#hopefully I can have an easier time signing in tomorrow night in the suite

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

I just jumped through like 50 hoops trying to sign into HBOMax.

[dameronology]

home {poe dameron x reader}

summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 

more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!

- jazz

p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 

It had only been five days. 

You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 

The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 

 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 

‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 

‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’

‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’

‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’

‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’

‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’

‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’

‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 

‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’

‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 

You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 

A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-

- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 

His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.

‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’

‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   

‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’

‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 

You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 

‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’

‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’

He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 

‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’

‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 

‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’

‘I promise.’

Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 

You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.

‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’

Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’

‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’

‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’

‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’

‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’

‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’

‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 

Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 

On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.

‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 

You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 

‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’

‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’

'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’

‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 

You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 

Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 

‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 

‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 

‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’

‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).

It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| THREE

gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of taeyong. swearing, blood (i’ll let you know when there are parts with blood mentions), smut (let you know), violence, angst

WORD COUNT: 2,7K

ONE TWO THREE FOUR

“Thank you for meeting me at a late hour,” said the man in front of Donghyuck.

“Sure, no problem,” Donghyuck nodded. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I saw you’re getting along with my daughter, and before you say something I saw you two getting along pretty girl this morning,” he looked at him.” And to be honest, I don't care how you do your work, but I needed to remind you why I hired you,” your father stared at him.

“I haven’t forgotten it, sir. I’m going at my own pace, besides it would be very suspicious to kill her right after I spend 12 hours with her a day,” Donghyuck let him know. “I’ll get the job done. You don't have to worry.”

“I do worry though,” your father placed a hand on his chin. “She’s supposed to meet with the Prime Minister in 2 months. I’m sure he’ll work with her, I mean, the UN is doing so, why wouldn't he as well?

“I don’t care what you have to do. I want her dead. She’s getting bigger and bigger and stealing my best clients,” he groaned. “This is my business and she suddenly thinks she can come over and take what’s mine? No. Get fucking rid of her.”

Donghyuck nodded. “I will.”

…

After another long week, you decided to meet with Taeyong and Lena and have dinner with them since it had been so long since you saw them.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you turned to Donghyuck and smiled kindly to him, “you can go now. Take the night off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I should leave you here alone,” Donghyuck said to you.

“I’m not alone, Taeyong’s bodyguards are here and Lena’s security team will stay as well,” You informed him. “I’m well secured.”

“I still don’t feel comfortable by leaving you,” he confessed.

You  grinned and put a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder, “I’ll be fine, Donghyuck. Really.”

Donghyuck looked at you directly in the eye for a couple of seconds and wished he could kiss you. He nodded, “fine, I’ll have my phone with me all night in case you need something.”

“Noted,” you smirked, “goodnight, Hyuck.”

“Hyuck?” Donghyuck beamed.

“Well, since you won't stop calling me ‘ma’am’ I decided to give you a nickname as well,” you shrugged.

“But ma’am is not a nickname…” Donghyuck looked at you.

“You don't want me to call you Hyuck?” you pouted.

“You can call me whatever you want, (Y/N)” He winked at you.

You bit your lip and smiled at him. “Maybe I will.”

Donghyuck smirked and turned, but before he started to walk, he turned again to you, “let me stay. I don't feel good leaving you here all alone.”

You pressed your lips for a moment and then nodded. “But you’re staying as my friend, not my bodyguard.”

“Deal.”

You didn't remember when was the last time you had fun and even got tipsy. A year ago maybe? You were not a bad drinker and you could take some shots with Lena, but not with Taeyong. His alcohol tolerance was so low.

By almost 1 am, you hugged your friends goodbye and Donghyuck had one arm around you as he half-carried, half-guided you to the car. Maybe you had more shots than the ones you could take.

"I signed up to be your bodyguard, not your designated driver." Donghyuck joked as he looked for the car keys inside his suit jacket.

"You could be both," You said slowly, having to put more effort into your words than usual since you were sloshed.

Donghyuck  laughed. "Maybe so, but I preferred just doing one."

"Heeeey, you could do the partner thing soon."

"I don't remember mentioning a partner thing."

You licked your lips as you tried to remember what the phrase he'd first used was. "Designated driver. Only, instead of just dragging me to a car, we'd be getting sloshed together."

"That does sound more fun,” he said as he helped you to get in the car and fasten the seat belt.

You smiled dumbly and looked at him. “Have I told you you’re gorgeous? God, I love your skin and oh! Your moles in your cheeks are beautiful, I wanna plant some kisses on them.”

"Thanks," he said, trying to hide his smile. "It's nice to be appreciated."

"In all my life, I've never met someone that made me feel like you do," You said, speaking a foreing language.

"I don't know what you just said, but I'm going to assume it was complimentary."

You nodded. You kissed Donghyuck's left cheek because it was there. "The prettiest thing I've ever seen."  

Donghyuck swallowed thickly. He didn't need to understand the language to know that whatever you said was something he would appreciate. The kiss sent tingles down his spine, and your mouth was still resting close enough to him that you could feel his breath hot against your skin. "As much as we would enjoy that, we need to stop. It’s not correct.”

"You're right. But you're just so pretty," you whined. "It's really not fair. You should try to be less pretty; it would make my life easier."

"You can live with it," Donghyuck said.

The ride to your place wasn't long. He finally found the keycard and put it in the door for him. He unlocked it and pushed the door open. You looked pretty comfy where you were, and it made shuffling him inside your big modern flat roof house. "C'mon baby, you've got to get in bed."  

"But you're not there," You said, sounding awfully petulant about it.

Donghyuck chuckled. "No, but you'll get to sleep just fine without it."

"That's what you think."

"Love, you're drunk enough that you'll definitely pass out before the night's through."

"Aww, you called me 'love'. No ma'am."

Donghyuck was still right next to you though, so he was able to keep you from falling over. "My last boyfriend, well, Yuta was never my boyfriend, but he called me 'doll' but I sort of hated it."

"You do seem like you'd prefer the sweeter pet names. Sweetheart, things like that."

"Feel free to call me sweetheart as much as you want. Sounds beautiful coming out of your mouth."

"I think I will. After I stop working on protecting you, that is."

"Boring." You yawned. "You sure I can't convince you to stay?"

"Not while I'm working for you, and definitely not while you're sloshed." Donghyuck brought you to your room and took off your shoes when you collapsed back on the bed. "If you want to get undressed more, you're going to have to do it yourself, sweetheart," he said, then kissed your forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow."

“I’m coming!” You groaned, walking to the front door where someone was ringing the doorbell. You opened it and you found a smiley Taeyong holding a kraft delivery bag. How did he look all shiny after leaving the restaurant in the same state as you?

“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted you. “You look terrible this morning.”

“I was looking forward to hearing that, ass,” you grunted. “Come on in, the sunlight is killing me.”

“I’m not gonna find a naked Donghyuck, am I?” Taeyong looked at you.

You rolled your eyes and he entered your house. You shut the door behind him. “By the way, where is he? I didn’t see him in the entrance.”

“He has the day off,” you said, walking to the kitchen.

“So, you fucked with him?” Taeyong placed the food bag on the counter and he took off his jacket.

“No… but I did try to seduce him,” you grimaced.

“You did what?” His mouth gaped open.

“I told him he has the prettiest man I’ve ever seen and kissed his cheek,” you laughed a little. “Not that I lied. And then I invited him to stay over and he said it was not correct.”

Taeyong chuckled. “Oh my, God, this is so good. And then what happened?”

“Nothing, he left!” You sighed and then goggled. “What if he sues me? Did I harass him?”

“Woah, woah,” Taeyong shook his hands in the air, “he likes you, I can tell by the way he looked at you all night and he would’ve totally fucked you if he wasn't your bodyguard.”

“I don't even know how to look at him now,” you ran a hand through your hair. “He’s so hot that it makes me mad. All I want is him to pin me to a wall and fu-”

“I don't need the details, thanks,” Taeyong shut you down, “but what I can tell you is that you will end up pinned to a wall, any day now.”

You giggled. “Hopefully.”

Monday. Long day at the office. You barely had seen Donghyuck since you spent all day inside your office and he stayed right outside the door. You felt… sad? You missed his voice that day and his gorgeous face. You suddenly hated Mondays.

Lia knocked at your door right before the lunch break and left some papers for you to read and sign and some correspondence as well. When you finished reading and signing the papers, you opened a few envelopes where some people and companies were inviting you to some events. The last envelope was different from the rest since it was red and had a black stamp on it. You frowned and pursued to open it.

Inside the envelope there was a note written with letters clippings from a magazine and said:

IF I WERE YOU, I WOULD SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN AT NIGHT.

YOU’RE DEAD.

You put the letter on the desk and swallowed. You weren't usually scared of hate comments, but this wasn't a hate comment. It was a letter. Threatening you.

You felt dizzy and your entire body started shaking. Who had sent you that? And why? You took a deep breath and stood up trying to walk to your bathroom in your office but failed. You tripped on your heels and hit the ground.

Then it hit you. They were inside the building. You weren't even safe in your own office. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to cry.

You tried to stand up but couldn't. Your legs weren’t responding and seconds later, you bursted into tears. You were scared. So scared.

Donghyuck had been replaying Friday’s night in his head during the whole weekend. He couldn't stop thinking about you and how good your lips felt against his skin. He hated himself so much for not being able to forget it.

On Monday he barely saw you and he hated it. He got you were busy but Donghyuck needed, at least, to talk to you and hear your voice and he didn't get that.

After he ate lunch, he returned and stood in the same place he had been standing all morning, hoping you’d get out of your office and going somewhere where you two could talk but didn't happen.

Donghyuck checked his watch on his left wrist and frowned. It was almost 2 pm and you hadn't had lunch yet. He turned and knocked at the door twice and he didn't get any response. He knocked one more time and decided to open it when you didn't respond again.

And that's when he saw you on the floor, crying and shaking. Donghyuck almost ran to you and kneeled in front of you cupping your face. “(Y/N)? What happened? Are you hurt?”

You choked on your words and got closer to him, holding him tight. He held you instantly and placed a hand on your head. “Talk to me, what happened, baby?” Donghyuck whispered in your ear.

The letter still sat on your desk.

Sungho was on the phone to the police while you sat with your arms wrapped around Donghyuck who was simply staring at the offensive stationary. Less than twenty minutes later the entire apartment was invaded by police, looking for clues to who had left it for you.

“Miss (Y/LN)” the Captain took the seat across from you, “Are you okay?”

You lifted your chin slightly, “I’m better, Captain. Just angry and scared at whoever sent this.”

He didn’t miss the way you kept your eyes averted from the piece of paper.

“They didn’t send it, (Y/L/N),” he stated, “It was an inside job"

You took in a sharp breath and Donghyuck held you tighter.

“I suggest you hire more security. My men will be here as well,” he  told you, “But I can’t leave them here indefinitely.”

You nodded. "Thanks, captain."

When the police left, Donghyuck and Sungho decided it was the best to leave the office and you obeyed them. When you got home, Donghyuck told you to change the passcodes of every door in your house and he’d stay there until they knew who had sent the letter. You agreed since you didn't want to be alone in your house.

When you got home you did what Donghyuck told you and changed every passcode. You sighed and hugged yourself. You felt exhausted.

Donghyuck approached you and looked at you. “You feel better?”

“Kinda,” you admitted. “My head is killing me.”

“Why don’t you go and take a bath while I make something for you to eat?” He caressed your cheek with his right thumb. “You need to eat something.”

You nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” he placed a kiss on your forehead and you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Is there a chance you could come with me?”

“Not even the slightest,” he now kissed your cheek.

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll be right back.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror and furrowed. Did you deserve this? Maybe. Was he maybe behind the letter? You didn't think so.

When you sold Kim Doyoung that powerful software one year back he was clear he wouldn't even bother you. Did he maybe hear about your meeting with the Prime Minister? Did he know you were about to sell him off so you could do business with the government?

Donghyuck was chopping some vegetables and couldn't stop thinking who could be behind the letter. It was not certainly your father since he had hired him to kill you, but who was it?

You were clean. Way too clean.

Unless… you werent.

You came back downstairs and smiled when you found Doyoung in your kitchen. You could get used to that.

"What am I protecting you from (Y/N)?" he asked softly after you two finished eating, trying to meet your gaze as you looked at him over the brim of your glass. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

You blinked a few times. "What do you mean?"

Donghycuk sighed and repeated his question.

You didn't reply. You just stood up, placing your glass down silently before you walked towards the kitchen.

Donghyuck followed you without second thought, cornering you again in the hallway leading towards the kitchen. "What are you hiding from me?" he demanded, his hand pushing against your chest and pressing you against the wall. "I want the truth."

"It's... nothing," you came in the response and it only served to infuriate him more.

Donghyuck wanted to scream at you until you told him the truth, but as you stood there, staring into his eyes and standing close enough to feel your breath on his face... Instead, he did something that surprised both of you.

Lee Donghyuck kissed you.

It was impulsive and it was reckless. It took you a second to come to terms with what was happening but your lips were moving against Donghyuck in perfect synchronisation, your lips slotting together like they’ve always meant to be like that.

Donghyuck felt like his entire body was doused in gasoline and you had the match, every inch of him ready to combust. His heart raced as the adrenaline ran through his veins and he couldn't help but note that this feeling was so addictive he didn't think he would ever be able to stop if he didn't right now.

Donghyuck loved how heavenly his lips felt against yours, how warm your touch was and how it sent electricity coursing through his vein each time your soft fingers explored a new part of his body.

You were the one to pull apart and as much as Donghyuck hated it, he felt a pang of disappointment. "Trust me."

Donghyuck swallowed and looked at your swollen red lips. "I would never forgive myself if something happens to you."

"I'm gonna be fine. You're with me." You looked at him.

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Thanks // Jay Halstead x Reader // Pt 8

Description: Jay and Y/N continue to find their footing in this new relationship while beginning to navigate helping Mouse.

Warnings: None

Pairing: Jay x Reader, Reader x Mouse!Platonic, Jay x Mouse!Platonic

Words: 2271

A/N: This part has been a pain in my butt, and I still feel like it isn’t flowing right. But, I’ve done all I can do to try and fix it. Hopefully the next part will be a bit better. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

“How does dinner tonight sound?” Jay asked you over the phone as you walked through the halls of Chicago Med, heading down to the ED for a psych consult. He’d called you on the rare lunch break he had. 

Things had been going great since the two of you had kissed that night. In fact, it was better than great. Nearly every night during the next week, the two of you were at one of the apartments. Not to mention, going and seeing Mouse, though you hadn’t told him yet of the new relationship development. 

“Sounds like you should pick me up at seven,” you agreed. “Anything in particular I should wear?” 

“Something border-line fancy.” That peaked your interest, but you weren’t going to be able to get further clarification as the elevator opened up on the first floor.

“Got it. I’m in the ED for a consult. I’ll text you when I can, but I will definitely see you at seven sharp,” you told him, the two of you saying quick goodbyes before hanging up the phone. You couldn’t help but strut into the ED with a smile on your face and an air of increased confidence about you.

“Y/N,” Maggie called out, quickly making your way over to her. “What’s got you in such a good mood today?” Talking to Maggie was like talking to an older sister, she always knew the right things to say. Plus, she always knew when something was up. And something was definitely up with you.

“I have a hot date tonight,” you answered with a giggle, not telling her who it was. But with the raise of her eyebrow and the smirk on her face, you were sure she already knew. 

“Would he happen to be the better looking Halstead brother?”

“I heard that!” Will called out from his computer, though he didn’t look offended, flashing you a smile. Seemed like he might know about the new arrangement as well.

“I’m not one to kiss and tell, Maggie. Where am I going?” 

The rest of the day flew by, Daniel giving you the contact information for his social worker friend. You’d bring that up to Jay later, knowing he was going to do what he could for Mouse. In fact, he was excited, sending you links to facilities in Chicago that he wanted to look at.

When you got home, you went ahead and hopped in the shower, not wasting any time in getting ready for your date tonight. A date with Jay Halstead. It was something else, that was for sure. When you first met him, you would have never guessed that this would be where you’d end up. Not in a million years, yet…

The black dress hugged you just right, letting your y/h/c hair down for once, a slight curl to it. A natural make-up look to piece it all together, and a pair of heels. You were ready to go, finishing up just a few minutes before a familiar knock on the door. When you opened it, Jay stood there with a smile. 

“You look...wow,” he complimented with a smile, bringing you in for a kiss. When you pulled away, you let your hands rest on his chest. 

“You look pretty spiffy yourself,” you retired before another quick kiss. “You ready to go?” 

He led you down to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you in. As he drove through the still busy Chicago streets, one hand held onto yours, occasionally glancing over at you with a smile. The radio played low in the background as you told him about the day you’d had at work, leaving the information Daniel had given you out for the time being. 

He pulled up in front of an Italian restaurant you’d only ever passed, never thinking you’d go. It always seemed too expensive. Once the car was in park, he met you on the other side, helping you out as well. 

“This is too much, Jay,” you told him as he took your hand, walking inside. 

“You deserve this. Plus, I want our first date to be memorable,” he corrected, the waiter leading you to a table. First date...it had a nice ring to it as the two of you sat down, beginning to peruse over the menu. 

The dinner went amazing, enjoying both your food and your company. Jay talked a bit about his childhood, why he’d joined the military, what he’d been up to since he got back. Finally, substantial conversation and not just something to fill the silence. The night continued after dinner, moving a cocktail lounge less than a block away for a couple of drinks. This time, you were the one to talk about your tumultuous childhood, moving from army base to army base before leaving for college. You’d each had a couple of mixed drinks, not enough to be drunk, but enough to feel it.

“You good driving or should we get an Uber?” you asked him when the two of you walked out of the bar. 

“Yeah, I’ll be good. I’m not that drunk,” he assured you, walking back to the valet to get the car. His arm was around your shoulders, yours around his waist. “Plus, your place isn’t that far luckily.”

“True. Thank god for a doc’s salary, right?” You could feel the vibration in his chest when he laughed.

The ride back home wasn’t quiet either. Now, he was telling you funny stories and the drama from work over the years in Intelligence. You’d only heard about the team, not actually having met anybody yet. Though, you were pretty sure you’d meet them soon if you were seeing Jay. He parked the truck out front, not turning it off.

“You should come upstairs,” you suggested, really not wanting the night to end. The glimmer in his eye and the smile on his face said he wanted the same thing, but the words out of his mouth were a different story. 

“I shouldn’t,” he corrected, smile fading just a bit, so you reached out to grasp his hand as you tried to understand his hesitations. 

“What’s going through your head?” That got an eyebrow raise from him. “As your...more than friends epic experience.” 

“If I go upstairs, then things change,” he answered. 

“Jay, things are changing already. They have changed. So much over the past few months, and even more in the past week. There’s nothing I want more than to be with you. But if you’re having second thoughts…” You hoped he wasn’t, considering he’d just dished out quite a bit of money on dinner and drinks. 

“No! No. No second thoughts here. We haven’t had the ex talk, and I have a lot more baggage than I let on.” 

“Then come upstairs, and we can talk. Nothing else, just...talk,” you shrugged, hoping he would agree. It took a minute to get a nod in agreement, both of you getting out of the truck and going upstairs. “Now, as much as I love this outfit, I’m going to go change. Make yourself at home.”

You changed into a tank-top and shorts, pulling your hair up into a messy bun before rejoining him in the living room. He’d ditched his suit jacket, the fabric laying on one of the dining room chairs. His shoes were next to the door, sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone on his shirt. You couldn’t help but smile before sitting down next to him. It felt so natural as his arm came around you, letting you lean into him. 

“It was tough for me when I got back state-side. I’ve told you that before. But it doesn’t feel like it got easier at times. The first person I was with after I got back, her name was Abbey. We knew each other when I served, and we met again in Vegas at a funeral for one of the guys,” he explained. “We hooked up a couple of times, a coping mechanism. And then we got married. I didn’t remember half of it. We got divorced a few years later. It was supposed to be sooner, but apparently she never signed the papers. Then there was Erin. I mean, I really wasn’t into the hookup culture when I got back. We were together for almost three years. I thought I was going to marry her, but things didn’t end up that way.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” you asked him, since it seemed like he was done. 

“Since I’ve been back, I haven’t been with a lot of people. I just...It’s stupid,” he brushed off, shaking his head. 

“No, it’s not, Jay. Whatever it is, it’s something that’s on your mind.” You wanted to hear it, wanted to know how his mind worked, what made him happy and sad and mad, what made him get out of the bed in the mornings. 

“It’s because of the leg,” he finally said with a sigh, which made you understand a little better. “Just, being in that situation with somebody is stressful almost. And it shouldn’t be. You know, after thirteen years I should be over it. With Erin, she got used to it, but the first few times were awkward. And with Abbey, we were too drunk most of the time for me to even care.”

“I won’t think any different of you Jay. I’ve already seen it, so on my end, you’re still the same Jay I’ve always known with no surprises thrown in. There’s no rush, though. I want to know you, every part of you, inside and out.” You let your head rest on his chest, 

“You really know how to make a guy swoon, babe.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your eyes closing with a content sigh. “Maybe I could stay the night though? Get used to everything?”

“I’d like that. You work tomorrow?” you asked him, getting a head shake and a smile from you. “Neither do I, which makes tonight an even better night for you to stay. I might have an old pair of shorts that would fit you.”

“I have a bag in my car for those long nights at work. I’ll be right back,” he promised, getting up to go downstairs.

Again, you didn’t personally understand his worries and insecurities, but you understood the concept behind them. Intimacy after amputation was a difficult thing at times. You weren’t going to push it, though, deciding to just let things take their course. Just like promised, he was right back, disappearing into the bathroom to change. When he reemerged, he set the rest of his suit with his jacket, dressed in a grey t-shirt and a pair of shorts. It was the first time you’d seen his prosthetic. 

“Want to head to bed, or sit out here for a bit?” you asked as he stood behind the couch, hands resting on the fabric on either side of your head. He smiled down at you.

“Bed sounds like a plan,” he answered, getting you to stand up and lead him back into your room. When you looked at him, you just saw Jay. 

You sat down on the left side of the bed -- your side -- while Jay sat on the right. You went ahead and got yourself situated as Jay just sat there, watching him take deep breaths. So, you got up on your knees behind him, arms wrapping around his stomach and pressing a kiss to his shoulder not saying anything. He relaxed back into you before leaning down to slide his prosthetic off as well as the sleeve. As he did so, you let your fingers run along his back, watching the process. 

“You’re not freaked out by this?” he asked you as the two of you finally laid down. 

“Not one bit. The benefit of med school.” It took a minute to find a good situation where you both were comfortable, your head on his chest. At first, it was odd to only feel one full leg with yours, but didn’t take long to get used to. “Alexa. House lights off,” you called out, the lights dimming before turning completely off.

“Okay, I need to get me one of those. No more having to get up to turn the lights off,” Jay told you, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns on your back. “Would make life just a bit easier.” 

“You want to carpool tomorrow?” you asked him, pulling the blanket up over the two of you. 

“Sure. Save some gas money,” he agreed. “Maybe we can tell Mouse about this -- us,” he quickly corrected. It seemed like you were both on the same page of wanting it to be more, which was a benefit. Though, you knew you still had to work towards it. “Any progress on applying to be Mouse’s guardian?”

“Yeah. Daniel gave me the information for the social worker. She could probably answer your questions better than I can. Have you found a lawyer yet?” you countered, sighing as he continued to draw patterns. 

“I’ve been looking into it. Voight is giving me a couple suggestions, some people that owe him favors I guess. I won’t be the one to ask why they owe favors, though, that’s for sure. Some secrets are better left secrets.” You wondered what he meant by that, but didn’t ask, not sure how. Plus, you weren’t going to be awake long enough to ask, eyes drifting shut before falling into a restful sleep.

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[hwanuels]

l.jn: just shoot your shot

summary: can jeno just be confident in himself? pls? pretty pls? 

pairing: student-athlete!jeno x tutor! (fem) reader

warning: PROCEED WITH CAUTION! GRAMMAR MISTAKES! AND CRACKHEADS! ALSO CURSING! i’m back and i’m not dead so here’s some athlete!jeno that everyone was looking forward too. just a reminder, this is apart of my collab with @huangsren so check out her art-hoe! renjun and childhood-friend! chenle in our dreamies highschool au. i’m not really satisfied with this piece compared to my other two. hopefully, this still slaps. also, there will be for sure a second part to this so yuh. enjoy. 

okay so let’s get this straight lee jeno is THAT guy whose in like all of the sports teams on campus 

basketball, baseball, football, soccer, track and field, cross country, pickleball, etc he’s on them all 

he was deadass about to join the cheerleading team just so he could have the clout of being on all of the teams 

ngl imagine a cheerleader!jeno,,,hell yeah that’s my shit

but he didn’t bc he isn’t as big of a crackhead as one like to think

jeno has the reputation of the silent cold guy, but in actuality is a big FLOOF ball especially with his close friends (aka jaemin) 

he’s well-liked by everyone bc he’s hecka nice once they look pass that cold exterior and he’s realllly hot.

just picture sweaty!jeno after practice using his shirt to wipe off his sweat allowing everyone to have a glimpse of his abs. 

sign me the fuck up

he’s just extremely shy and socially awkward so he doesn’t really know how to interact w people when he meets them for the first time so a lot of people just think he’s that distant, angsty type 

it still shocks a shit ton of people when they find out he’s best friends with the social butterfly/ fboi! jaemin but don’t get him wrong bc he doesn’t go around town breaking hearts left and right like his best buddy does

as much as jeno likes to deny it, he is a ROMANTICIST

way back in freshmen year, jeno was captivated by a teenage romance which he blames ara (from fucq-boi! jaemin au) for roping him into all those barbies and chick-flick movies. 

like his heart flutters at the idea of his significant other wearing his jersey to his games or sharing a milkshake at the local ice cream parlor,,,he wants to give them his hoodie and cuddle on the couch (hopefully watching barbie princess charm school) 

BABY BOY JUST WANTS TO BE LOVED ! 

but he doesn’t want it to be superficial like what jaemin does 

he highly disapproves of jaemin’s casanova ways

jaemin is probably really glad about the bros before hoes rule bc he would have lost jeno a long time ago with all of the girls he goes through 

jeno knows that love is a delicate thing and should be treated seriously which is why he’s so against jaemin’s date and ditch 

and jeno wants to be in a relationship! but he can’t bc he has like NO time for the lovey-dovey highschool bs (also bc he’s highkey scared that he might ruin any relationship he gets himself into)  

the boy has back to back practice from all the sports he decided to take on

on multiple occasions, different practice times interfere with each other and instead of just missing one like he SHOULD, jeno decided to take em both on at the same time

catch him sprinting from the soccer field to the football field back and forth in between break times

one time, basketball and swimming practice collided w each other so jeno thought it was smart to go back and forth from the school’s pool to the gym after he’d finish a 1000M IM set and shot at least 15 3-pointers 

let’s just say he flashed a lot of people, running half-naked with only his drag suit on when he forgot to put on his sweatpants in one of his runs back and forth

art-hoe! renjun never lets him live it down much to his embarrassment 

“remember that one-time jeno displayed his junk to the whole student body? good times, good times” 

cue jeno throwing a pencil at renjun or chasing him down the halls 

jeno’s abs were the talk of the school for at least a whole month and our boi had red cheeks every time he heard someone talk about it 

because of that jeno double-checks, quadruple-checks to make sure that his pants are on before booking it to the gym to shoot hoops 

ALSO 

another reason why a lot of people find jeno so intimidating and hard to approach was bc of the fight that happened between his ex-friend! stoner-boi!haechan sophomore year

no one expected that the calm, seemingly unbothered jeno could throw punches that hard. it was like he transformed into the hulk or something 

except jeno didn’t like the new reputation he gained over a stupid fight with his once close friend. 

there’s one nasty habit that jeno can’t seem to let go of no matter how much jaemin and renjun tell him to fix

the boy holds onto grudges like there’s no tomorrow

there was one time where jaemin had to borrow jeno’s phone for something and he accidentally dropped it

“hey can i borrow your phone to call someone? mine’s dead.” jaemin asked him.

“no, last time i gave it to you, you cracked it” 

“dude! it was one time” 

“say that to my cracked screen” 

“for goodness sake, jeno, i only cracked your screen protector!” 

“still you broke it”

yeah, jaemin never got to use jeno’s phone ever again. 

someone didn’t give back the pencil he lent them? he doesn’t even look in their direction until jaemin nags him enough to just let it go 

which is probably why he and haechan still vehemently hate each other even though renjun and jaemin are ready to go talk things out with haechan 

some part deep down insides knows he should just let it go and actually talk things out with haechan on why he initiated the fight bc haechan was once someone jeno considered as a bro 

and jeno doesn’t give out bro passes as easily 

he just doesn’t know how to approach haechan or if haechan would even be willing to talk it through 

it’s kinda sad how the two of them don’t even look each other in the eye or acknowledged each other existence anymore 

other than that jeno is practically flawless, jk 

as much as he is very enthusiastic in physical education, when it comes to math, science, etc, jeno is basically flunking. like borderline passing in all of his classes 

he was for sure failing math though which is a HUGE problem…bc to stay on any team sport, he CAN’T be failing a class 

which is why jeno was currently spending his free period, in the library, furiously erasing his wrong answer for the problem he tried multiple times to solve. it was the first math problem on the remedial work packet that his math teacher gave him for extra practice. 

even his friend, smartass renjun gave up on helping him and went to go toy around with his telescope, going on a tangent about renjun’s alien conspiracies theories.

if only jeno could have renjun’s genius brain, life would be so much easier

slamming his head on the table, jeno let out a low groan of frustration at whoever decided that it was a good idea to mix number and letters together.  

“dude, can you not?” he heard someone say from next to him. 

he lifted his head to take a peek…and this is where you come in, glaring at him with murder on your mind 

jeno’s just staring at you and the fool does not recognize you at all 

NCT High isn’t a big place either so he would have come across you once or twice, but you were simply a new face to him. 

you, at this point, grew annoyed at the boy who was just shameless staring at you. 

“is there something on my face?” you asked with a raised eyebrow 

slowly he shakes his head ‘no’ 

“keep it down, i’m trying to sleep” you warned him before laying your arms now with your head resting on it, faced away from jeno. 

jeno, who was awe-struck for second at your frank personality, decided that it was time to have another go at the problem and looked at it again

yeah there was no way in hell he was going to be able to solve it, he was too fucking lost 

atm jeno is like .000000001 seconds away from having a mental breakdown because if he doesn’t pass his test this friday he’s going to be benched and if he fails the class then he loses his status of team captain and his spot on the soccer team which he cannot afford to bc it was SENIOR year and he should be living in all of his sports glory right now 

and what if he can’t graduate? he can’t be a super senior like lucas wong like nooo that can definitely not happen

literally, jeno, stop freaking out - sincerely admin minnie

suddenly while he was having an overthinking session, his paper and pencil were taken away from him. he watches as the culprit (you) quickly solve the problems on the piece of paper in record time with wide eyes

letting out a small huff, you gave him back the paper wordlessly before going back to your previous sleeping positions hoping to get back to your precious nap time. your actions leaving jeno’s mouth opened in awe as his eyes glances back and forth between the answer sheets and the ones you provided him, both matching up perfectly with no mistake 

he looks back at your sleeping form and wonders if you’re an actual prodigy like renjun 

but jeno also feels really bad for disturbing your nap so he lets you be and tries to quietly work on the other problems and review how you solved the ones he had trouble on earlier 

except he’s even more confused bc there was more numbers and letters;; no comprendo 

jeno’s brain: ajadkf;dskjhg;ajdsvf;

he contemplates ask you for help or a basic explanation since there was no way that jeno learned how to solve that in class (he did, he just slept through the lecture because he was dead-beat tired after a heavy soccer practice from the night before) 

jeno’s fear of flunking overweighed his social awkwardness so he pokes you gently with his pencil eliciting a grumpy “what do you want, now?” from you

gulping, jeno mumbles a small “can you help me, i don’t understand how you solved this” 

you looked intently at jeno not answering his questions causing the boy to instantly regret asking, but surprisingly you replied 

“what don’t you get?” you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and shifted towards the male 

“i don’t even know what i don’t know”

i felt that jeno. i felt that. 

he pulls the piece of paper between the two of you and points to a problem that you did with ease 

“oh, so you’re so supposed to…” you launched off into an explanation filled with math terms that adds more to jeno’s confusion 

sensing that jeno still wasn’t understanding, you let out a big sigh 

“sorry, it just doesn’t make sense in my head” jeno admitted shyly

at first, you were gonna say something snappy about how even an eighth-grader could do this problem easily, you held it back because you actually felt bad since jeno was trying so hard

you also weren’t going to deny that lw jeno looked quite cute with that adorable slight pout on his face 

“let’s just take it slow, i’ll explain step by step” 

so you did just that, patiently teaching the methods and theorems to jeno who constantly made that confused noise every time you introduced something new to the table

the two of you worked through five of the worksheets and jeno was actually understanding it! horray! 

you were explaining the last problem to jeno when he stops you with a question that was completely off-topic 

“why are you helping me?” 

it was simple question so you answered it simply. 

“because you looked like you need it.” you shrugged “i was trying to take a nap earlier but it was too loud for me with your constant erasing” 

“sorry” jeno said looking down at his lap, embarrassed that he was a nuisance to you  

you kind felt bad ngl so you quickly reassured him 

“don’t worry about it. you remind me of my idiotic friends, not that you’re an idiot though. actually, no comment.” 

we love a blunt y/n. 

you clicked the pen you were holding and placed it down, “i moved here a couple months ago so i barely know anyone. now that it’s senior year, everyone already has their own friend group so why bother trying to join them?” 

jeno makes another confused noised at your blunt statement. 

you wondered if that particular noise has some type of effect on you due to the fact that you have a sudden urge to explain your situation to the boy you hardly knew for more than the hour

“i used to go to miroh high, but my dad got a transfer here so he decided to enroll me at this school without my say. i left all my friends back there sadly” 

“that sucks,” was all that jeno could say.

damn his inability to socialize like a normal human being. 

you nodded, “yeah, it does, but it’s not that bad. my friends make an effort to come down here most weekend and sometimes i drive up there too.” you turn to look at him and jeno freezes at the sudden eye contact “actually, you remind me of my friend hyunjin. he was kind of a ditz in anything that wasn’t sports” 

“wait, how do you know that i play sports?” jeno asked confused 

“dude, everyone knows that you’re the school’s mvp.” you said as if it’s obvious “you’re not as intimidating as they say you are though.” 

damn it 

he was hoping you had no idea who he was so that could relieve his guilt of not knowing who you were despite being in the same graduating class.

at the same time, he was glad that he seemed to have made a good impression on you  

“don’t worry, i won’t spill your little secret” you gestured to the worksheets which had red pen markings all over it, signs of jeno’s failures. you figured that the school’s star jock didn’t want the school knowing his inability to solve basic 12th-grade math problem 

you reached under the table to grab your backpack, causing jeno to reach a hand out to grasp your wrist 

“wait, where are you going?”

 a part of him was afraid that he was going to forget everything you taught him once you left, but the other part was extremely curious about you and wanted to know more

“i have somewhere to go?” you looked down at his hand and back up at him “you have something else you want to say?” 

sensing that his grip was making you feel uncomfortable, he quickly pulled his hand away. rubbing the back of his neck. he avoids your eyes, opting to stare at your feet instead. 

“this might be a little weird, but can you please tutor me? at least until next week when i have to take my make-or-break test.” jeno plead, embarrassment rushed to his cheeks in the form of a red blush when he realized how desperate he sounded. 

you let out a tiny giggle, totally different from your persona earlier. 

you took his pencil that was laying on the table to scribble something on the corner of his worksheet. patting his shoulder, you quickly left the boy staring at the piece of paper. 

don’t get confused (127) 312-0325 :)

a stupid smile made it’s way onto jeno’s lips as he quickly packed up his things in haste. he practically skips to soccer practice. maybe he even heel-clicked.  

lee jeno is not failing math! 

cute tutor acquired! 

woohoo! 

but also, there’s this weird tingly feeling that jeno has inside. 

he doesn’t know what exactly it was but most likely it’s probably the reason why he was a goofy-ass smile on his face 

“dude, are you okay?” one of his teammates ask after he gets hits in the head with a soccer ball 

jeno, not even fazed by it one bit, just smiles and gives his teammates a big thumbs up 

“coach, i think there’s something wrong with jeno!” 

anyways, that night he’s extremely excited to text you. 

imagine jeno on his bed, laying on his stomach feet up in the air, taking at least an hour to construct a response that doesn’t make him seem lame or a fifty-year-old man like all of his friends say he texts like 

jeno is probably the type of person that texts, with all the correct capitalization and actual punction plus awkward spacing and usage of emojis 

this time he tried to be chill about it

jeno: hey, it’s me, jeno. sorry for bothering you this late at night, but i don’t understand this problem. can you help me pls? 

sent. 

now jeno was currently awaiting your response….however, you don’t reply right away like jeno for some reason expects

he takes the waiting time to scroll through his social media and it’s the usual things he sees every day 

he sees the juniors’ chenle and his weird little friend talking about some sort of prank they’re going to pull, jaemin’s spam post on how he was stuck making prom decorations to fulfill his community service requirements, etc 

however, a sudden post from @/luccasss caught his attention

especially the girl sitting on top of an old blue car with the senior, middle fingers up  

his eyes glance at the caption quickly 

me and my main bitch fucking it up (pc to our little kiddo) 

wait a minute. 

jeno could remember you saying how you didn’t bother making friends w anyone, so what are you doing with the lucas wong? 

now lucas wong doesn’t have that great of a reputation around campus, especially since he was a held back his senior year. he blows off class and jeno has heard that he’s in cahoots with the stoners on campus too 

your account is tagged in the picture and luckily it’s on public, so jeno could secretly and shamefully stalk your page

while looking through your photos, jeno realizes that he really doesn’t know anything about…. you 

tbh he didn’t even know your name until he saw your bio and username. (facepalm @ jeno)

scrolling through your photos, he saw you posing with other boys and girls that he didn’t recognize making him assume that they were your friends from your old school 

his fingers land on a picture where you’re kissing a cheek of ridiculously good looking guy. checking the tag, he sees that it’s a guy whose username was something along the lines of cb_97

imma miss my ddy chan <3!! owo 

as he scrolling through the chan guy’s instagram, jeno becomes more dejected bc maybe he was too deep in his imagination that he got from watching too many dramas with ara 

letting out a sad sigh, jeno clicks his phone off and settles into bed. the more he thinks about it the more he feels insignificant to you which he was. 

for all he knows, he’s just a random kid in the library that you helped with a few math problems 

the next day, jeno walks into school with no pep in his step :( 

and as his certified besties, jaemin and renjun drag him into an empty classroom during lunch prying him to confess what’s got him down in the dumps 

and jeno knows he can’t hide anything from his besties so he just lets it all out 

jaemin, taking a long blink after his bff’s rant to process the newly acquired tea  “wow, bro. you got the feels” 

“exactly,” jeno groans “i only talked to her once! she doesn’t even know me!” 

“she knows you suck at math,” renjun points out 

and jeno threatens to throw a chair at his friend, but jaemin quickly stops him 

“okay, how about you just take it slow? like get to know her and let her get to know you. it could be that you’re just overthinking her kindness for helping you when you were desperate. appreciation is different from admiration” ngl jaemin was kinda-sorta right 

“btw, who is this chick anyway? you haven’t told us who it was” renjun asked, sitting on one of the empty desks  

“y/n, she transferred a couple months ago from miroh” 

renjun abruptly jumps to his feet, “the y/n l/n? the new math teacher’ daughter?” 

“you know her?” jeno quirks an eyebrow 

“dude she’s in my ap calculus class and she has the highest grade, but she never shows up to class,” renjun tells him. “she’s a straight, badass genius” 

jeno feels stupider as renjun continues to list all of your achievements and the art boy makes it seem like all of them were done effortlessly. 

how stupid was he in your eyes when he couldn’t solve regular senior math problems while you were out here solving college-based ones?

now you seem like a person farther and father away from him.

jaemin, his good-ol-buddy knows that jeno is over-analyzing the new information renjun was telling him, and he tries his best to hype is buddy up

“c’mon, you might not be a genius at math but you certainly are on any field, pool, and court. have some confidence!” 

deep down jeno knows that he should listen to his friend and that he should just be more confident in himself, but he can’t shake his feeling of insecurity and doubt 

so the next time he sees you laying on the empty table in the non-fiction section sleeping, he’s a bit more reluctant to approach you. instead, he quietly sits in the seat next to you as he pulls out his practice sheets to work and miserably fail on

except you don’t wake up for a looong time until jeno accidentally sneezes too loud, causing you to awaken

opening your eyes, you see the boy look at you with wide eyes as if he’s done something terribly wrong by waking you up 

“why do you look like i’m about to kill you or something?” you giggled watching as the boy in front of you became very flustered “why didn’t you wake me up when you came here?”

“oh, you look like you were in deep sleep, so i didn’t want to wake you up” 

you stretched your arms out, one hand over your mouth as you let out an inaudible yawn, “don’t worry about it. i’m always sleeping” 

you blamed all of your fatigue on lucas as it was his fault that you were tired out of your mind from the little night adventure he roped both you and a junior named eun (y/n from childhood-friend!chenle’s au) into. 

honestly, if it weren’t for lucas’s annoying ass laugh waking you up from your nap that one day, you probably wouldn’t have befriended the big bumbling bafoon. 

“yeah, but apparently i’m failing the twelfth-grade again bc i’m not allowed to just go to homeroom and p.e. i mean, who wants to learn about FUNCTIONS when you could just be looking up memes in the library?!?” - lucas wong, 2019

despite lucas’s overwhelming personality, you were quite thankful to have him as he reminded you of your old friends back at miroh, it was nice. 

eun was a soft-spoken child that often had to turn to you or lucas (which wasn’t always a good idea) for advice that you both were happy to give to the underclassmen. 

personally, you didn’t care that you only had like two friends, quality over quantity right? 

“earth to jeno?” you waved your hand in front of his face as he stayed unresponsive 

he mumbles something inaudible and points at a problem 

your eyes gloss over it taking in the problem, before quickly grabbing a pen and solving it. you spoke slowly as you explained the step-by-step solution that jeno had to do. 

when you look back at jeno to make sure that he was understanding the content, you noticed how the jock is off in his own universe and not paying attention to you. 

“please don’t make me repeat that again,” you sigh, catching jeno’s attention. you capped the pen and lightly tossed it on the table, proceeding to stretch out your hands above your head. 

“sorry” 

“what’s up with you?” you asked, wondering why the boy who seemed desperate for your help yesterday, was now acting like he could care less. “and don’t give me that stupid, generic “nothing” bullshit.” 

“sorry, football was tough last night,” jeno said quietly, focusing on the problem. 

despite not being involved in the school festivities, you knew that it was well past football season. and that meant that jeno was lying to you. 

there was a slight pang of disappointment, but you pushed it aside. what were you expecting anyway? he probably only saw you as a tutor. 

you weren’t even his friend for fuck’s sake 

“let’s move onto the next problem” you say, quickly changing the subject. 

honestly, the two of you were fucking idiots. smh 

despite there being awkward tension between the two of you, you’re tutoring was actually very very helpful for jeno. he could actually understand what was going on in math class now. 

remember that test he had to take to ensure that he could play for his soccer match? jeno passed that with flying colors thanks to your careful explanations 

even after that test, the two of you kept your tutoring arrangement;;;and maybe jeno was falling even harder for you. 

he couldn’t help it though! the way you run your fingers through your hair or the way you puff out your cheeks when you’re trying to think of a way to explain something to jeno just makes leaves him star-struck. and every time he gets a problem right without your help, the proud smile that you give him makes his heart leap

it wasn’t like you were safe from the love bug either!! 

lee jeno was hard not to like and he was even harder to not fall for. 

the little cute noises that he makes when he’s lost, the way his eyes go wide when he finally understands the problem, and the eye-smile he gives you when he gets a problem right. 

your heart literally went uwu when jeno offered you his hoodie bc the two of you were sitting underneath the ac vent and you were shivering.

when you tried to give it back to him, he just shook his head and said “keep it, just in case you get cold” 

lee jeno was not healthy for your heart. uwu hours 24/7 

but the two of you were stuck in this weird relationship bc the two of you weren’t exactly friends, but also not strictly tutoring. you would share laughs here and there, but then quickly it would dial down and returned back to the math problems

some times when he was texting you, he would send a cute gif to show you that he understood and sometimes you would tell him about something funny/stupid lucas+eun or your other friends did. 

“just ask him out,” lucas tells you bluntly as the both of you chilled on the bleachers during lunch. 

“hard pass” 

“fine, then i’ll do it.” lucas shrugs, eliciting a hard smack from you 

“don’t embarrass me, you asstwat” 

“who said i was asking him out for you? that boy is a fine piece of meat” 

“istg, lucas, i’ll actually gouge your eyes out” you deadpanned. 

but big ol’ oaf lucas doesn't see you as an actual threat. and he reaches out to grab your cheeks causing your face to form into a fish pout 

“can you even reach me?” he teases, shaking around your face

and this the part where you’re pulling lucas into a headlock, oblivious to the fact that jeno was watching your toughy actions from afar

he kicked the soccer ball angrily into the goal causing jaemin to duck with a small shriek to avoid getting his head decapitated by jeno’s fastball 

“dude wtf!” jaemin shouts 

“sorry,” jeno mutters. 

jaemin looks over to where jeno was staring at and saw you and lucas being really handsy with each other. from that distance that the two boys were looking it, it didn’t look like the roughhousing the two of you were actually doing

you pulling his hair to them looked like you were playing around with it  

jaemin’s buddy jeno be looking like a kicked puppy rn, muttering under his breath about his shortcommings

jaemin is bout ready to slap him upside down the head for having no confidence or whateves

“can you stop talking shit about my bestfriend now?” jaemin @ jeno but the boy is on a whole ass rant on why he sucks in comparison to lucas

“of course she doesn’t like me. she has a whole lucas wong and he’s 6′0 ft of handsomeness. he’s fun and exciting, i’m staler than a moldy piece of bread!” 

can jeno just love himself??????? is that to much to ask? 

“i’ll just never be good enough for her. i’m not her type, she can do better than me.” 

cue jaemin intense internal screaming 

one day, jeno was going to your usual sitting spot in the library when he sees lucas chilling with eun—a girl that he’s seen around with his friend chenle. they were both laughing at something on lucas’s phone. 

jeno looks at the sight confused. cause like aren’t you and lucas a thing? like why was this boy looking really chummy with this underclassmen? 

so jeno clears his throat to catch their attention and both of them look at him like “who tf are you?”

“where’s y/n? she’s suppose to be tutoring me” jeno says 

a look of recognition flashes across lucas’s and eun’s at the sound of y/ns name. the younger female whispers something to the senior causing him to clap his hands. 

“oh so you’re, jeno??” lucas says in this voice

and jeno awkwardly nods

“yeah, y/n is skipping school today so she told me to tell you to look over the notes she wrote out for you” lucas pulled out a notebook and handed it to jeno

jeno flips through it carefully, examining the words you wrote in your familiar handwriting; there was also a highlight code system and little side comments to help him

“thanks” jeno about to leave but lucas’s next comments stop him

“you’re lucky that y/n likes you enough to do that for you. she wouldn’t even tell me whats 4x4 when i asked her” lucas slumped into his seat

“that because she thinks you have chronic stupidity” the underclassmen said, giggling

“aren’t you suppose to be on my side you little pipsqueak” lucas says jokily, rubbing her head. 

and jeno is watching the exchange, getting more and more confused

did y/n know that lucas was hanging out w another girl without you?

“did you need something else, jeno?”  eun asked him

jeno is about to say no, but different words left his mouth

“aren’t you dating y/n, lucas?”

there was a silence that lasted for a good minute, both lucas and the underclassmen giving jeno a blank stare….

until lucas bust out into ugly laughter, bent over his seat delirious and eun was also laughing along but not to the same degree.

was it really that funny? jeno be staying confused

it wasn’t until the librarian came to shush the two did they stop laughing

lucas wiped away tears of laughter from his eyes “that was a good one!”

“what do you mean?” jeno asked

“pffft eun would rather date a rabid animal than me,” lucas said “she’s only friends w me bc i forced her to be”

oh! that was news to jeno

“besides, lucas isn't y/n’s type” eun revealed, shocking jeno

oh really now? 

“yeah, you fit her type really well,” lucas stated nonchalantly. 

eun is like BRUH WHY WOULD YOU REVEAL THAT but doesn’t say anything and kicks lucas underneath the table. she could already picture the pure anger once her friend found out that lucas spilled her secret crush that easily. 

robot jeno is just standing there holding the notebook and deep in thought. 

“is he okay?” lucas whispers, looking up and down at jeno. eun shrugs in response 

bOOM jeno zoom zooms away and the two high schoolers shrug at the jocks before returning to looking at dank memes 

jeno basically charges down to the only female he’s friends with for advice, ara. (go read my fucqboi! jaemin for the backstory!) 

conveniently, he finds both his jaemin and ara standing at her locker talking. tbh it looked more like jaemin trying to flirt with ara and her ignoring him. 

but right now his friend’s girl problems were the least of jeno’s concerns! 

so jeno basically hulk yanks jaemin away from ara and has the most serious expression on his face “i need your help, ara” 

“huh?” 

and he drags ara off to a more secluded place to explain his current situation to, ignoring jaemin’s whines

“to be honest with you, i think you need to have more confidence. now that you know that she isn't interested in lucas, why don’t you just take the initiative to confess?” ara says once jeno explained to her every juicy detail of his hopeless love story. 

“because i don’t think that she likes me. there’s nothing special about me. the only things i’m good at are sports and that’s not very interesting!” jeno exclaims “she probably thinks i’m an actual idiot!” 

“jeno, listen, i’m only going to say this once, but please please understand that you’re a very special person, okay? you’re extremely hard-working, nice, and honestly very fun to be around. it would take a fool to not like you, lee jeno.” ara sighed, patting her friend’s shoulder “just shoot your shot. if it doesn’t make it in, it’s okay.” 

but jeno doesn’t like leaving things to chance. he wants to be sure and he hates uncertainty. 

“when you’re competing or playing against someone, you have no idea how the whole game is going to pan out. all you know to do is to try your best and go all out to ensure the very best result so that you can win. liking someone is like that, you just have to go forward and hopefully, you’ll be able to score a home run or a touchdown.”  

that was sum deep shit 

after listening carefully to ara’s words, jeno came to a conclusion

maybe 

just maybe

jeno will take a chance.  

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone and sends a text. 

jeno: can you meet me at neo ice cream later? i have something important to tell you. 

y/n: yeah ofc. i’ll see you at 4 

he had soccer practice today and for the very first time, jeno was skipping practice, his favorite time. the only time where he’s ever fully confident in his abilities, where his stupid insecurities can’t get to him. 

this was more important the temporary self-gratification that jeno gets when he’s able to fly through practice with ease

lee jeno was taking a leap, unsure of where he’ll fall. 

today, he’ll shoot his shot. and hopefully, you’ll catch. 

[addierose444]

Back to Campus: Spring 2021

It has been 10 long months since I last stepped foot on the Smith College campus (or out of my home state for that matter). I am now officially back! Hooray! As I said in a recent post, I was prioritized for early arrival due to my job in ResLife as a Community Advisor. As I only just got here and am far from being settled in, this post is mostly just about the process. Hopefully this year I will actually post a room tour of sorts! (Last year, I literally only posted a photo of my emptied out room).  

Back in mid-December, I signed up for an arrival slot (2:00 on Friday the 22nd of January). I was so excited about returning to campus that I started packing quite a while ago. To make the packing process easier in the future, I created an extensive packing list. To read my college essentials guide, click here. On Friday, my dad drove me to Smith. Before returning to campus, we stopped by the house of some family friends to grab the rest of my dorm essentials. Since Massachusetts considers my state (Vermont) high-risk, I wasn’t allowed to move directly into my spring housing. At this point in time, Massachusetts and Hawaii are the only states with low-risk status. 

My house, Parsons, has been using Discord for our virtual house community. You can read about the other apps I use in (remote) college here. As I was the first one on campus, I decided to keep my residents updated on the check-in and quarantine process. This was not part of my job in ResLife, but it definitely felt relevant to that work. Even though I am a returning student and in ResLife, I didn’t fully know what to expect and figured others would appreciate a student’s perspective. I was already planning on writing this blog post but decided to just compile my updates here. For starters, I didn’t see the need for a total rewrite. I also thought it would be a fun and different post style. Lastly, I think there is value in knowing what people are thinking in the moment rather than just reflectively. Note that my updates are written to my Parsons residents and weren’t edited to reflect the audience of this blog. I did add some additional images to this blog post, but most were also sent via Discord.

Friday @ 1:19

Parsons in real life! 

Friday @ 4:07

Just a quick update. I have moved into my quarantine location and thought I would let you all know a little more about the check-in process from a student's perspective. All official information can be found in an email titled "IMPORTANT ARRIVAL INFORMATION". You basically just enter the CC, present your OneCard (unless you are a new student in which case you will receive yours), follow the arrows, and do what you are told. The whole process is quick and easy. The COVID test is painless (you can feel it though) as the swab doesn't need to go super deep into your nose like with other tests. While I strongly advise showing up at your scheduled time, if you are a little bit early, you may be able to check-in anyway. (I checked-in about 20 minutes early without an issue). The only hiccup I had was that I got the wrong room key (my correct room number but for Park House). As it's hard to hear people with masks on, be sure to check the envelope containing your room key and bracelet before leaving the ResLife table (to avoid going around the CC for a second time like I had to). I think check-in will only get better and even going around twice was still very quick and easy. If you have concerns and would like to talk to me about them, feel free to send me an email or direct message me here on Discord. As for moving things into Parsons, it was exhausting as no one was allowed to help me. When you arrive at Parsons, someone (possibly me) should be there to greet you (and make sure you don't stay over an hour). (Some of you may also meet me in the CC as I will be helping distribute keys). See you soon! 

Friday @ 5:02

As for the quarantine location, I am currently quarantined in the Ellery Inn. The other location is the Fairfield Inn & Suites. You can get to either location by way of a free shuttle. (Your ticket is the bracelet you receive at check-in). Students sit far apart with masks, but I personally felt more comfortable having my dad drop me off at the hotel. It is also worth noting that both hotels are within walking distance. The bracelet is also important so that staff in the house know you are allowed to be there. (If you have approved guests (low-risk state), I think they also get bracelets). I haven't learned the whole color-coding system, but my bracelet is red and lists my Parsons and Ellery rooms. My quarantine room is actually really nice. I have a comfortable king-sized bed and my own bathroom. When you arrive you get a bag with a few snacks, water, activities from OSE, and general information (including the wifi password). I will keep you posted on the food situation as dinner is yet to arrive. I will momentarily post the menu that was in my welcome bag. Hopefully, these updates are somewhat helpful or interesting. Let me know if you have specific questions.  

Friday at 5:15

Still waiting on dinner (to be delivered before 7), but here are the aforementioned snacks.

Friday @ 5:34

Dinner! Will let you know how it is soon, but my roommate from last year has said "The chicken is very tender!". Basically what happens is the people delivering the food knock loudly on the door, announce "dinner" and leave paper bags outside your room. Breakfast for tomorrow was also delivered.

Friday @ 6:18

I was initially quite worried about the food situation (during quarantine) as I am a picky eater and didn't get to choose the meal. (It's all based on the food preference form). The first dinner was much better than I feared. The chicken had flavor, was tender, and was fully cooked. The greens were also tasty. The potatoes could have used some ketchup but were pretty good when eaten with the chicken. I don't really like beets, so I just ate a few to try them. They didn't have much flavor but were well cooked. As for the cookies, they had good flavor but were very hard. Overall, I was unnecessarily worried about the food situation but am definitely excited to get out of quarantine to pick my own food among other things.

Friday @ 6:26

Tomorrow's breakfast! Looks pretty good other than the fact I hate bananas. I am most excited about the vanilla soy milk. I just don't get why we get plastic bottled water at each meal.

Saturday @ 11:51

Lunch for day two in quarantine has arrived. Another gripe that I have is that we get a new full set of plastic silverware at each meal. It's the compostable kind, but I don't think it's going to be composted. So far quarantine is boring, but not that bad. There is a TV in the room with cable and Roku. Make sure you pack your quarantine bag carefully as you cannot leave your room until you get an official release email from ResLife. The rooms (at least mine) have a mini-fridge, so if you have food or medications that require refrigeration, not to worry. We got an email today saying that we will be released on Monday at the latest. I initially had the impression we'd get out on Sunday and yesterday it sounded like we may get out today. I am obviously hoping to get out sooner rather than later, but I'll just have to wait and see.

Saturday @ 5:57

Dinner day two. Even though I have been busy with a French essay, I am definitely getting restless here in quarantine.

Saturday @ 6:38

Yesterday's dinner was better than today's, but this one wasn't too bad. The tortillas were dry, so the meal was better and less messy without them. My main critique is that while the beef had good flavor, it was tough. I also think yesterday's greens were a little bit better. Here's what I got for tomorrow's breakfast. I am hoping to be released from quarantine tomorrow, but it could be as late as Monday. Quarantine releases are at noon or 4 pm.

Sunday @ 9:15

I passed my initial COVID screening! (Still waiting on my official release email from ResLife). Just for a reference point, I took my test a little before 2 pm on Friday and got the results email at around 11 last night. (Basically, you get an email letting you know that the lab results are available and are given a registration code to set up your account).

Sunday @ 11:45

Well, I am still in quarantine, but at least lunch has arrived. Noon is fast approaching, so I might not be getting released until 4.

Sunday @ 12:33

I finally received the official release email from ResLife!!! I can leave as soon as 1 pm and must be moved out by 4 pm. Like with arrival, there are shuttles every half hour. Starting tonight I will be ordering my food through the Grubhub app and picking it up myself. I also have another COVID test scheduled for tomorrow.

Sunday @ 1:17

I am officially back at Parsons! (I decided to walk instead of taking the shuttle). Feel free to continue asking questions, but I think this is the end of my arrival updates. See you soon!

[kattodoroki]

awkward assistance. (Bakugou x Reader)

/Back at it again w the fic! hopefully, this one is enjoyable, likes, reblogs, and comments are so loved and welcome! thanks for reading <3/

You thought being Bakugou’s new sidekick was going to be cake, it turns out you took a big piece that you knew you weren’t going to finish.

---

You had applied for a lot of jobs, mostly ones in a different country, you just didn’t want to live in the United States anymore. Graduating from a good hero school really paid off for you; you were really proud of your resume and having a lot of recommendations. You wanted to take the first plane out of your country once you got a call, any call would make you buy any plane ticket.

Your anxiety with each passing day started to get dreadful, staring at your phone, desperately waiting for the call you feared you would never get. Until four days after you started applying, you had finally gotten your call. You tried so hard to understand what the person on the other side of the phone was saying, they had to get you a translator eventually. Besides not knowing the language you still took the job, more than excited to hop on a plane to Japan.

Once you got there after copious amounts of hours on the flight, you finally landed in Japan. You left the plane and found it comical when you found someone holding up a sign with your name on it, in English. You found it hard to not laugh when you saw the limo waiting for you also. You came to realize that it was your job that was doing all of this for you, you thought it was overboard but you weren’t going to complain about a free ride, not really wanting to make conversation with the driver.

When you got there you were getting smaller by the minute, already feeling the weight begin to drop on your shoulders. Having now realized how many people you were going to talk to and interact with, you felt the new job hype wash away, your awkward demeanor now crawling back like a monster you haven’t killed yet. It fit you even worse when you remember that you were also meeting your boss.

Once you were welcomed into the agency everyone smiled and saying hello, or at least what you guessed was hello. You had been informed over the phone that the head of the agency only knew how to speak English and also translate other people for you, so you knew you were going to meet him right away. You were waiting in the lobby, not bothering to even sit down, you just stared at your feet and waited on the ding of the elevator.

When you heard it you thought your heart was going to jump out of your chest, you almost broke your neck, snapping it up when the annoying sound hit your ears. You stared at the man, you parted your lips to form a gasp that never escaped, he looked beautiful with a permanent scowl on his face, silently hoping he wasn’t going to yell at you on your first day. He wore his suit with a wild hair due that didn’t match his neat body.

You closed your mouth, realizing that he now parked himself in front of you, now looking down at your closed posture. You didn’t really know what to say, wondering if you should start the conversation, but your throat closed, palms now forming a fine layer of sweat, and you noticed the room was ten times hotter now. You wanted to reach a formality with him, wanting to leave a first good impression by just saying a simple hello, knowing that he would understand, but you felt defeated when nothing came out, just staring him down like a hawk.

He cleared his throat, wanting attention, you wished you could grow smaller, “Hello, I’m your new boss, Bakugou Katsuki, or you can call me by my hero name, ‘Ground Zero’,” He paused in case you wanted to add anything and when you didn’t he continued, “You are my new sidekick, yes?” He looked at you, smirking. All you did was shake your head yes, now remembering that was the position you did apply for online. His smirk grew wider, satisfied with your reply, “Good, you and I will be working together, let’s go to my office and we can discuss the details further.” He picked up his foot and turned on his heel, now walking away from you, you stared at his back for a second, admiring the way his hips slightly swayed with the way he walked. You reluctantly followed him to the elevator, not daring to look at his employees eyeing you.

You noted that he kept the elevator open for you, knowing you took the longest time to stare you were surprised he even waited for you. The ride up to his office was layered with a quiet awkward aroma, you wanted to disappear but your boss didn’t think anything of it, just scrolling away on his phone.

You gave a little sigh in relief when the door opened up, showing off dark, professional office space, you were welcomed by the cold temperature, now feeling like you could actually breathe again. You looked back at your boss and quickly looked away when you noticed that he was looking at you, you gave the floor a wide-eyed look and you scrunched your face up in embarrassment.

He chuckled and you didn’t dare to look at him, you would probably die from embarrassment. He moved over to his desk and started moving things around, trying to clear the awkward air by being away from you; you didn’t blame him. He cleared his throat and walked towards a smaller desk that was more towards the wall then the middle of the room, “This is your desk,” He stated.

You bowed your head, “Thank you, sir,” You didn’t realize that your voice had even cracked and you were flushed like a tomato. You looked up at him and started making your way towards your desk, now inspecting every little detail about it.

“Now I will let you get comfortable and then we will discuss sleeping arrangements.” He didn’t look at you, you looked over to see him sitting comfortably at his desk, now looking through papers. You hummed in response, now remembering that this job did come with free housing provided by the company. You sat down at your desk, admiring how the chair pulled out with ease, not making a scratching noise from the floor. You pushed yourself forward and folded your hands atop the table, smiling about how professional you felt at the moment. You felt indifferent as you continued to stare, your smile faltered thinking about how dumb you looked. You forced your lips into a thin line, trying your hardest not to quiver with each aching moment that passed by in awkwardness.

Bakugou coughed, and you look at him, he was staring at you with a look in his eyes that he was about to say something. You waited a good two minutes before he even started speaking, “Let’s go check out that apartment, yeah?” You nodded and stood up, banging your knee on the desk in the process, your boss tried not to laugh but didn’t say anything in response, you didn’t say anything about it either, now just wanting to get out of there.

Bakugou lead you to the apartment building next door, “I built this so my employees would have an easier time getting to work, it's optional to live here though, but its all owned by me,” He smiled with pride. You looked the tall building up and down, impressed that he managed to do this also, he must really love his agency if he was willing to go this far and house some of his employees. You walked in after him, now taking in the nicer interior, “Your apartment is on the same floor as mine, since you’re my sidekick you get the second-best seat in the house.” He smirked.

You swallowed, nodding at his statement, you didn’t really care where you were put at but you weren’t fond of the idea of sharing a floor with him. You just wished it was furnished already so you could go inside and sleep the rest of the day away. Bakugou leads you to the elevator and pushed the button, “I already had your things sent here if that's okay,” He looked over at you and you gave him a nod, “It’s just easier that way.”

You chuckled at his comment but didn’t say anything, not really wanting to compliment on his sense of humor, this was your boss after all. “Thanks, for this.” You whispered looking down at the floor.

He didn’t say anything, just waited with his hands in his pockets. When the elevator dinged you followed him down the hall and a door that was identical on the right, you noticed your boss’s last name was on the door, and your last name was on the door across. You cringed when he slide the key into the lock, now opening up the door with your name on it. He motioned his arms towards the room, wanting you to get a look of it before he entered. You walked past him, keeping your head down, not wanting your awkward expression to be seen. You lifted your head up, now meeting the warm glow of the lantern above you, how the floor windows showed you a perfect sight of the city, and how the furniture complimented the wall paint. You were really in awe from an apartment, one that was much better than the one you lived in at home.

“It’s great, I love it.” You said out loud, hopefully, your boss around to hear the praise.

“I look forward to working with you, your resume was very impressive.” He said.

You were taken aback at his compliment, “T-thanks.” You managed to squeak out.

“We start training tomorrow, show me what you can do with your quirk.” He looked at you for confirmation.

You nodded, “Of course sir, I’ll be there on time.” You gave him a courteous smile.

“I sure hope so,” He mumbled before closing the door and leaving you alone.

You sigh in content, now moving to the bedroom to finally sleep for the day… and night.

You awoke to your alarm, now getting you up an hour before work. You noted how your boss had placed a special space in the closet for your hero costume, you put it on with vigor of excitement, now actually wanting to interact with someone new, wanting to prove you are more than a scared sidekick from a different country.

You left for the agency and gladly made your way to the elevator, now going to your office desk, and sitting down, patiently waiting for your boss. You were watching your computer screen, noticing that he arrived forty-five minutes after you left, you smiled at him and felt your cheeks flair up when heat when he didn’t smile back. You quickly snapped your head down and stared at your hands like they were the most important thing in the room.

You looked back up at Bakugou, trying to sneak a glance every few seconds. You noticed how different he looked now wearing his hero costume, looking like a completely different person from when he wore his suit. Taking in his form, the way he was fit so securely in the restraints of fabric, how they molded his body into that of a God, one you wanted to worship for the rest of your life. You shook your head, not even clocked in for two hours and you already thinking about your boss in a way that was upmost unprofessional. You sighed, now just wanting to train and show off your quirk.

“Let’s go,” You looked up from where Bakugou was now standing, in front of the open elevator, waiting in annoyance for you to come and join him. You quickly got up, remembering not to hit your knee this time and make a fool of yourself, you bounced over to where he was and joined him in the confinements of the elevator. You watched with worry as the doors closed.

It took a minute and about twenty floors before you made it to the training area, you looked around and noticed that it was only you and Bakugou. He was your boss after all, and you were there to be his sidekick so you knew you would have to show him your quirk now, you had to explain it on the resume but there is only so much you could write with words.

“Okay, let’s start.” He informed you, you smiled and walked over to the middle of the room, you touched the chair that was in front of you, but didn’t sit down.

Bakugou gave you a quizzical look, “Show me.”

You tried to hide the laugh that was rising out of your throat, “Pick up the chair.”

He scoffed and moved over to your surroundings, now entering the space between you and the chair, he turned away from you and tried to pick up the chair, he struggled and tried to pry the metal legs from the floor. You watched and admired how his bicep and tricep flexed every time he tested the strength of the chair.

He huffed and looked over at you, “Impressive.” You smiled and looked down at the ground, not wanting him to see the awkwardness that invaded your body. You kicked his shoe, making him stay in place. He tried to move but wasn’t able to, you laughed as he tried to move his foot.

“I see,” He gave a weak chuckle, “Very funny. Now undo it.” You complied and touched his shoe again, now making it a bit lighter than what it was, to begin with.

He sighed and straightened his costume out, “Ready to go patrolling.” You nodded in response, face still stinging red from trying to joke around with him. You followed him down to the main floor and out the building, you enjoyed the warm sun and slight breeze, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

“Let’s go.” Bakugou found himself repeating the same words from this morning. You opened your eyes and looked at him in surprise, feeling dumb that he caught you in an embarrassing daydream. You followed him down the street, trailing after him in his shadow like he was still leading you somewhere that you would never reach.

“Stop hiding,” He grumbled. You reluctantly stepped out of the darkness and forced yourself to keep pace with him as you walked side by side. You felt honored that he saw you as an equal but uneasy about how professional he was trying to be like it felt wrong.

Bakugou and you didn’t get any calls yet, but you heard shouting, alarmed by the commotion Bakugou put an arm out making you stop, you collided with his arm and looked at the men, you realized the group was yelling to you and your boss.

You didn’t understand what they were saying, but you noticed it was bad by how Bakugou’s calm demeanor changed to sour.

You froze, now feeling all eyes on you, “What did they say?” You whispered to your boss.

“Uh, Nothing,” Bakugou managed to tell you through the anger he was trying to suppress.

“Was it anything good?” You asked. You tugged on the sleeves of your shirt, you got a rock ready, now touching it with your shoe, making it lighter so you could launch it at them, you looked over at your boss who looked like he was going to do worse damage, you were confused on what they said that made him really angry but if it really was bad then you probably didn’t want to hear it too. You tried your best to drown out the yelling and focus on your boss, trying to fight back the rising panic in your chest and ignore the way your stomach contorted every time they opened their mouth you felt like you were about to dissolve into dust and fly away with the wind. You looked at Bakugou for a response, a validation that everything was okay, and that you didn’t need to panic.

“Uh, No.” Your boss answered.

[theangelofhorrors]

The Opossum (Deadly Premonition Fan Exchange 2019)

Summary: Polly asks York to help out with a pest problem at the hotel. It’s proving to be a little harder than catching the usual suspects.

Word Count: 1331 words

A/n: He have class, he give sass, but most importantly he scream at own ass.

Okay but seriously......

For the Deadly Premonition Fan Exchange/Secret Santa, I got @meme-queen-lucy. I heard you like opossums (a word I’m slowly still learning how to spell), so hopefully you’ll like this too. I also legit thought about making an opossum a deputy of Greenvale because I thought was something Swery would do lol. Too bad that didn’t make the final cut.

Also a special thanks to @michaeltillotson for beta-ing for me. I absoltutely appreicate anyone who takes the time to look at any of my stuff. Thank you again for helping me out. You are also the person who had set up this whole exchange thing for such a weird, niche game. This one’s for you too.

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“This isn’t what I expected when I signed up for the FBI. Isn’t that right, Zach?”

It was nearly 9 am and the rain spattered with rhythmic force against the window pane in the dining hall.

With a half empty cup of coffee, York was thinking about what Polly had said moments ago,  before they finished breakfast and she excused herself from the table.

“Agent Morgan, if it’s not too much trouble…”

“What is it, Polly?”

There was an infestation problem in the hotel.

“But don’t you worry, it’s nothing too serious.”

It was an opossum. Just the one.

“Just the one?” he asked.

“Yes, I think so.”

She mentioned that she had spotted this particular little thing digging around the trash cans outside the hotel over the past few days. At first, she paid no attention to it. Animals never bothered Polly, especially not living in this part of the country. It reminded her of the times she and her husband had gone out on hikes through the woods many years ago. They took many photos of themselves with nature and her companions with a polaroid she still had in her possession.

However, this little rascal made it through the door.

This...could cause some issues with the hotel and its guests.

What to do…?

“Again, Agent Morgan, if it isn’t too much trouble. I’m much too old and slow to do it myself.”

“Of course, Polly. I’ll see what I can do. It’s just one possum. How hard could it be?”

Polly also made sure that he would not kill the animal once he found it.

Possums. They’re like raccoons or oversized rats. No different than any pest York had met in the city. Plus, it should be easier to catch this than any of the criminals he had pursued.  

Why didn’t I listen to you, Zach?

That was three days ago…

“Having a hard time there, Agent York?”

It was Emily. She was completing eating it up alongside lunch at the sheriff’s department.

“An agent of the bureau can’t catch one little possum.”

York rolled his eyes.

Just like grade school…

“I’m an officer of the law, Emily. I catch people, not animals. I’m not a hunter.”

“I know you’re not,” she smiled. He didn’t mind the sight of her like this, especially during this horrid investigation, but not at his expense. “But it’s pretty funny that you’re having so much trouble. Have you thought about asking for help? Maybe Thomas knows something about possums.”

Dammit, why haven’t we thought about that before?

Thomas did in fact know something about possums.

“Well, first off, it’s ‘opossum�� and not possum.”

“What’s the difference?” York shrugged.

“Only that opossums live here in North America while possums live in Australia.”

During another break in the late afternoon, near evening, Thomas went deep into detail about what he knew about them.

They are not rodents, but marsupials, and have pouches to carry their young. They have opposable thumbs and use their tails to grasp things.

“They have a vast diet too,” he mentioned, “and by that, I mean they’ll eat anything, including garbage. Every so often we get a call from someone asking if we could remove one from their trash bins.”

“I didn’t know the sheriff’s department handled animal control.”

“We don’t. We just don’t have anyone else to handle it. It’s a small town after all.”

After some further consultation, by the time the day was over and everyone had said their good nights, York was brainstorming his plan.

“I think, Zach,” he said on the drive back to the hotel, “we’ll need a trap of sorts. Maybe we could use the snacks we’ve collected in our room. We need a box or a cage or something like that…” The car neared Greenvale’s edge by the waters, the moon a bright crescent in a lonely sky.

He chuckled.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t turn out like Mouse Trap. Remember, Zach? 1997. I’m not planning on becoming Chris Walken here.”

It was nearing 8 by the time he made it to the hotel. He greeted Polly by the front desk and asked about her day. The television playing in the background droned on about tomorrow’s forecast as she answered.

“I saw that darn opossum again. He scurried past me in the kitchen earlier today. I think I saw him go down one of the corridors here. God knows where he is now. I hope he isn’t making a mess in one of my rooms.”

“Don’t worry about it, Polly. I’ve been hatching up a plan to catch the thing. By tomorrow morning, I’ll get a trap set up.”

Naturally, Polly was delighted to hear this.

After a late dinner, York said his good night to Polly before heading to his room.

“If I have to be honest, Zach, all I can think about is whether I should shower now or in the morning.”

With a yawn and his eyelids drooping, the agent opened the door to his hotel room. He took off his suit jacket, his hands slipping out the sleeves, and went to shut the door behind him and find the light switch.

That’s when he noticed the crumbs on the floor.

He almost missed it.

They were as plain as day in the light under York’s sleepy gaze. They looked like bread or cookie crumbs and they made a trail that led to the bed, just a few feet away. Near the foot of the bed, crumbs and various other scraps of food and packaging were scattered in a mess around the suitcase he had brought his clothes in. The suitcase itself was open and on the floor. His shirts and pants were scattered, thrown around the floor. 

By now, York was wide awake, gun in hand.

Each careful step warranted a wide sweep of the eyes across every possible hiding place.

A hotel room is an odd place to rob. Not to mention the fact that nothing looked to be stolen. The only item that was out of place was the suitcase. Nothing else was opened or turned over. What was the motive behind this strange crime scene?

There was a squeak, like one of a small animal, and York’s arm snapped forward, hands ready to fire his gun. 

By the far side of the bed, near the windows, one of his shirts had piled up. However, there was something hiding underneath it. It was rising and falling, like the rhythm of someone’s breath.

With a nimble hand, the other remaining on the gun, he went to pluck the shirt away.

There in the open was the opossum. And he appeared to be asleep.

That, or he had eaten too much, and was or on the verge of passing out in front of the agent in his own room. He laid on his side, little pink paws outstretched, tail curled against him, and tongue out on the floor, drooling himself a pool of spit. His eyes were half open, and his ears twitched every so often.

“Well, Zach,” York sighed, putting his gun back in his holster, “looks like we found the little rascal.”

Despite himself, York poked the animal with a pen from his pocket. He obviously wasn’t dead, but he definitely wasn’t quite conscious. He let out another squeak upon contact with the pen.

“He must have found my stash of snacks. That’s what I get for hiding them in my suitcase. Better call Thomas.”

He got up and headed for the phone.

The opossum remained where he was and continued his nap on the floor, gurgling into his little puddle of drool, while York dialled.

[life-of-ice]

Masaki Sako's Entrance Exam

@taiyuu-high-oct

Trumpets blared out from the phone.

Masaki woke up, and leaned off his be to reach for his phone to turn off all five of his alarms. He blinked blearily and squinted to try and identify the time.

Maybe it’s 10:00? God, I really need to stop being so lazy and fix the settings on my phone.

After squinting at it for a few more minutes, he shrugged, and hopped out of bed. Getting the clothes he laid out the night before, he quickly got dressed, and made a mental note to do some laundry once he got home. And buy some groceries maybe, they needed some more. After all, Masaki’s parents were going to be gone all day. He put some bread in the toaster, and ran off to finish getting ready for the day.

Brushing his teeth and his hair, he idly scrolled through tumblr,  and resolutely ignored his contacts case which stared at him accusingly.

Ooh look, new posts about quirked animals! Can’t believe Nezu’s not on that list. Kinda weird, but okay. I think it’s time to go soon, let’s hurry back upstairs!

Masaki jumped as trumpets blared again from his phone, one more alarm set for the express purpose of making sure he wasn’t late.

Well shit.

And now he really needed to boogie. Grabbing his shoes, his prepacked backpack, an his piece of toast, he dashed out the door to reach the last train before it left for the docks.

“Aw shit!” He dashed back inside to retrieve his bag of jewelry, and then finally left, sprinting for all he’s worth towards the train station.

“Good luck on our exam!” yelled his neighbor as he rushed by.

“Thanks!” he yelled back.

Still sprinting he hears a chorus of mutters from besides him and sees a blue haired girl, making large leaps to go at a fast pace.

"Oh no I'm going to be late and miss the last train, if I don't make it I'm not going to get in….."

Having noticed Masaki, she looked up. 

"Oh hello! Based on what you're doing, I bet you're running late for the train too, huh?"

Masaki nodded in response, too busy running to respond properly.

She giggled, and he smiled at her.

They got to the train station, and somehow, when Masaki turned to make sure he was getting on the right train, he lost her.

That's a shame. It's kinda sad to ride the train by yourself.

Masaki got off the train, and ran to the docks, hoping that the transportation was not what he thought it would be. 

He looked up at a gargantuan boat, with TH printed on it in bright letters.

Of course it's a boat, the school's on an island, dumbass. Ok, so maybe it won't be that long.

"Hey applicants! Be prepared for a 30 min boat trip!"

Yeah, no. It wasn't going to be a short boat trip.

After a long, long boat trip in which Masaki queasily reconsidered all of his life choices to go to school on an island that he couldn’t fly to, they finally arrived at the dock of Taiyuu High School.

The place for hero hopefuls.

Three people welcomed the applicants on a podium, one was a lady with black and white hair, who was kinda scary looking. Another was a deer man in a suit, and the last was a dog. 

The dog looked smart.

"Hello! I am Mrs. Chikyu, and I'm the principal here at Taiyuu High. This is the vice principal, Mr Kazumi. Alright applicants! First there's the written test," the lady waited for the groans and moans to subside then continued, "Then there's the practical exam! The practical exam is an obstacle course where you'll have to beat up some robots, save some people, and get to the finish line as fast as you can!" 

She paused for their murmurs again."Also, the test is on another island. So be prepared for one more boat trip! But for now, follow either me, or Mr. Kazumi to go your written exam rooms."

Not another one.

All of the applicants finish in record time it feels like, die to the anticipation of the practical exam. And they board one more boat to get to another island.

Masaki sighs as he watches the other applicants mill around, all of which seem much more confident then he was. He started putting on his multitude of jewelry, first the iron ring, then the turquoise necklace, then the silver bracelet, and finally gold earrings.  Masaki glanced disastefully down at himself.

“Man, I haven’t been this mismatched in a longg time.” he muttered, eyeing the shininess of his jewelry in comparison to his drab sleeveless hoodie, sweatpants, and red shoes. 

A few minutes later, they finally arrived. 

Masaki looked up in astonishment at this humongous facility, that was used only once a year for just entrance exams.

Imagine what the real thing is like, Masaki.

The principal clapped her hands to grab their attention. “Alright folks, let’s get started! Don’t forget, you need to finish one lap through the course! Okay, GOOOO!”

Startled by the abrupt start, everyone froze to look at the principal who only smiled back at them. She shooed them forward, “I said go already! Come on, guys!”

Along with most of the other applicants, he finally took the hint and took off, dashing as hard as he could as he headed for his first obstacles.

It looked like the first zone was an absolutely trashed city. All of it was ruined, with building skeletons, fires, and wreckage, everywhere he looked. He vaguely remembered something about rescuing people from the principal’s first speech, but she skimmed over it so quickly that Masaki definitely could not remember what was said about it. 

Masaki was going to fly over the course to get to the end faster, and maybe get to the so called villains a bit faster. He did need a place to jump off from, because while his wings were strong, they acted more like a glider because of his body wasn't completely adjusted for wings. 

He ran towards the closest building skeleton with the intent of climbing it, when he stumbled over a humanoid robot.

I wonder what this is doing here. Maybe it’s a robot that someone defeated already?I

A sign flashed on the robot’s chest. It said “Rescue Me”.

“Alright, gotta do what the lady asks.” said Masaki shrugging. He picked up the robot, and ran towards the closest “safe zone” which were marked by the forcefield around it, to keep applicants safe if they needed a break, or to store these “people” to save. 

He was almost to the safe zone when he heard a heavy thud. He turned quickly to see what was behind him, and what he saw was a giant robot with a two printed on it, aiming a laser at the person on his back. 

Masaki looked up at the robot. “Well, that’s fun.” 

The robot made a big show of charging up its laser, and Masaki sprinted into the safe zone to get the person inside. The laser fired seconds after he entered, and it hit the barrier.

He wiped the sweat off his face in his short respite, and launched himself back into the fray, watching carefully as other people used their quirks to destroy robots and move forward, someone was punching very neat holes through the robot, someone appeared to be teleporting robots’ heads off, it was nuts. 

Masaki faced down the robot that was firing at him earlier, and eyed it. He already knew what he was going to do, but he needed to be sure that there was enough time for him to do it. 

1.

2.

3.

Ok, let’s go!

Masaki started tapping his eyeballs frantically, and activated his quirk, forming two iron and turquoise knives. Dissipating his wings, he whipped out the knives to begin stabbing and climbing up the giant robot. Reaching the top, having barely broken a sweat, he formed a much, much larger chunk of turquoise and started bashing the robots head like there was no tomorrow. Satisfied with his destruction, he dissipated his weapons, reformed his wings, and launched himself off the robot, going on to the next robot that he saw repeating the process on quite a few others.

This is wayyy too easy. How’s this an exam? How many robots have I destroyed? How many people have I rescued? God, I hope I have enough points to pass…. Oh lol, she just fell off that robot!

Masaki had no idea how many he had destroyed, but he figured his point level was getting higher. He had made a few of the robots shoot at each other, and the ones with a 3 on them were easy to trip up. He continued to rescue people both from robots, and from other applicants who were being so stupid with their quirks. 

He growled in frustration as he threw up a wall of earth to protect the person he's rescuing.

Like really guys, it's not that hard to just aim!

Cursing as his eyes twitched in pain from the dust around him, he reached the next zone, only to find that it’s just a mountain.

Round two, same procedure. 

Make knives. 

Climb Robot.

Bash the robot’s head in, dissipate his weapons, and glide down. 

Rinse, and repeat.

Masaki made it to the next zone in record time, having an easier time making it uphill then the other applicants due to having climbed one of the robots and soaring over the peaks instead of climbing over it like an average pleb.

He reveled in the feeling of the wind through his hair, and wondered what it would be like to really have wings. Wings made of flesh and blood that he could feel. 

If only I were more like my parents. 

In the midst of his enjoyment, he winced as he realized that he probably missed a bunch of people to rescue. 

The mountain came to an abrupt end, as it started steeply plunging downhill, showing a terrain made of different sized rocks. It looked like a landslide. The robots looked like they were having a hard time navigating through the terrain. 

I’m going to have to be more careful.

Instead of rushing at the robots like he had earlier, now he went a bit slower, to make sure he wasn't knocking anything down. 

He climbed up on more robot, and knocked it out with his usual technique, when he realized that it was collapsing. 

Oh no. Oh no no no no.

Masaki watched in horror as he saw the thing tilt and crashdown, underneath him, and frantically leaped off, hopefully to avoid the giant landslide that he was sure was going to crash down and crush something.

He landed several meters away, and braced himself for the inevitable thud.

Only it didn't come. All the rocks remained in their exact positions before the robot had fallen.

Of course they wouldn't make it so it could hurt anybody. I guess the rocks really are stable!

Masaki had glided his way to the last zone, having rescued people and bashed robots along the way, when he came to what looked like a shore line. A big shoreline. There were floating robots with lasers floating around.

He could see the end in the distance, indicated by two bright yellow flags, and saw other competitors heading towards it already, making creative uses of their quirks to get across.

Masaki sighed and blinked his eyes blearily. There wasn't any place high enough for him to glide off of, so he's going to have to swim over to one of the robots and climb one of those.

Damn, I'm so tired.

He sighed, and got into the water, shivering at its cold temperature and began swimming. He agonized at the sight of all the other applicants making much better time than him, and when he finally reached the robot, he didn't even try to do anything cool. He swung up, bashed it with huge chunk of turquoise and called it a day.

He finally reached the top, and reformed his wings for the last time. He jumped and glided down from the robot, almost to the finish line when he saw someone struggling in the water.

It was a person covered with freckles and an awful tie dye job that he had seen earlier in the waiting room.

Oh dear. I think he's drowning. But how is he drowning? I mean, his head is above the water.

With a pang of shock, Masaki swooped a bit lower to see what was wrong, and misjudging his aim, nosedived into the water.

"SHI-!"

The other person, taking no notice of him, continued to struggle in the water.

"Hey-" Masaki coughed. " I'm going to try and get you out, ok?"

The winged boy dissipated his wings, and grabbed onto the other person by the arm, and tried dragging them to the finish line, which was so, so close, but so far away from a kid who had been going full force with nothing but his brute strength.

Why did I ever think I could rescue someone else in the water when I'm this exhausted? Also, why does the person feel like they got stabbed a bunch or something?

Masaki reached down to his feet and created a large piece of plastic to float on the surface of the water with the freckles person. 

Yeah, I'm not going to make it. This plastic is only going to last for a few more seconds, I hope someone's going to come out here to come help us.

Masaki felt a weight on the piece of plastic that was keeping them afloat. He looked up to see a grey skinned girl, reaching down and touching the two people. The world spun, and then they landed, thankfully, at the finish line.

Masaki got up from his face plant, and looked at his savior. 

"Thank you for saving me!" said Masaki rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, about that, I didn't mean to mess with your race."

She glanced at him for a moment, muttered something, and walked off.

He watched her leave and shrugged. Let bygones be bygones, right?

Masaki went to crouch by the freckles person, who now that he realized, was covered with holes. 

Yup, sure, why not.

The brown haired boy shook their shoulder.

" Hey. Are you doing ok?"

They stirred, and sat up. 

"How the fuck did I get here? I mean I know I fell off a robot, but jeez. Did I suddenly gain the ability to teleport?"

" Well, no, but that girl can teleport!" The holey kid with green eyes spun around to look at Masaki. " She got us out!"

"Oh that's good," They sighed, and frowned. "What do you mean, we?"

Masaki grinned sheepishly and blinked hard to try and clear his vision. "Um, I tried to rescue you? And I started drowning myself?"

He snorted. "That's one way to go."

Masaki grinned. "Yup, it sure is. Isn't it super cool that we made it! I hope we passed! And..."

The two walked off together towards the main building, and waited for the rest of the applicants.

".... And that's how my quirk works!"

The Principal butted in, and announced to the crowd of kids.

"Alright guys! See you next time! Your results will come in the mail in a few days! Good luck!"

With that, they were delivered back to the docks.

Masaki returned home to an empty house, and finished his chores for the day. He left a note for his parents telling about his day, and took off all his jewelry. 

As he fell asleep, there was only one thought in his mind. 

And now we wait.

[initiala]

No fooling--a new chapter is up!!

Skipping all the fuss and muss, you all know what we’re here for. Wedding bells are ringing and there’s a mating ceremony to get to. IT’S VERY LONG AND FULL OF EMOTIONS!!

Thanks as ever to my girls @distant-rose and @idoltina

Also on AO3 and FF.Net

"And this is the honeymoon suite."

He noted that several of their bags were already in the room; they'd been told that Emma's dress had already been delivered and stored in the bridal suite downstairs, and the rest of her things for tomorrow had been whisked away by the astonishingly efficient venue attendants. He smiled when Emma sucked in a breath and her hand shot out to grip his arm as she took in the room itself.

It was almost like they'd specially redecorated it to match their wedding theme. White walls and low bookcases encased hardwood floors covered in red oriental rugs; almost the entirety of the outside wall was windows that looked out over the snow-covered gardens and woods beyond. There were large, comfortably plush red armchairs near a fireplace - unlit at the moment but he might insist on them lighting it just to add to the ambiance - and a free-standing wardrobe flanked the entrance to the bathroom. The bed, though, he sensed that his dearest wanted to do nothing more than face plant onto the unbelievably plush-looking red quilt and test out just how soft those pillows seemed to be.

"This is amazing," she breathed, walking to the windows to look out over the grounds. Snow fell thick and fast, as it had been during their drive up here, and made everything look truly magical. "Seriously, this is more than what I could have asked for."

Killian came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle and pressing a kiss to her neck. When the inevitable question of 'where are we going to stay if we're having our wedding two hours away' had arisen, Killian had made all the arrangements under a strict agreement of surprise. Knowing Emma's reluctance to spend money, especially on something she might otherwise deem 'frivolous' or 'selfish', he'd especially wanted to keep such a grand suite of rooms secret - not to deceive her, but to spoil her as he so often wanted to. And staying in the manor that they were to be wed in would certainly make tomorrow easier, both during the day and the night to come.

The beautiful wintery scenes outside and the fact that the decor matched their theme was only a happy accident.

"It's nothing more than you deserve, my love," he told her, sincerity laced in his voice. Then, in a much lower tone - well aware that the concierge with them was also a werewolf - he added, "Let's hope they've reinforced the bed, aye?"

Arousal spiked her scent, making him grin. He backed off, looking back at the concierge, who had the decency to pretend she hadn't heard anything. "And the bachelor's suite?" he asked.

He heard Emma make the smallest noise of protest, but this at least they had discussed. While he wasn't a particularly suspicious wolf, he figured that with his luck with women - losing a hand for one and (in a roundabout way) getting shot while with another - he'd had all the terrible luck he could stand for a lifetime and didn't want to chance anything else. They'd spend the night apart and he wouldn't see her until she was walking towards him down the aisle.

"This way, sir."

Emma slipped her hand in his as they walked down the hall; thankfully it wouldn't be far and he could at least still smell her if he tried. "I don't want to do this," she murmured. "We haven't spent the night apart since you moved in."

"Codependent," he teased, though he understood exactly how she felt. "It's one night, love, we'll be fine. After tomorrow, there'll be no getting rid of me."

"Promise?"

"Aye," he said, pausing to lean down and give her a quick kiss.

The bachelor's suite wasn't nearly as grand as the honeymoon suite, but it suited him just fine. The polish on the wood was dark, rather than white, though the theme of red still ran through the fabrics and the bed looked just as comfortable as the one they'd share tomorrow night. His bags were there already as well, his tuxedo for tomorrow hanging in the wardrobe. "Well, this is cozy," he said, giving Emma's hand a squeeze.

"Shall I give you some time to rest after the drive out here, or would you prefer to go over the last minute details?" the concierge asked.

Killian shared a glance with Emma. He wasn't tired; he really just needed to stretch, and moving around making final decisions would help with that. She shrugged. "I'm okay to do prep stuff. We can take a break before the rehearsal later."

The concierge smiled and led them downstairs.

It was funny, he decided, how all the details and plans they'd been making weren't nearly as many as the ones done just in the last week. In addition to their own things, they'd brought bags of favors and decorations put together in the evenings, many of which would have to be taken home again and Killian had no earthly idea where they'd put them or if they'd even reuse them at all. These things needed to have designated places at the venue, and then there were discussions about floral arrangement placements, finalizing table setup, going over the guest list one last time, reviewing catering options again for both the rehearsal and the reception…

He had the beginnings of a headache by the time they were released from duties to relax and prepare for the rehearsal dinner in a few hours. "Can you believe these people think this is a small wedding?" he asked wearily as they trooped up the stairs.

"It is a small wedding," Emma said. She led them into the honeymoon suite, sighing in relief as she flopped onto the bed. Killian rolled his eyes good-naturedly as it took her another minute to remember to kick her shoes off. "Neither of us have large immediate families, few close friends. I think the most of the guest list is some business associates your brother insisted on and some of the ranking pack leadership that my uncle said we had to invite."

He grunted as he took off his own shoes before laying back on the absurdly comfortable bed. "All those bloody party favors say otherwise."

She hummed, rolling over to face him. "I thought you liked the favors."

He forgot, for a moment, what they were discussing as he took in the sparkle in her green eyes, the way the light caught in her hair and made it glow. The quirk of her lips said she knew he wasn't thinking about party favors anymore. "I do like them," he said, proving her wrong. "I just liked the idea of them more than the creation of them."

"Well, now they get to go to other people who hopefully like them and appreciate all the effort we put into them," she said, scooting forward enough to rest her head against his chest.

"The literal blood poured into them with all the papercuts," Killian mused, pulling her close and resting his nose against her hair. She giggled against him and he breathed in her scent, letting it wash over him and ease the tension between his shoulders. "Liam texted earlier, they'll be here soon."

Emma hummed, her hand fisting in his shirt. He could sense she was on the precipice of sleep; he wasn't sure he'd be able to, knowing his brother and family would be arriving shortly, but he'd be more than content to lay here with her, especially knowing that this would be their last peaceful moment alone before tomorrow night.

Tomorrow.

He exhaled slowly, trying to keep his breathing even and a tight rein on his emotions; Emma would wake up if she sensed any changes and he didn't know how to talk to her about this. It might, he decided, reflect badly on their pending nuptials that he felt uneasy about discussing said pending nuptials. But it was difficult to figure out how to discuss his feelings when he knew bungling his phrasing would only make her afraid that he would leave her. He really just needed some time alone with his brother - Liam would know if he was just having a case of cold feet or if it was something worse. And since Liam and Elsa had only done the mating ceremony when they'd bonded, he'd be able to offer some insight on if this was possibly some side effect of the human ceremony.

He hoped.

He wanted this. He wanted Emma, wanted a life together, for good or ill, he just… He worried that there were too many things left unsaid between them before they took such a step. Particularly after their altercation last week - it hadn't escaped his notice, drunk or not, that they hadn't reached any understanding in their difference in opinion. And yes, that had been mostly his fault, driven to distraction by the alcohol and how arousing she was when she was angry, putting everything else aside to fuck her and forget that they were at odds with each other.

But she hadn't put forward the option to discuss it either.

Was this a sign? Or was this just a normal relationship bump?

Voices drifted up from downstairs - he recognized Liam immediately, scolding Anna's twins for running in wet shoes on the hardwood floors. Moving gently, Killian extracted himself from Emma's embrace, soothing her with a kiss to her brow when she grumbled. "Liam's here, darling, I'm going to see him. Rest."

She mumbled, relaxing into the pillows; he draped the blanket from the foot of the bed over her and left quietly, taking the stairs two at a time as the voices grew louder. As he came around the bend, a cheer went up. "There's the man of the hour!"

Liam enveloped him in a hug, slapping him on the back this time - "Don't grumble at me, old man, you're surely back on your feet now." - and then Killian went for the more gentle embrace of his sister-in-law, Elsa. "Hello, Killian."

"Elsa, glad you made it."

"UNCLE KILLIAN!"

He faked a gasp of pain as the twins, Harper and Sidney, crashed into his legs, each hugging around the knee and giggling. "I didn't know you were raising were-rhinoceroses, Anna," Killian said, and with great exaggeration lifted his legs high to walk over to hug her as well.

Anna looked exhausted and harried. He didn't envy her, having to keep up with a pair of four-year olds across two continents, even with three other adults to help out. "Pups have energy," she said, reaching down to pry the girls away. They whined and only clung to his legs harder. "Too much energy."

"Can we play in the snow now?" Harper asked.

Anna tugged on their arms. "Let go of Uncle Killian and we'll talk about it."

"Pleeeeeease, Mummy?" Sidney added.

"I said let go of your uncle." Anna's tone brokered no arguments.

With dramatic sighs, both girls listened and released him. Kristoff came over and took the twins in hand. "If we can get everything to our room in one piece, I'll take you out into the snow. Hi Killian."

"YAY!"

"Hey Kristoff."

Anna blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Where's Emma? We've been dying to meet her!"

"She's having a bit of a lie down, we got an early start today."

The concierge reappeared with room keys and there was more noise and a whirlwind of activity as everything was moved upstairs and the twins kept up a running commentary of everything they were planning on doing in the snow over the next few hours - Kristoff started to remind them about the rehearsal later, but gave up after they went into excruciating detail about what kind of snow fort they wanted to build. During the battle to put on proper snow clothes, Killian managed to lure Liam away to talk privately.

As the door shut behind them to the bachelor's suite, Liam sighed as the noise faded away. "I love them dearly, but my nieces are bloody exhausting."

Killian chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can see that. Like that the whole trip, were they?"

"Not at first." Spotting a bottle of brandy on the dresser, Killian decided he needed some liquid courage; Liam sounded like he needed a drink after a long day of travel anyway. "They were fine in London, but about halfway across the Atlantic things got restless. I don't blame them, it's a long bloody flight, but I can only answer so many questions about going backwards in time before I need to Google something and I wasn't about to fork over a few quid for the pleasure."

Killian handed over a tumbler of brandy and they tapped the rims together before taking a sip. Liam makes a noise of content at the taste, then sets his glass aside. "So. My little brother is finally mating."

"Younger."

"Is it the end of bachelordom that's got you all worked up in knots?"

He winced; try as he might, Liam knows him better than anyone and there's no disguising the fear-scent from the man who once helped change his soaked bedsheets after nightmares. "Not exactly…"

Liam leaned back against the door and folded his arms, waiting for Killian to find the words. "I love her," he said finally. "I love her more than anything. I just… we've had arguments, we've had disagreements, and there are things I've never told her, just as I'm sure there are things she's never told me."

"Such as?"

"I never told her about our father."

Liam's eyebrow raises. "Well, considering the state he left us in, I don't imagine it's a topic you'd care to revisit often. Has she asked?"

"No, but there were moments during the wedding planning where we chose things for the memories of our parents. She probed the subject of Father but I never… I couldn't. She didn't pry," Killian said, taking another sip of brandy. "And last week, we found more information regarding the incident in October. We found ourselves… at odds, over how to handle the situation." Liam looked at him expectantly and Killian grimaced. "Alright, we fought. We were both angry and got drunk and fought some more and… set it aside in favor of more interesting activities."

"Not quite a hate fuck, but not make-up sex either."

"Liam."

He held up his hands in acquiesce. "Do you know when I told Elsa about Father? About how Mum died?" he asked, swirling the brandy around. "We were mated a year before I got the guts to tell her. Around the time she was thinking of starting her own brewery."

"How angry was she?"

"Considering we were still paying off the end of Father's debts when she and I mated, I think I got off easy. She didn't speak to me for a month, went to stay with Anna. It was right after the pups were born, so she told everyone it was to help out."

Killian had a vague memory of that; it would have been after he and Liam had been outcast from their old pack, so his faulty memory could be pinned to some of the hard drinking and self-loathing he'd dunked himself in for a few years after losing Milah and his hand. There wasn't a lot about that time he could clearly remember, not until Liam had given him an ultimatum to sober up and pull his own weight. "So you're telling me I shouldn't do that."

Liam reached over and cuffed him on the ear. "Insolent pup. Tell her sooner before later, but don't make the mistake I did. It's the worst feeling in the world, knowing your mate is near but being unable - being forbidden - to see or touch her. Being rejected. We're not made for loneliness, we're made for Pack, and it nearly drove me insane to be forced out by her."

Killian thought about the allusions Emma had made to what it was like when a mate-bond was broken, the distant look she'd get in her eyes and the shadow of pain that would cross her face.

He never wanted to cause her that kind of pain, never wanted to experience it for himself.

"As for the other," Liam continued with a small shrug, "everyone has disagreements and fights. It's never a knock-down brawl, but Elsa and I have gotten into a shouting match a time or two. It doesn't mean you're mismatched, it doesn't mean your partnership is doomed to fail. It means you're human - or at least partly human, and sometimes you just don't agree. It's alright, Killian."

He worried on his lower lip, mulling that over. "That gossip you told us about, the anti-human talk. We're pretty sure Regina's behind it here. It hurt Emma when I said I wasn't opposed to some of the revenge ideas being tossed around - that's what we fought about. She thought I as good as agreed with the alpha who killed her parents."

Liam was silent for a long moment. Killian fidgeted with his glass. "Do you?" he asked finally.

"Do I what?"

"Agree with the alpha."

Killian bristled a little, but drank the rest of the brandy to keep from snapping out a retort. "I don't agree with her little gentrification ideas, but I don't disagree with the notion of payback for what that hunter did to me. I think I've earned that right."

Liam chewed on his lower lip, staring at him intently. Killian met his gaze squarely. Finally, he, too, downed the rest of his drink. "Are you planning on carrying out that revenge? Against a nameless, faceless hunter?" Killian opened his mouth - and then deflated as he realized Liam was right.

He had no idea who shot him and digging around for anyone who might know would definitely get him in trouble with the pack elders who had already said to let the matter rest. Liam rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've earned the right to be angry about what happened, Killian. I just don't want you to lose everything you hold dear for one moment of personal satisfaction."

"I don't… I don't want anyone else to get hurt," Killian said, understanding some of his own anger and pain even as he voiced it. "He hurt me, and I don't know what state Emma would have been in had it been fatal. I don't want to think of it. I don't want to give that man another chance at me, another chance to hurt Emma, or hurt anyone else."

Liam made a noise like he was about to say something else, but then just sighed and pulled Killian in for a hug. "That's why we run in packs, brother," he said as Killian embraced him. "So we can protect each other."

He cradled his arm to his chest, tired of sniveling and crying like a child, but everything - everything - hurt too much and he had no other outlet that wasn't screaming his head off and that was slightly less socially appropriate. Liam crouched down next to him, seemingly unaffected by the stares of those who couldn't mind their own business at a man without one of his hands and too many emotions to keep to himself. "Come on, Killian, let's go home."

"We haven't got a home. We're cast out and it's my fault and-"

"Killian. As long as we've got each other, we'll always have a home. We're brothers. We don't need anyone else. We can protect each other, form our own pack. Come on."

The rehearsal went about as smoothly as such a thing could go, stopping every three minutes to explain what would happen next and then moving everyone into position for the next bit. The twins, not needed after their sprint down the aisle was redone several times in an attempt to slow it to at least a light jog, were whisked away by Anna and Kristoff to try and exhaust before bed so they could get enough sleep for the next day. Liam and Ruby also got to know one another quite well as the venue's coordinator made them practice their walk over and over again, with Elsa and Dorothy providing "helpful" commentary from the sidelines. Killian grew quite bored as he was only required to stand at the front during all of this, wondering when Emma's uncle James would lose his patience with the coordinator as she told them for the third time to go back to the doors and try again.

It was a relief to get to the dinner portion, to relax and chat with their families, give their small bridal party the gifts they'd found: Liam and James received cufflinks shaped like wolf heads, Ruby and the twins were each given a moonstone pendant with matching earrings. Toasts were made, embarrassing speeches were given, and it warmed Killian to his core to see the rest of his family so open and welcoming to Emma.

Ascending the stairs for bed, however, was probably the hardest thing he'd ever do in his life. Knowing they'd have to part ways at the top, Emma held his hand tight as they took the stairs slowly, chatting idly about nothing important. At the top, she pulled him flush against her, changing her grip from his shirt collar to his hair as she kissed him, her tongue slipping between his lips and her scent overpowering his other senses. His arms went around her waist, giving as good as he got, the soft moans and mewls he elicited from her music to his ears. "Don't use that other room," she murmured against his lips.

"Emma…"

"I know, I just… don't want to sleep without you."

Her grip in his hair eased and he rested his forehead against hers. "I don't relish the thought either, love, but we've talked about this. Extensively. Earlier today, even."

Her sigh mixed with a whine that triggered a reaction from his body. Killian shifted away a little as his cock stirred, making her giggle. "Come back in the room with me and I'll make it worth your while," she said, her tone dropping to something much more sultry.

He groaned, dropping his head to the crook of her neck. "You'll be the death of me, darling," he said. As a little bit of payback, he ran his tongue in a sloppy circle around the spot he'd mark her tomorrow night when he claimed her as his. Her arousal hit his nose and he thought perhaps this 'payback' may have backfired slightly. "I'm taking a raincheck on that for tomorrow."

As Killian lifted his head to meet her eyes, she looked at him with an indulgent smirk. "Your wife on her knees in front of you?"

"As opposed to my fiancée on her knees in front of me?"

"Touché."

He patted her arse and she squeaked. "Go, before the last of my will crumbles and they'll never drag us out of that room for tomorrow."

Emma glanced back over her shoulder as they parted, reluctantly, for their own rooms. It's only for one night, he told himself, smiling at her as he unlocked the bachelor's suite. "I love you," she said, her hand on the doorknob for the honeymoon suite.

"I love you too."

He leaned against the door once he'd closed it behind him, scrubbing his hand across his face. Every instinct told him to open the door, stalk down the hall, and join her in the other room, stupid human traditions be damned, but he was stronger than his instincts and would get through this.

So he thought.

Just getting ready for bed told him how used to having Emma at his side he was: he was reaching for her toothbrush before he caught himself - a habit now, to put the toothpaste on both of their brushes - and he draped a hand towel on the marble counter for her to use after she washed her face. All things she would be doing in her own suite, without him, and his heart panged at the realization even as he wondered how much water she was dripping on the floor when she inevitably forgot to grab a towel.

And laying in the bed itself? It smelled like laundry detergent and the very faint remaining scents of those who'd lain here before, all of them laying awake and wondering after their brides-to-be, just as he did. Nothing of the sheets or covers smelled like her and it was astonishing how tense he felt just because he lacked something he'd grown to take almost for granted would always be there.

This was bollocks.

He gradually kicked all of the covers off, the bed too hot after all his tossing and turning and punching the pillows into a much more comfortable shape, but it was no use. This was worse than when he'd been living in the hotel last summer; at least then he'd known they were apart for a good reason - well, work being a generally agreed upon reason, if not actually good. This was actual agony, knowing she was so close and something so trivial keeping them apart -

Hell and damnation.

This was all his idea but it was practically killing him. The most idiotic idea he'd ever come up with and now he was beholden to it, especially after he'd pushed her not once, but twice today to stick with it when she'd wanted to do away with it. Growling to himself, Killian swung his feet to the floor and got up, quietly shuffling to the door and going into the hall. The mansion was quiet, everyone else doing the sensible thing and sleeping. He crept down the hall until he reached the door of the honeymoon suite, knocking softly. "Emma?"

"Killian?"

He heard footsteps, and the wood creaked under the door, signaling she was on the other side. "I can't sleep," he said, keeping his voice down.

"Me neither," she admitted, her voice just as quiet. "Are you…"

"Missing you, not nervous," he assured her. "Well… not wholly nervous. It's just a human ceremony."

She chuckled. "Yeah. But then there's the whole other thing later…"

He smiled, resting his forehead against the door. There was a slight vibration against the door and he imagined she was doing the same on the other side, only this flimsy bit of wood separating them. How easily he could break it… nothing separating them…

His conversation with Liam came back to him, the possibility of Emma reacting like Elsa had and rejecting him looming above him. "Emma?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I… I want to tell you something. Before tomorrow." He heard her inhale sharply and hastened to add, "Nothing that affects us. It's - it's about my father. About why I didn't want anything honoring him at our wedding."

"Now?" Emma asks and he can almost see the incredulous look on her face.

"It's been complicated, love. I needed Liam to set me straight on some things before I found the courage to explain."

She didn't respond and he sighed, turning and sliding down the wall to sit against the door frame. "My father wasn't a good man. I didn't know this, but when I was a child he got in bed with one of the bigger crime families in London. We… our kind is useful as muscle, you know that. They hired out a lot of our pack, Gold had a deal with them."

"The same Gold that-?"

He nodded, even though she couldn't see. "The same. Far as I know, he's still the alpha, old bastard's been around for decades. Father got in on a tip from Gold, got steady work for a while. Which was good - I knew we weren't well-off, but not until I was older did I really know how bad it was. But then he ran into trouble. Cheated his way out of deals, skimmed the top off of payments. Gambling. Drinking. All on the mob's dime, until they pulled the plug on him and stuck him with the bill. Us with the bill."

Rustling cloth and the slight scrape against wood told him she was taking a seat as well. He talked quietly, explaining things he'd only really come to understand much later: his father dying unexpectedly (they still weren't sure if he'd paid some of his debts in blood or if he'd taken his own life), his mother working herself to an early grave, Liam making deals to keep the wolves from the door - metaphorical wolves, though a few werewolves from other packs wouldn't have bat an eye at punishing sons for the sins of their father.

Between explaining the state his father had left things in and his mum's death, Emma opened the door enough to slip her hand through, taking his own in hers and squeezing. She squeezed particularly hard when he named the amount of debt that had only been paid off in the last several years, but she didn't ask how they'd done it. She only asked, "Is that the end of it? The books are clean, everything's paid up, no one's going to come knocking at our door at three in the morning asking for a favor?"

Killian nodded. "Aye. Accounts are clean, no loose threads. And the years since have all been working to clear up our name. Everyone coming tomorrow - today - knows where we're from, what we overcame to get to this point. And I just… wanted you to know, before everything, why I only wanted roses for Mum."

"Okay." She squeezed his hand as she said it and a weight lifted from his chest. "I'm not thrilled you waited this long to tell me, but I get it. And I am glad you told me."

"Uncle Killian?" He froze. Shit. "I had a bad dream."

He looked up and saw Harper toddling towards him, rubbing her eyes. "I'm sorry, Harper. Did you hear us talking?"

"Yuh-huh."

"So much for a quiet midnight rendezvous," Emma murmured.

"C'mere." Harper all but collapsed into his lap, laying her head against his chest and tucking her thumb in her mouth. He wondered if he should get her to stop, not knowing if Anna wanted to wean her of the habit, but decided to let it be. "It's all right. Why didn't you go to your mama and papa?"

"They're sleeping." So going to the adults who were awake was the most logical step. "Why are you on the floor?"

"Yes, Killian, why are you on the floor?" Emma asked, amusement in her voice.

"Floor's better than standing," he said, putting his arm around Harper.

"Why aren't you inside with Emma? Isn't she your mate?"

They were getting to the twenty questions part of the night, it seemed. He only hoped she'd fall asleep before he needed to look anything up. "Not yet. We're doing… a human tradition. It's a little silly, but it means that the first time I see her tomorrow, she'll be all dressed up and pretty."

"She's already pretty."

"Aw, thank you, Harper," Emma said.

"So it's a surprise." Harper wriggled, getting more comfortable, and Killian winced as she jammed her heels and knees into sensitive spots. "Like when Daddy brings home flowers and Mummy tells him 'oh you shouldn't have!'"

"Yes, just like that," Killian said. "Now, you know it's very late - why don't you try to sleep, little one, and I'll tuck you in before I go back to my room? We'll stay here with you until you do, make sure no more bad dreams come."

"'Kay."

Emma's thumb rubbed against his in slow circles. They're quiet for the time being, letting Harper fall back asleep; Killian looked down when he felt her go limp against his chest and her hand fell away from her mouth, smiling slightly. "She's asleep," he whispered.

"They're cute," Emma whispered. "But I don't know how Anna and Kristoff keep up with them."

"Maybe there's some kind of superpower that you get when you become parents," he said, though he recalled how tired they - and Liam and Elsa - looked earlier in the evening. "Or maybe they just have a lot of playdates with the other pups their age so everyone gets worn out at once."

Emma hummed in amusement. "Let's wait a little bit longer before we find out for ourselves."

"Agreed," he said, squeezing her hand. He did want pups, eventually, and he thought that, despite losing her first litter so traumatically, she did as well, but he was more than content to have her all to himself for a while.

Harper made a noise and they fell silent again, listening to the mansion settling around them. Killian's eyelids felt heavy, but he didn't want to close them; if he did, he'd fall asleep in the hallway and then he'd never get Harper back to bed and in the morning Anna and Kristoff would be frantic wondering where their daughter was. But he didn't want to leave Emma just yet, so maybe if he closed them for just a moment...

"Killian."

His neck hurt. His neck hurt and he was sitting up and someone was shaking him. "Killian, come on, you need to get ready."

"Daddy."

"Come here, princess, you can tell me why you were out here with Uncle Killian while you get a bath."

"Nooooo."

Killian opened his eyes to a sea of people surrounding him; that might be a slight exaggeration, but his brother and sister-in-law were definitely there, as well as the photographer, Kristoff, Ruby, and a team of women he could only presume were there to manhandle Emma into hair and makeup.

Emma.

He remembered closing his eyes, not wanting to leave her just yet, and he must have fallen asleep before he could take Harper back and go to bed himself. "Damn, what time is it?" he asked, stretching and trying to get his spine in some sort of working shape.

"Just after eight," Liam said, offering his hand. Killian took it and Liam hauled him to his feet. "Come on, there's breakfast in your room; you'll feel better once you've eaten and showered."

Liam was right - the shower eased the aches he felt from spending the night on the floor with a four-year old on his lap and his arm twisted enough to hold Emma's hand - but the interrogation that accompanied breakfast about why they'd found him on the floor outside of Emma's room didn't improve his mood in the least. "At least you told her," Liam said when Killian had answered every question to his satisfaction. They were getting dressed now, following the strict orders of the organizer who'd rapped on the door and told them the photographer would be stopping by. "And she's not calling the whole thing off."

Killian only glared at Liam's reflection in the mirror, but chose not to reply. He hadn't quite realized how many parts went into his attire for the day and realized with another pang how Emma had quietly infiltrated this part of his life as well - she seemed to sense when there would be any difficulties with his disability and moved in before he ever realized there might be an issue. Now he had one cuff done and set with the wolf's head cufflink and the other hanging uselessly around his wrist, and his bowtie hanging limp around his neck. "If you wouldn't mind shutting your gob and being a useful best man, brother-"

"Ah, right."

The photographer did indeed stop by, snapping photos of Liam tying his bowtie and setting the boutonniere - roses for their mother, as promised - and getting them to do some 'candid' shots to fill the time before they needed to head downstairs. "How's Emma doing?" Killian asked as they trooped down the stairs.

"She's growling at everyone sticking her with hairpins and insisting she can do it herself, or at least that's what she was doing when I was in there," the photographer said.

Killian smiled and Liam clapped him on the shoulder.

The downstairs has been transformed with fairy lights - not real fairies or bewitchment, which would have cost extra and Emma had put her foot down on that when non-magical lights would do the trick - and red berry branches frosted with white glitter. The altar's backdrop was a stunning view of the snowy scene outside; the whole thing would be rearranged after the ceremony for dinner, while the guests enjoyed cocktails and the wedding party had more photos done.

It looked like a winter wonderland and he wished he could see Emma's reaction when she saw it.

"Are you sure it's not too…" Emma paused, unsure how to phrase it. She chewed her lower lip, looking over the ideas jotted down. "Girly?" she finally asked.

She could almost feel the exasperation rolling off of him. "Love, it's a seasonal theme."

"Yeah, but it's not like, covered in flannel or antlers everywhere or-"

"Emma. I don't bloody care about making it manly or girly or what have you. Is this what you want?" She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. The way he prioritized her wants and desires before his own was still so foreign to her and she just didn't want to push him on something he didn't want. Then, as if he read her mind, Killian added, "If I truly didn't like it, I would say so. Just as long as you're the one wearing the dress and I'm wearing the trousers, it's fine."

She glanced up at him, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Darn, I was hoping we could switch on that one."

She laughed as he growled and slung an arm around her neck, proceeding to mess up her hair.

And quite suddenly, Killian was alone at the front of the room, looking out across the dozens of people in attendance as Liam escorted Ruby down the aisle. The twins, dressed in their little fur-lined capes and hoods over their white dresses, had apparently received another briefing on how not to run down the aisle, because this time they managed it only by attempting to walk with one foot placed precisely in front of the other, heel to toe, and garnered a lot of 'aww's from the congregation.

When they finally reached the end of the aisle, rose petals scattered in their wake, the music changed and everyone stood, completely blocking his view of the back of the room - the intent to hide Emma until the very last moment-

His heart must have stopped at some point, or he'd passed on from the sheer boredom of waiting for the ceremony to start. An angel appeared at the end of the aisle, practically glowing in white and draped in a furred wrap - he realized it matched Emma's pelt almost exactly and wondered how she'd managed to arrange that. Her hair, pulled away from her face, cascaded down her back in gentle curls underneath the veil, and a silver tiara dotted with small roses rested on her head. He couldn't see much detail in the bodice of her gown, covered as it was with her wrap, but the skirt flared out at the waist to drape elegantly to the floor, something sparkly sewn into the organza winking at him in the light with every step she took.

She was breathtaking.

James leaned over and murmured something he couldn't make out over all the other ambient noise, but whatever he said caused Emma's smile to widen, and Killian's insides melted all over again at the look of pure joy on her face. When they reached the end of the aisle, James paused and kissed Emma on the forehead. "Your parents would be proud of you," Killian heard him say quietly.

Killian stepped forward and offered his arm as Emma discretely swiped at the corners of her eyes. "You look absolutely stunning, love," he murmured, leaning in to give her some cover.

"And now I'm ruining my makeup," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. "Dammit, I told him not to make me cry. He was threatening to all morning."

He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her, letting her dab at her tears before they joined the officiant. He never quite knew how to take her uncle, not when he'd shown more than once that he had the bite to back up his bark. Neither he nor his choice in mate seemed to lean heavily on the sympathetic or emotional side of things, though he supposed there had to be some kind of familial loyalty for them to take in their orphaned niece. But they were pack, and bound by blood to one another, and the occasion of one's life-bonding to another could be as good a time as any to prove that the care and protection they'd provided to her went much further than a sense of familial duty.

Clutching his handkerchief just behind her bouquet, Emma nodded and they stepped forward, allowing the patient officiant to begin.

He barely heard the speech, so mesmerised as he was by the soft, happy glow she seemed to radiate. The congregation chuckled when the officiant said his name a few times to get his attention in order to recite his vows.

This had been another long source of debate between them, whether or not to write their own vows. He'd been on the side of writing their own, while she'd been fine with something more traditional. In the end, they'd agreed to write their own - he suspected she relented because they'd gone with so many of her desires for the design of the wedding, but she'd never admit it - and even now, when it wasn't her turn, he saw her starting to flush from anticipation at such a show of vulnerability.

"Emma, I'm not someone who believes in fate or destiny, but I may have to bend that belief when it comes to you. Though we hardly spoke that first meeting, something must have compelled us to meet again, and through that I am forever grateful to have found someone who completes me as much as you do. Every day with you is a joy, even when we argue or we don't see each other because we're on opposite shifts. You have changed my life, irrevocably, and I can never repay you for that. But for a start, I vow to honor and love and cherish you, to show you every kindness you deserve, and to always stand by your side, from this day for the rest of our lives."

As he spoke, he took the simple platinum band with a line of diamonds from Liam and slid it onto her ring finger, then slid her mother's ring on after. Emma reached up and dabbed at his cheek with his handkerchief; startled, he gave her a questioning look before touching his cheek and realizing it was wet. As there were still tears in her eyes, he could give himself a pass for being so emotional in the moment, and took a breath to try and calm down.

She smiled, and took his ring, a match to hers with only a single small diamond for decoration, then took a shaky breath.

"Killian, I'm not as good at flowery speeches or putting emotions to word as you." She paused, letting everyone chuckle at that, himself included. "But I wanted to try to put everything into words, because sometimes I forget how similar we are, that you and I need to hear the words of validation and love and support, even when you do that infuriating thing where you seem to read my mind and give me that smile like you just got lucky and guessed what I was thinking. So I vow to try harder on that, so you don't have to pretend to get lucky any more, but more importantly I vow to show you how much I love you in any way that I can, even when I can't put it into words. And I vow to honor and cherish you, and boss you around in sickness but compromise in health, from this day on."

Everyone who knew about Emma's treatment of him after the accident laughed at that as she slid his ring on. He twiddled his fingers a little, the unfamiliar pressure of the ring fading as he grew accustomed, and they joined hands again as the officiant stated, "By the laws that govern man and wolf, it is with great joy that I declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride."

Killian thought his face might break from grinning as everyone started to clap; he only winced slightly when he heard Alice's distinct, piercing whistle (the other wolves in the crowd chastised her for that), then proceeded to sweep Emma back in a dip before kissing her. She squeaked in surprise, gripping the collar of his jacket, and smacked him on the arm when he brought her back up. "You're ridiculous," she told him.

"But now you're stuck with me," he observed as Ruby handed back her bouquet.

Emma tucked herself against him as she slid her arm through his. "I am."

The afternoon wore on into the evening as photos were taken, speeches were made, food was eaten, and everyone exhausted themselves with dancing. At last count, at least thirty-seven people had tapped their glasses to make Killian kiss his wife - his wife - and they'd managed to eat an entire plate of food between them before running around and greeting everyone and shoving cake into each other's faces. Even Killian couldn't remember all of the people he'd introduced Emma to and vice versa; it was enough to just remember that if he didn't recognize them then they were likely acquaintances of Emma's family.

Finally, as people gradually started to leave, Emma caught his eye and took his hand. He thought that, as those at the center of attention for this particular party, they would be missed right away; but she slipped them both through a back door and around the areas of congregation to a side stair, sneaking upstairs and locking themselves in their room before anyone could stop them. "Oh thank God, I just want out of these shoes," Emma said, leaning against the door with closed eyes and a satisfied sigh.

She kicked off her heels and he watched with amusement as she shrank in height. A log in the fire popped and Emma's eyes opened, then widened as she took in the room.

He'd made arrangements with the staff to have a fire started while they were out; additionally, an ice bucket with a bottle of wine sat on the dresser next to two glasses, and white candles flickered around the room, bathing everything in a soft glow. There were even rose petals scattered on the quilt and Emma's hand went to her mouth when she spotted them. "Killian, this is too much -"

He stepped towards her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "It's hardly anything at all, love. It's just a little nightcap on top of the evening - we should pull out all the stops, when are we going to get married again?"

He took her hand and she allowed him to pull her over to the dresser. "Still…"

Happily, someone had already opened the wine and left the cork in at an easy to remove angle; Killian popped it out and poured them each a glass. "Still nothing," he said, handing hers over and taking up his own. "Let's make every moment of today something to remember. To us, Mrs. Jones."

He held out his glass to tap against hers and they both drank. "So," Emma said, swirling her wine around in her glass. "Shall we… get into something a little more comfortable?"

"By all means."

This should be the 'ripping each other's clothes off' portion of the evening, but if she felt as weary as he did then he didn't blame either of them for slowly undoing buttons and untying knots. He watched her reflection in the mirror as she pulled the pins from her hair and untangled the tiara and veil from their precarious perches. She left her shawl draped over the back of a chair and glanced over her shoulder at him. "Help me with this?"

His mouth felt suddenly dry, the coquettish way she lowered her lashes making his heart race. Standing close behind, Killian lowered his lips to her shoulder, pressing featherlight kisses along her skin up to her neck as he popped each button open. She let her head fall to the side, giving him better access, and she groaned when he scraped his teeth along the juncture of her neck. The scent of arousal flooded his nose and her dress slipped, the last button free; the heavy material pulled the bodice around her middle and he was delighted to note that she wasn't wearing a bra. "Sneaky wench," he murmured against her skin, then ran his tongue along the soft shell of her ear.

"Didn't feel necessary," she breathed, stepping away. "Give me a minute, and I'm all yours, I promise."

He backed off, nodding, and she hurried into the bathroom, hiking up her dress as she went. He picked up his wine glass for another sip, then went about undoing his suspenders and unbuttoning his shirt, letting it hang open for now. The water in the bathroom turned on and he heard her start to - presumably - wash her face, and smiled to himself. As beautiful as she looked when made up, he loved her completely bare and free; for one thing, he didn't particularly pride himself when wearing lipstick on his cock. For another, he preferred the way she smelled without all of the artificial nonsense that came with perfumes and makeup.

As he turned down the covers, scattering rose petals to the floor, he heard a delicate cough from behind him. Turning, the vision before him made him feel as if all the wind had been knocked from him.

Emma, leaning against the doorframe in such a way that highlighted the curves of her breasts and hips, wearing naught but lace panties and garters to hold up the silky stockings.

"Bloody hell…"

"I thought about getting something slinky," she said, pushing off the doorframe and walking towards him. Good God, he'd seen her in everything and nothing at all but she still managed to make his cock swell with every surprise. "You know, white silk teddy, really go for the whole virginal bride thing." She paused right in front of him, her fingers slowly dancing up his chest and giving him gooseflesh. "But then I figured, there's nothing virginal about me, and you'd only rip it up anyway, so save myself some money and go with what I've been wearing all day."

He swallowed hard and his cock throbbed. "You've been wearing that all day?"

"Mmmhm."

There was a sly smile on her lips - lips that were a hair's width from his own, tempting and plump and still stained red from her lipstick. He surged forward, catching them with his own, moving against her mouth with the sort of desperate urgency he's come to associate only with her. She pushed the shirt from his shoulders and it landed somewhere on the floor behind him as her hands moved to his waistband and pulled. Ever the clever multitasker, Emma walked them backwards, towards the crackling fireplace and the fur rug laid out before it, and eagerly welcomed his kisses as she unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers. He stumbled slightly and she caught him, giggling against him as he hastily shoved his trousers and underwear down, leaving them strewn in their wake.

He took advantage of his hunched position and gripped her hips and nuzzled her covered core. He inhaled, feeling the rush of adrenaline as the wolf in him rose closer to the surface with the need to bite claim take. Her hands in his hair - her touch gentle and soothing despite the racing thrum of her heartbeat in his ears - calmed him only slightly and his tongue flicked out, licking a stripe up the thin cloth hiding her from him.

The fresh wave of arousal hit his nose before her gasp reached his ears.

"While I very much appreciate these," he murmured, fingering the strap of a garter, "and I would dearly love to revisit them in the very near future, you're hiding something from me."

His fingers hooked under her waistband and he swiftly pulled them down, helping her step out of her stockings; these were all tossed unceremoniously to the side as he sank to his knees, gently urging one of her legs up and over his shoulder and granting him access to the sweetness of her sex. "Good girl," he whispered, absently noting that she had goosebumps on her thighs, "let me have a taste…"

Killian parted her folds with his fingers, leaning in to run his tongue along her slick seam. Her grip on his hair tightened and his skin tingled - fuck he loved her pulling his hair. He drank her in like a man dying of thirst: laying the flat of his tongue across the length of her and thrusting across her clit, tracing nonsense patterns over every sensitive spot he could remember, trading fingers for tongue in her dripping entrance. Every sound elicited was a treasure, the moans, whimpers and stilted cries music to his ears - and he even enjoyed the little rebukes she gave him, knowing there were keen ears throughout the building around them and not caring one whit.

He was a man claiming his wife, his mate, and he didn't give a damn who was nosy enough to hear it.

She cursed him when he retreated, leaving her thrumming and on edge, but he had other plans. He laid her down on the rug, the heat from the fire licking along his skin. Her legs fell open, leaving all of her spread and bare for him, glistening in the light. Her scent washed over him anew and he couldn't tell which pounding heartbeat belonged to whom and he swore he'd never been so aroused in his entire life as he was in this moment. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching him with clear expectation on her face. Moving so that he was kneeling before her, he hitched one of her legs over his hip and dragged the head of his cock through her wet folds. Her head fell back as she moaned, her hips thrusting up slightly to try and catch him inside of her. His eyes fell to the juncture of her neck.

Soon.

"Right now?" he asked, repeating the motion with his cock. She bit her lip this time and he couldn't help but grin. "Are you certain?"

"Killian, if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to God-"

He surged forward, sheathing himself in her in one movement and she gasped. He swallowed hard, hardly giving her a chance to adjust to the sudden intrusion before he began to move. Her core felt hot and tight, gripping his cock as he slowly fucked into her and his instincts clamored to take over.

Bite. Claim. Take.

Mine.

A snarl escaped, his grip on his control gone, and he surged forward again, knocking Emma flat on her back as he picked up the pace. She let out a small cry of surprise, but even so her hands flew up to his back, her nails digging in as she, too, gave in to her baser instincts.

He pounded into her, reveling in the feel of her writhing under him and the pleasure coursing through his veins; her nails scored down his back and he barely restrained a howl as she fought to roll them over but he wouldn't have it. She bit his shoulder, fighting against his weight keeping her under him, and he bit her lip in return, sucking it into his mouth with a sloppy kiss. Her pupils were blown from arousal and the almost feral pull of this ancient ceremony.

Did he look like that too? A wild, untamed thing with the moon in his eyes and the call of the Pack in his veins?

She pushed against him again even as she rutted up against him; he didn't quite expect a fight for dominance of their mating ritual, but he shouldn't have put it past her. The wolf in him had control, snarling every time she tried to push back and make him submit to her. Every snarl was met with another bite and another push, another attempt at a roll to place her on top of him and this addition to their ancient dance only made his blood run hotter. He couldn't ask for a better woman to be his mate, fiery and spirited, his equal or better in every way. The curling pleasure of his impending orgasm began to build and he gave in to her fight, letting her roll them over so she was splayed on top of him. The pause for shock, that he'd let her dominate him for even a moment in this, let him sit up, balancing her on his lap.

She seemed to understand without words, and looped one of her arms around his neck as he braced his arms on her hips as she continued to move. Her eyes fluttered closed as her free hand slipped between them, touching herself and brushing against the base of his cock as she hurried along her own pleasure. He was close, the need to spill into her and mark her as his, but they needed to do this together.

He dipped his head down and took a nipple into his mouth, her other breast brushing softly against his cheek as she continued to rock. His name fell in a rough chant from her lips as he sucked and rolled her nipple around on his tongue. "I'm-"

"Ready?" he asked, his own voice harsh and almost foreign to his own ears.

He looked up and could only make out only a thin ring of green in her eyes. She nodded, an errant curl falling across her face, and he renewed his grip on her hips and sped up their movements.

As their pleasure peaked, the room was oddly silent. A man taking his wife for the first time, one might expect the walls to shake from their cries, for noise complaints. But any sounds they would have made were muffled, as he sank his teeth into the juncture of her neck and felt the sharp prick of her teeth puncturing his skin in return. The pain was brief and shifted almost instantly to pleasure, almost overwhelming as the ancient magic of the mate-bond took hold and wrapped itself in his orgasm. The bliss doubled, then tripled, and he felt disoriented for a moment, a hundred thoughts that weren't his own filling his mind and with a distinctly feminine touch that would have been familiar outside of this distracting haze of magic and feeling; he heard a distant wolf's call and the answer of the Pack as everything faded.

Killian didn't black out, but it was a close thing, his body pleasantly numbed as he withdrew from Emma. She, on the other hand, sank bonelessly against him, curling up against his chest as the pounding of their hearts quieted in his ears.

He glanced down to where he'd bitten her, taken her at last, and saw only the smallest pinpricks from his incisors marring her skin, already healed. Such a tiny thing to carry such weight, and he absently brought his hand up to touch the marks he now bore to match.

She jerked against him when he touched them, and a fresh sensation of arousal coursed through him - tired as he was, he shouldn't be nearly ready for another round yet, but just touching the mate-mark seemed to revive him a little. "Interesting..." he mused.

"Not interesting enough to test out right now, I hope," Emma mumbled. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

Killian chuckled, and managed to both get to his own feet and haul her up into his arms, bridal-style. "We'll test the limits of this another time, my love. Let's get you cleaned up and we'll have a well-deserved sleep."

She waved him off after he set her on the feet in the bathroom and he left her to her privacy, going to bank the fire instead. They traded places once she was done, and after he'd cleaned his teeth and wiped himself down, he returned to the bedroom to find her looking all to pleased and comfortable under the covers. "We're taking this bed home with us," Emma declared.

Sinking into it next to her, he decided it might not be a bad idea. "Or we could just inquire about where they got it and buy our own."

She grumbled, curling up into him and laying her head on his shoulder. "Stealing's more fun," she said and he had to laugh.

"I like our bed," he said.

"It's not as comfortable."

"No," he agreed, "but it's ours. It's where we came together for the first time. And it smells just right - it smells like you."

She scoffed, but a shift in her scent told him she was pleased. "Flatterer. I'm already your wife, no need to keep it up."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Nonsense. There's plenty more compliments to shower on you, and I'll take it as my husbandly duties to pay them out as I see fit."

"You're ridiculous."

"I am," Killian agreed, and kissed her again. He felt as drowsy as she smelled, sleep pulling at his bones, and the bed was comfortable. "Dream of me and all of my ridiculousness, mate."

[matrixaffiliate]

Patient

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Next chapter goes up on July 13th!

Let me know if you want to see this end with a Hinny engagement or with a Hinny wedding (the latter would include seeing Ginny plan her own wedding).

Chapter 5

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Ginny had no idea what she was signing up for when she asked Harry how she could help him in his learning to grieve. The last couple of months had been both amazing and excruciating. Harry had opened up to her in more ways than she could count. He went through every box of his parents' and godparents' things with her. It had taken weeks for him to tell her every story that went with every picture and every belonging. And most times a story would spark another memory that he'd kept locked away for so long and it would just start to pour out more and more of the life he had before it had been ripped from him. The immense sharing would come in waves before mellowing for a time and then come crashing down again.

Harry's mood was often off as he tried to ride this roller coaster. He never took the grief out on her, for which she was grateful, but it was painful to watch the man she loved suffer so much. That pain only increased when she realized that impatience and frustration were quickly starting to replace her sympathy. She wanted her boyfriend back. She wanted to feel like she could reach out to him for help without also worrying she was adding extra stress to him when he was already stretched as thin as cling wrap.

And she felt immensely selfish.

She had a wonderful life, and here she was complaining that she didn't have a perfect boyfriend. Ginny wanted to smack herself. What was wrong with her? Was she really so shallow that she was getting angry because Harry wasn't at her beck and call? She didn't want to be that girl. She wanted to be the woman who Harry could depend upon and rely on to hold him up and support him.

She just wasn't sure what would hold them up when she crumpled under the weight of the two of them.

But Ginny didn't have a whole lot of time to think about that inevitability because she had a wedding every nearly weekend of the summer and Vic's wedding, the most important one, was only two weeks away. So she buried herself in work and holding Harry upright and trying very hard not to feel her own emotions until she had time to process them all, whenever that would end up being.

It certainly wouldn't be tonight. After a full day of work, Ginny was meeting Harry and his old friend Neville and his wife Hannah for dinner at Harry's favorite Indian place. Ginny could feel her exhaustion in her bone marrow, but Harry had been really excited about this and Ginny couldn't bring herself to cancel on him last minute. He had enough problems without her adding to them by acting like a tired and spoiled child. Ginny pulled her hair up into a quick knot and headed out the door.

The restaurant was one Ginny loved, but she didn't love how far away from her it was. The drive was forty minutes without traffic, and getting there for dinner from her flat always took at least an hour. But it was close to Hannah's parents where the Longbottom's were visiting for a couple of days. Incidentally, it was also the same area that Ron and Hermione lived in. Ginny found that thought comforting, like some external force was looking out for her. That thought flitted away as soon as the traffic made it apparent that she would not be making it to dinner on time.

"Hey Gin," Harry's voice reverberated around her car through the speaker system.

"Hi love," Ginny bit her lip and hoped that she wasn't stressing him out, "I think I'm going to be late. This traffic is horrible."

"I think I am too; you're right, traffic is awful today," Harry chuckled, "I'll call Nev and let him know. Keep me posted and be safe."

Ginny let out a huge breath in relief, "Will do. I love you."

"Love you too, Gin." Harry disconnected the call and the radio took over Ginny's car speakers again.

The hour and fifteen-minute drive unfortunately only left Ginny with time to think, and since she couldn't be going through her wedding coordinating emails and files, her mind wandered right to how much she wanted her relationship to be normal. She had been panicked for the briefest moment when she realized that she needed to call Harry and tell him she would be late. That was ridiculous, especially given that he wasn't upset with her about it. He'd had handled it with a sense of humor. But she had worried all the same. Worried that she was going to stress him out. Worried that she'd somehow trigger him. That it would be her fault that he felt pain. And those feelings brought anger. Why couldn't he just be normal? Why did she have to love him so much that she was so against being the one to cause him pain? Why did she care? Why couldn't it be easier? And the anger was always followed by an overwhelming shame for her selfishness. And the cycle spun in her head like a top, tightening the emotions inside her like a guitar string, waiting to see if it would snap.

Somehow she kept control of herself, and pulled into the parking lot, finding a spot near Harry's car.

"Gin," Harry called out when Ginny stepped inside the little building. Ginny smiled and reminded herself that she loved this man - and that he hadn't been inside her head for the last hour and change. He had no idea things were hard right now, and she needed to keep it that way.

Harry met her halfway to the table with a kiss that managed to melt enough of her aggravation out that she could better hide the rest of it. The way he looked at her when he pulled away helped a bit too.

It was gone far too soon as he turned her toward their table and introduced her to his friends. "Gin, this is Neville and Hannah Longbottom. Nev, Hannah, this is my girlfriend, Ginny Weasley."

"It's great to finally meet you, Ginny," Neville shook her hand. "I've heard nothing but amazing things."

Ginny looked up around, "Are you sure you're at the right table?"

Harry pinched her side and she jumped closer to him.

"Oi, I have very good taste," He gave an indignant huff.

"That's obvious," Hannah smiled at Ginny. "But Harry tells us you're a wedding coordinator and I want to hear all about that."

Ginny regaled them with stories of the weddings she'd planned over the last nearly ten months of working with Wedding Composition. She told them of the most expensive wedding she'd coordinated where the dress alone was equivalent to six months of Ginny's rent payment, and the venue was more than the down payment Harry was putting on his parent's home to buy it back. She told them of the Highland themed wedding up in Scotland with kilts and bagpipes. Hannah loved hearing about the different religious ceremonies Ginny had needed to work around as well. From Jewish to Catholic to Latter Day Saints to Wiccan to a Hindu ceremony to combinations of religions in order to make everyone happy, Ginny was now rather fluent in the basics of marriage ceremonies in several different religions. 

"What about for your wedding?" Hannah asked. "What are you going to do for yours?"

Ginny felt her chest tighten and she avoided looking at Harry. Of course, she had thought that maybe, hopefully, she and Harry could have a future together. But she wasn't going to push him into it, and she honestly wasn't sure how to fit that into what their lives looked like right now. Maybe once Harry was feeling better, maybe when the wedding season slowed down, maybe when the stars aligned.

"I, I haven't really thought too much about what my wedding would look like." Ginny forced the smile to stay on her face, praying that she wouldn't trigger Harry.

"Really?" Neville's voice was soft and he had a small smile on his face. "In all the weddings you've planned, you've not thought about your own?"

Ginny had never wished harder for the power of telepathy. Neville was Harry's freaking shrink, why on earth was he pushing something so volatile right now?

Ginny was saved by the server setting down their food, and the conversation thankfully moved on from weddings and on to other, less volatile, topics.

And it was fun. Ginny had shown up exhausted, but as they continued talking she found her fatigue fading to the back of her mind. Neville and Harry ended up roasting each other with stories about growing up together. At first Ginny was nervous when Neville brought up one of his and Harry's shenanigans from childhood. But Harry laughed and added to the story before bringing up another memory. And for the rest of dinner and dessert, Ginny felt like they were going through another box from Harry's attic. The difference was that Harry didn't break down in the middle of any of the stories. He smiled. He laughed. And he was happy while reminiscing about the past. It gave Ginny just a sliver of hope that maybe he would be able to look back at the memories of his family with that same happiness too.

"This has been wonderful," Neville yawned, "but we're heading home tomorrow morning so I think we'll call it a night."

Ginny reached into her purse and pulled out her keys. "That's probably smart. I have a cake tasting tomorrow morning to be at."

Harry looked at her with an adorable pout, "You're working tomorrow? I thought you didn't have a wedding this weekend."

"I don't have a wedding this weekend, but tomorrow morning was the only time this couple could manage to be together for the tasting." Ginny kissed his cheek. "I'll be around after lunch."

Harry grinned and caught her lips before she could pull away completely. "Can I come over and play?"

"Harry!" Ginny laughed and shot an embarrassed glance over at Neville and Hannah.

"Just pretend we're not here," Hannah winked at her, standing when Neville offered her his hand.

Ginny followed suit and laughed when Harry caught her wrist, pulling her into him. "Please let your boyfriend walk you to your car."

"I suppose that I could do that," she smiled up at him, getting lost in his green eyes and the smile that had been painfully absent in the last little while.

"It was nice to meet you Ginny," Neville called out, Hannah's laughter harmonizing with his.

Ginny buried her face in Harry's chest for a moment before turning and waving goodbye.

"How early is your cake tasting?" Harry led her towards the door and their cars.

"It's not until ten, but I need to stop off at the office before that and check on a couple of things for Vic and Ted's wedding."

"Can I come by at lunch tomorrow then?" Harry ran his hand along her waist and kissed her exposed neck.

"If you don't stop I might crumble and just blow off all these weddings for you."

Harry laughed and Ginny loved the way it made her heart soar. It felt like old times, back when they first started dating.

"I won't tempt you too much then. Did you still want to be at the signing for my parents' home on Monday?"

Ginny slid her key into her door and nodded. "I've cleared my calendar for it. I want to make sure you give me one of the keys."

Harry ran a hand into his hair, "Maybe you could use it to bring some stuff over."

"Of course I'll help you move your stuff," Ginny leant between her car and the open drivers' door and looked up at Harry, the black sky mixing with the black of his hair. It would have been alluring if not for the fact that his brow was furrowed in the dim light as he looked down at her.

"Right, right, my things, right, thank you," he pushed his hand through his hair and pulled on it a moment. "I hope you know how much I appreciate how supportive you've been this last while. I don't know if I would have been able to do this without you."

Ginny pushed up and brought her lips to his, trying to pull the smile back to his face.

"I'll text you as soon as I'm home from the cake tasting."

Harry patted her cell phone in her back pocket and grinned against her lips, "I can't wait."

Ginny chuckled and pulled back to climb into her car. "I love you, Harry."

Harry brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I love you too, Gin."

It only took forty minutes to drive home, mostly because Ginny arrived home at half past eleven, and the exhaustion had completely set in at that point. She remembered that she needed to get the cake tasting appointment card out her purse, and almost chose to make it wait for morning, when she realized she didn't have her purse.

That was weird, normally she didn't forget her purse in the car. Sighing that she couldn't just fall into bed like she wanted to, Ginny trudged down to the car park and opened the passenger door to grab her purse.

Except it wasn't there.

Ginny's exhaustion seemed to evaporate instantly. She tore her car apart for almost five minutes before accepting that her purse was not in her car.

She must have left it at the restaurant.

Ginny ran upstairs to her flat where she had left her phone and called the restaurant.

"Yes, we did find a purse at that table, and it does match your description, ma'am." The hostess' voice was calm and friendly. "If you can make it back before we close at midnight then you can get it tonight, or you can come by tomorrow when we open at eleven and pick it up."

Ginny's heart stopped. She'd never make it. And she needed her business charge card for tomorrow, or even her own card, any card to be able to pay for the tasting.

"I, er I live too far away to pick it up tonight, but if I could maybe find someone I trust closer, could they come by and pick it up?"

"If you can tell me their name they offer identification then yes, I can let someone come get it for you."

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright, I'll call right back and let you know if I can have someone come pick it up for me." She just hoped Ron would pick up.

"Ginny?" Ron's voice was full of concern, and a little groggy. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine in that I'm not in any danger but I need to ask an enormous favor," Ginny held her breath for his response.

"Sure, sis, just give me a sec," Ron's answer was whispered now and she heard the shuffling of sheets.

"Alright," Ron yawned, "what's your huge favor that involved waking me up?"

"Sorry," Ginny had been hoping she wouldn't be waking him, but she knew better. Rose wore him and Hermione out. She'd make it up to him somehow. "I left my purse at that Indian restaurant Harry loves and if I can't get it picked up before they close in fifteen minutes then I won't be able to get it until eleven tomorrow and it has my wallet in it and I need the company card for tomorrow and,"

"I'm on it, Ginny, call them and tell them I'm coming."

"Thank you!" Ginny nearly cried. "I'll come to yours and get it from you. I have my keys, just leave it inside your front door and I'll use my key to grab it so you can go back to sleep. I'm so sorry and,"

"Don't be stupid, I'll bring it to you. And I'm hanging up before you can argue with me about it. Call them and tell them I'm coming."

Ginny started to argue, but true to his word, Ron disconnected the call.

Shoving aside her frustration, she called the restaurant, confirmed that Ron could pick up her purse for her and then fell onto her sofa to wait. Ten minutes later she got a text from Ron saying he picked up her purse and was heading her way.

Ginny then found herself in that awful position where the exhaustion was back but the adrenaline was still coursing through her, keeping her mind running full bore.

That turned out to be an awful situation.

It started with the frustration at forgetting her purse. That frustration quickly turned to frustration at Harry when she realized that she forgot it because he was distracting her. Nevermind the logical side of her brain that reminded her that she had loved him distracting her. The frustration at Harry quickly shifted to anger at how hard it was to support him through dealing with his grief. Especially when she needed him right now. This summer had been and would continue to be stressful and busy. But Harry needed her, it was obvious in how he'd asked to see her tomorrow - er, today - and how he'd asked for help moving his things without right out asking. And she needed to be there for him.

The weight of it all was crippling.

Ginny's emotions spun in her head as she waited for Ron to show up with her purse, twisting her up inside until she was barely holding back tears.

Ron thankfully showed up before she completely lost control.

"Everything alright?" Ron frowned at her when she opened the door.

"Oh, you know, just having a mental breakdown." Ginny shrugged, taking her purse from him.

Ron didn't even ask, he just shoved past her and into her flat. Ginny turned to see him rummaging through her cupboards.

"Does Hermione not feed you these days?"

Ron looked up in surprise, "You're upset. I'm making tea." He finally opened the cupboard that held her mugs and grinned in triumph. Then he began rummaging again looking for her tea bags.

"Ron," Ginny sighed, noticing he'd already turned on the kettle, and slumped into her chair.

"Sit," Ron focused on finding her tea and cried out with a loud "A-ha!" when he opened the drawer she kept it all in.

Harry had laughed when he'd figured out she kept her tea in a drawer probably meant for silverware, but Ginny insisted that the boxes fit perfectly in said drawer, so why would she bother with a cupboard?

Thinking about Harry pushed her back into the twisted mess of emotions that she'd spun, but Ginny forced it all back, trying to maintain control. She was gratefully and momentarily distracted when Ron set her mug in front of her.

"I hope you still take it like you did during university because it's all I remember for how you take your tea."

Ginny grinned at the over sugared and over milked drink. She wasn't going to tell Ron that she no longer took her tea this way, but it felt good to know that he had paid attention when they were both living at home and taking classes. To her surprise, the tea brought a wave of nostalgia, a longing for a simpler time in her life, when she wasn't having to function on such a high level. The undertow of that wave pulled her right back into the depths of the breakdown she'd been fighting, and this time she had no energy to fight it, and she let it pull her under.

"Let it out," Ron shoved his chair closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "You'll feel better after you cry."

And Ginny did let it out. She cried all the emotions out of her system. She let out the stress from wanting to make Vic's wedding perfect. She let out all the stress from worrying about Harry. And she let out the stress from feeling like her relationship had become incredibly one-sided, and the fear that it would always remain so. When the tears had finally run their course, Ginny sighed.

"I'm pathetic."

"None of that now," Ron stretched from his chair to reach the box of tissues by the sofa. "I won't sit here and listen to you shame yourself with lies."

Ginny gratefully took a tissue and tried to clean herself up. At least it was her brother that had found her in this state. He understood that Weasley's were ugly criers the lot of them.

"Listen, I know things are stressful with Vic's wedding but trust me," Ron squeezed her shoulders, "you're brilliant and it's going to be everything she's dreamed about and then you can get back to normal."

"Ron," Ginny choked, "it's, it isn't just the wedding."

Ron turned to look at her face. "What else is going on?"

Ginny slumped under his gaze and looked away. "I'm worried about my relationship."

Ron was quiet for a long moment before clearing his throat, "Er, in what way, exactly?"

"Everything feels very," Ginny shook her head, "one-sided right now. I'm killing myself to be there for him and I'm worried that I'll ask too much of him while he's processing nearly two decades worth of grief, so I'm giving everything and asking for nothing and I'm drowning in all of this."

Ron grinned at her and Ginny wanted to punch him. "I'm so happy you could find some joy in my misery, brother dearest. Why don't you give me a papercut and then pour lemon juice over it while you're at it?"

"I'm not laughing at you, Ginny." Ron pulled his tea to his lips and drank deeply. "I'm smiling because you're in a real relationship."

"You're telling me that one person giving everything and the other being incapable of giving everything is the definition of a relationship." Ginny stared at him incredulously.

Ron shook his head, "It's part of the definition, yes." Ron set his mug down and smiled at her. "Ginny, real relationships, the kind that last as long as Mum and Dad and longer, they're the ones where both sides of the relationship know that they can have those times where they need to ask everything of the other person, and that they're willing to give everything when their partner needs it too."

Ginny shook her head, "You don't understand. There have been a few moments where I've thought that maybe I really didn't like Harry."

Ron laughed out loud, "I certainly hope you have."

"You like Harry! You invited him to play on your pick up football team!" Ginny ignored the irony of defending Harry after having just admitted to having moments of disliking him.

"I think Harry is the best bloke you've ever been with," Ron's shoulders shook as he chuckled, "but I don't think you're really in love with a person if you don't have moments where you think you might hate them."

"Isn't hate the opposite of love?" Ginny felt like Ron was speaking some warped dialect of crazy.

"Not at all," Ron took another drink, "the opposite of love is indifference. That's why you see enemies to lovers in the movies a lot. Hate and love are on the same side of the line. Indifference is their real opposite. If you end up not caring at all about Harry, in that he could stay or he could go and you wouldn't really care, now that would be a problem. But when you know an imperfect person so well that you can both love them and hate them, then you're only left with one question: will you choose to hold on to each other through all the emotions, especially the hard ones?"

Ginny took a deep breath and just processed Ron's words. "So, there have been times where you hated Hermione?"

Ron laughed, "Yes, Ginny, there are moments where I may hate Hermione, but I always love her more than anything that might make me momentarily hate her. And you know what, there's probably ten or twenty times a day where she does something that could annoy me, and I still love her more than all of it. And she'll tell you the same thing. But here's the thing, emotions are based on what's happening around us and how we react to those scenarios. Which means that our emotions will change. And I can tell you that every argument that Hermione and I have had has been because of a misunderstanding. We might end up making it worse by being blatantly obtuse with each other, but it always starts because one or both of us took something the wrong way."

"So what do you do? How do you make yourself stop hating her in those moments?"

"Depends, sometimes I'm on my game and I catch that I'm upset about something silly, but not usually. What's great about emotions is that circumstances change. So something that upsets me now probably won't still upset me in twenty-four hours."

Ginny looked down into her tea, "What about those things that might not change?"

"Well," Ron paused, "Hermione hates how I wash the dishes. But I'm not relearning how to wash dishes. So one day she sat down with me and said that she didn't like how I did the dishes and asked if I would please just help with the laundry instead of the dishes. That more or less fixed things. I still don't do the dishes the way she likes, but for the most part that doesn't come up because I'm folding clothes instead."

Ginny chuckled, "Was that when you were first married?"

"Nah, that was last month."

Ginny stared at him, "But you've been married for almost five years!"

Ron grinned, "Yep, it took Hermione and me a while to realize that hints and hoping the other person will read our mind doesn't work. You have to be willing to be vulnerable and let your partner know when you're struggling to work through something. If you're continually upset about it, then bring it up. Oh and don't start out by saying that they're making problems. Hermione hates when I do that."

Ginny laughed, "Yeah, I can see why she would."

"Look," Ron picked up his empty cup and took it to the sink. "I know that sometimes in a relationship, especially a new one, it can feel like those hard moments aren't going to go away, that since the hearts and roses haven't lasted forever that you're doomed to fail. But remember, things change, you change, they change, but usually, it's a good change, usually it's growth, and usually, you can choose to fall in love all over again. Don't throw away love just because you've realized that there are other emotions involved. Learn to hold on to each other tighter through the hard times than through the good. You'll be surprised what it feels like to love someone and be loved by someone who is going to push through the storm with you, even when you both might sometimes feel like it would be easier not to."

Ron's words washed over Ginny and for the first time in weeks, she felt like she had an idea of what to do.

"Thanks, Ron, I really appreciate all this."

"Sure thing, and Ginny," he put a hand on her shoulder, "I really think Harry is worth holding on to."

Ginny nodded, "I think so too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey," Harry grinned at her when he opened the door, "I thought you were going to text me when you finished up the cake tasting."

"The bakery is close by so I thought I'd surprise you." Ginny smiled when Harry closed the space between them and kissed her.

"I was hoping we could talk." She murmured against him.

"Then stop kissing me back," Harry chuckled against her.

Ginny pulled back and laughed. "Fine, not kissing you."

Harry moved to kiss her again but she turned and slid through the door.

"Alright," Harry followed behind her, "what are we talking about?"

Ginny led him up the stairs to his room but didn't answer him.

"Gin?" Harry's voice had a tinge of worry in it.

"It's nothing bad," Ginny assured him as she sat down on his bed and he closed the door behind them. "I just," she sighed.

"Hey," Harry joined her on the bed and pulled her close to him, "whatever you need, I'm here."

Ginny willed herself to trust that he meant it. "I've, I've been feeling like because you're working through your grief that I can't ask anything of you without opening you up to more pain."

Harry let out a loud breath like he'd been holding it in since she pulled away at the front door. "Well, that's both better and worse than what my gut panic suggested."

"I'm not breaking up with you," Ginny grabbed his leg. "I'm just, I don't know, I guess I'm trying to communicate with you."

"Come here," Harry tugged on her waist as he scooted up to the pillows at the head of the bed. Ginny followed him back and nestled into his outstretched arms.

"I won't lie, that kind of sucks to hear." Harry sighed as his hand began rubbing up and down her arm.

"It sort of sucks to say it," Ginny sighed.

"Have I done anything to make you feel that way? Or are you trying to protect me from yourself?"

Ginny thought through the question, trying to determine where the feeling had started. "I guess all this is coming from the way you shut down when Kelsey showed us your childhood home for the first time. It really scared me when you became so detached and then it felt like you shut me out and I was," she took a deep breath trying to calm the memory of how worried she was about him that day, "I was worried it would break us. That I was losing you."

Harry held her tight against him, his breathing was heavy like he was forcing it to be slow, calming himself down.

"I'm sorry I scared you." He squeezed her tightly as he said it. "I hope you know that me working through my grief is taking away a lot of the power it had over me, so that it won't be able to derail us."

Ginny felt a bit of hope in his words. She hadn't really thought about it that way. "Looking back now, I can see that I've let a lot of my decisions be dictated by fear. I was so afraid of you being right back in that mindset in the back of Kelsey's car that I didn't let myself see any change or growth. Last night at dinner I was on edge that talking about your past was going to trigger you the same way that the house did."

"Have you been on edge with everything?" Harry moved his hand to comb and play through her hair.

"Yes, but that's also been because I'm so stressed out. I've had so much work to get done and I'm so nervous about Vic and Ted's wedding because I want it to be perfect, and then I've been so scared to do anything that will make you shut down again and I've felt like I'm barely treading water." Ginny sighed. She wasn't sure if it was saying all of it out loud or if it was the way Harry was working his hand through her hair, but for the first time in weeks she felt like making it through the next day was possible.

"You are amazing, you know?" Harry kissed the top of her head. "I'm so grateful that you've been here to hold me up through all this, but please, Gin, let me help hold you up too. I may not always be at one-hundred percent, but I will always hold you up on whatever ground I have under me."

Ginny felt a calm seep into her chest and she looked up at Harry with a soft smile. "I will, and I love you."

Harry's green eyes bore into hers with an intensity that Ginny opened her mouth to ask what he was thinking, but she was cut off by his kiss. Multiple times he murmured he loved her too, and Ginny never got around to asking what he'd been thinking in that moment.

Which suited Harry just fine.

[mistyyygoode]

The Lonely Hearts: 2 - The Butchery

Shelby woke up to her alarm blaring loudly. She groaned as she reached over to turn it off. She glanced at the time, signing when she saw 6:30 A.M.

She got out of bed and went straight to the next bedroom. She peeked inside to see Marie still asleep. The mother was thankful for this as she walked to the kitchen to start on breakfast and some morning tea. She made them both a smoothie, cut them up a banana and made some oatmeal. Just as she set everyone on the table, she could hear rustling sounds from down the hall.

Shelby made her way into her daughter's bedroom, turning on the nightlight. She saw Marie sucking her thumb as she peeked up at her.

"Hey, baby girl. Are you ready to get up?"

"Nuh-uh." The girl mumbled.

"But I made your favorite!"

"'Moothie?"

Shelby smiled as she nodded. She walked further into the room and reached down to pick Marie up. "Peanut butter and banana."

"Yay!" Marie said sleepily. "Potty."

"Okay, baby," Shelby said before walking to the bathroom. "Thank you for telling me." She said as she helped Marie use the restroom and then wash her hands.

"Welcomes." Marie smiled softly. She looked up at Shelby and her eyes went wide. "Mama, ya hairs!"

Shelby chuckled softly. "I know, baby! Do you like it?" She asked.

"Mhm!" The girl nodded. "Like mine." She said as she placed her hand on top of her brown curls.

"Just like yours, baby girl!" Shelby smiled again. She knew her hair would never really be like Marie's – the girl's hair was much coarser than her own, and her curls were tighter, nearly impossible to straighten out.

"Like it." Marie smiled before running to the kitchen.

"Baby! No running." Shelby said as she followed after her daughter.

"Mama, I hungwy!" The girl stated as she climbed into her chair.

"I am too, baby," Shelby said as she sat down. She handed Marie her sippy cup, which was full of the smoothie she had made. "Drink up."

Marie took the cup and started to drink. "Mm, yummy."

"That's good. You need to fill up that tummy before you go to daycare."

Marie pouted as she shoved a piece of banana into her mouth. "Why go?"

"Because Mama needs to find to go find a job. I need one so I can make money. That way I can feed you." Shelby explained softly before eating some of the oatmeal in her bowl.

"Okay." Marie nodded. "I like Mad-line."

Shelby smiled softly. "That's good, baby girl. Did you like any of the other kids?"

"Hmm..." Marie paused to sip on her drink. "Mad-line baby girl." She said.

"That's great, baby." Shelby smiled. She knew Madalyn's daughter was three, and that they were close in age.

After breakfast, Shelby got dressed in yoga pants and a sweater, and helped Marie into a pair of overalls and tennis shoes. Shelby carries her daughter downstairs, put her into the backseat, and drove to the daycare. Dropping her off seemed easier than the day before, which she thanked the Gods for.

After a successful drop-off, Shelby headed to the first stop of the day, a yoga studio she had found the address of on her phone the night before. If it was a bust, she had two more places on her list. Not only was she trying to find a place to go to for classes, but possibly one where she could work at, hopefully, part-time for the time being.

After Shelby parked her car, she grabbed her purse and saw the card that Ally had given her a few days ago. She thought to herself that maybe she would stop there between checking out places for lunch.

She stepped out of the car and headed inside the yoga studio. It seemed promising so far. When she checked it out online, it had been the highest rated one in town.

She spotted a bleached blonde, young woman behind the counter, and walked over to her with a small smile.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" she asked.

"I was thinking about signing up." Shelby started with.

"Okay," the woman smiled before looking through a stack of papers. "What's the best schedule for you?" she asked as she handed a clipboard over.

Shelby scanned the paper for a second. "I'm not sure yet... I'm new to town, and I'm still looking for a job, and I have a 22-month-old."

"We have some openings... what's your background like?"

"I owned my own yoga studio in L.A. before moving here," Shelby told the woman.

The bleached blonde smiled. "Let me go grab my boss." She said before getting up.

Shelby nodded. She waited a few minutes before the young woman came back with an older, shorter, thin, brunette mixed with grey-haired woman.

"Brandy tells me you owned your own place in L.A. and you're looking for a job?"

"Yes, ma'am," Shelby said softly.

"Come back to my office. We can talk there."

Shelby followed the woman down a hall. On the way they passed four yoga rooms, each one was in use from the looks of it. When they reached the office, the woman took a seat behind a desk and motioned for Shelby to sit across from her, and she did.

"I'm Elizabeth, by the way."

"It's lovely to meet you. I'm Shelby."

"Do you mind me asking why you left your studio?"

"I took a break for something else, and then I ended up having a baby. By the time I came back, my manager was doing such a great job that I sold it over to her. I moved here with the money and needed a new start." Shelby explained.

"Okay," Elizabeth smiled, nodding. She turned in her seat to grab a file of paper. "How old is your child now?"

"Almost two."

The older woman smiled more. "That's a tricky but good age... here's an application. If you can, put the number of your old manager or for the studio. I'll give them a call sometime today or tomorrow. I don't see why I wouldn't hire you, so after you fill this out, I'll get back to you within a week."

"Okay, thank you." Shelby smiled.

The woman handed Shelby a pen and let her be as she filled out the paper.

Shelby wrote down her maiden name instead of Miller since she was planning on changing it soon. She wrote down the number of her assistant manager and everything else that was needed before handing it back over.

"Alright, Miss..." the woman looked down at the paper. "Darling, we'll get back to you within a week if not sooner."

"Okay, thank you again," Shelby said as she stood up.

Elizabeth showed her out and shook her hand.

Shelby smiled before walking back to her car. She felt like it was a very successful start. She didn't feel the need to go anywhere else unless she didn't hear from them within the week.

So, she took the card Ally gave her and put the address into her phone's GPS. She drove straight there and headed inside. A host greeted her at the door with a smile. She handed her a menu and led her to a booth near the kitchen.

As Shelby scanned the menu, she started to wonder what to get. There were too many options on the list, they all sounded so good, and she couldn't make up her mind.

She saw the kitchen door open, and Ally walked out with a platter in one hand, and a bottle of wine in the other. She watched as the other brunette walked over to a table of woman and set everything down. She saw Ally walking back her way, and their eyes met.

"Shelby! You finally made it." The other women smiled as she walked over to her.

"Yeah," Shelby smiled softly.

"I like the hair."

"Thanks. I thought I needed something new."

"It suits you well." Ally grinned. "What are you getting?"

"I'm not sure yet. There are too many things to choose from. They all sound so good."

Ally took the seat across from Shelby. "Well, I'd say the steak is the best, but a lot of people come here for the burgers. They say they're the best in town. With the steak, I think the potatoes and onions are the best side, and for the burger, the homemade fries are my favorite."

"They both sound incredible," Shelby said before biting her lip as she looked back down at the menu.

"Well, I could get you both, and you can try, and see what like best."

"Really?" Shelby asked as she looked back up.

"Why not?"

"Well, two meals are way too much... and kind of expensive, no offense."

"It'll be on the house, don't worry about it!"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I am." Ally smiled. "I'll even get Ivy to prepare it."

"Is Ivy your top chef?"

"That and my wife."

Shelby wasn't sure why, but when she learned Ally was married, she felt a pang in her heart. She was never really attracted to a woman before, and she wasn't sure if what she felt for Ally was just one of those friend-crushes, but it sure did feel different to her.

"That would be nice," she said with a smile.

"Okay, I'll be right back." Ally said before getting up. She walked toward the kitchen, but before entering, she looked back. "What do you want to drink?"

"Water is fine."

"I'll bring you some wine." Ally said before disappearing behind the kitchen door.

Shelby shook her head with a small laugh. She didn't get the chance to tell Ally she couldn't drink but thought maybe just a taste wouldn't hurt. As she waited, she grabbed her phone to see she got a text from her old manager.

Mandy: Just letting you know, some woman named Elizabeth called. She asked if you were a good person to work with

Shelby: I'm hoping to get a job at her studio. What did you so?

Mandy: Well, of course, I told her you were amazing when you were here. She asked what you were like as a boss, and I told her you were the best boss anyone could have

Shelby: Thank you so much, Mandy

Mandy: You're welcome. Good luck, and say hi to Marie for me

Shelby: Will do

"Here you go," Shelby heard and looked up to see a glass of red wine in front of her and Ally across from her.

"Thank you, but I really can't have any. I have to pick up my daughter after this." Shelby said hesitantly.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. Let me go get you that water then." Ally said as she grabbed the glass. "Would you want it to-go?"

"Sure," Shelby said with a small smile.

Ally came back soon with a glass of water and a whole bottle of wine. "Here you go."

"Oh, you didn't have to get me a whole bottle."

"It's okay, really. I don't mind. This one is my favorite, so I'm sure you'll enjoy it." Ally said with a smile.

"I love any red wine," Shelby said softly.

"Me too, honestly. The burger should be out in a minute, and then the steak." Ally informed the other woman.

"Okay," she nodded softly.

"So, what do you think of the town so far?"

"It seems great."

"Do you have a job here?"

"I just turned in an application at the yoga studio on Fannin."

"I've heard great things about that place." Ally said.

"The Google reviews seemed that way. It's the only place I've applied to so far." Shelby explained.

"Well, if it doesn't work out, we're always accepting."

"Oh, I wouldn't be a very good waitress, but thank you." Shelby smiled softly.

"There's more than just waitressing. We have bartenders, chefs, and I need an assistant, or I'll have to find a nanny for our son." Ally explained.

Shelby felt a pang again. She knew the struggles of having too much work and not enough time for your child. "You have a son?" she asked with a small smile.

"Yes. His name is Ozymandias, but everyone calls him Oz or Ozzy." Ally said with a smile. "You have a daughter?"

Shelby nodded with a small smile. "Yeah. Her name is Marie, she's almost two."

Ally smiled brightly. "I remember when Ozzy was two. We were trying to potty train him, and it was a wreck. I suppose it's easier with girls."

"That's what I've been told." Shelby chuckled. "It's getting easier now that she's telling me when she needs to go other than just sitting there staring at me."

"Ozzy did that too!" Ally laughed. "It's so damn frustrating."

"It really is," Shelby said.

The kitchen door opened up, and a blonde-haired woman walked out with a small platter with a burger and some fries. She set it on the table while smiling.

"This is Ivy." Ally told Shelby. "This is Shelby, the woman I told you about."

"A new face in town is always great." Ivy smiled. "It's great to meet you."

"You too, thank you both so much for this."

"You're welcome," they said in unison.

"Alright, I've got to get back. See you later." Ivy said before pecking Ally's lips and walked back to the kitchen.

Shelby looked down at her food and felt her stomach growl. She took a knife from the silverware set and cut the burger in half before taking a bite. She wiped her mouth after swallowing. "This is incredible," she said with a smile.

"Great!" Ally grinned.

"Do you guys cut your own meat?"

"We do."

"Do you cook as well?" Shelby asked before taking another bite.

"No, that's all Ivy. I stick to the books and accounting. I can't stand the sight of blood, so I hardly ever to in the kitchen, unless it's before prep, or for someone special." Ally explained.

"I know what you mean." Shelby nodded. "I used to be vegan."

"What happened?"

"Well," she chuckled bitterly to wipe her hands clean with the napkin. "After recuperating at the hospital and a blood transfusion, I was diagnosed with anemia, and I was told that I basically had to eat meat to replenish the iron that I needed because supplements weren't enough." She explained. She was slightly shocked that she found it so easy to talk to Ally about these things, things she hadn't really told or talked about with anyone else.

"I'm sorry about that. It must have been incredibly stressful to go through all of that."

"Yeah..." she nodded before grabbing a few of the fries. "God, these are great too."

"They are," Ally nodded with a smile.

"I can't imagine anything else being better than this."

"Then the steak will blow your mind."

Not long after, a waitress came over to the table with the steak with potatoes and onions. Shelby took the first bite and hummed again. "God, I don't think I'll be able to eat anywhere else." She laughed. "I'm sure you hear that a lot."

"We do, but I'm thrilled every time." Ally said.

"I can't decide which is better."

"Either way, you can take what you can't finish home with you."

"Thank you, really."

"Of course! Take is as a welcome to town."

"Okay," Shelby smiled shyly. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome. I know how hard it can be to relocate."

"You do?"

"Yes, about fifteen years ago, Ivy and I moved here from New York, and it was rough for the both of us." Ally explained.

"It was hard on Matt and me when we moved too, so I understand."

"That was your husband, right?"

"Yeah, well... ex." Shelby shrugged before eating more.

"You two got a divorce?" Ally asked. "Sorry... that's none of my business."

"It's okay," she said. "It was in the works before the second part of the show was filmed."

"You know, you don't seem like you did on there." Ally said.

"It was highly edited... Sydney was an asshole and made it seem as if we all hated each other, and after the police found everything his team made it just as he would have."

"They sure did make it seem that way. Audrey seemed the worse though."

Shelby shrugged again. "She wasn't the worst, but... not the best either."

"Do you mind me asking if it was weird? I mean, having to see yourself played by someone else?"

"I don't mind. And it was extremely weird."

"Has anyone else said anything?" Ally asked.

"No, you were one of the first people I've actually spoken to besides the movers and the people at the daycare where Marie goes," Shelby explained. "It's why I dyed my hair, and since I did that and changed my name, no one else has seemed to realize."

"What did you change it to?"

"My maiden name, Darling."

"Shelby Darling." Ally said. "I like that."

Shelby loved the sound of her name from the other woman's lips. "Thank you."

"Baby, you need to go pick up Oz!" Ivy yelled from the kitchen door.

Ally looked down at her watch. "Shit, sorry... I need to go."

"You're fine," Shelby said softly. "I should probably get going too."

"I'll send one of the waitresses over with a box." Ally said as she stood up. "See you around?"

"Defiantly." Shelby smiled.

[huntressjinsoul]

Scared to Be Lonely

Summary: Victoria and MC have had a no-labeled, just sex arrangement ever since the decision to resume the production of Tender Nothings and after MC cleared her name and her friends begged for her forgiveness. Not everything is sunshine and happiness, however, and MC and Victoria learn more about each other and themselves.

Warning: Slightly nsfw, not explicit smut but heavily implied

A/N: I never intended for this fic to be this long lol. A dash of fluff and a whole lot of angst (I just love hurting myself with angst 🙂)

Loosely inspired by Martin Garrix’s Scared to Be Lonely feat. Dua Lipa

MC gasped as she reached her high after her fourth round with Victoria tonight. She smiled as Victoria kissed her way up to MC’s lips.

“God, you’re so good,” MC mumbled dreamily.

“I know I am,” Victoria smirked as she leaned down to kiss MC again. MC moaned as she tasted herself on Victoria’s lips. After a few more seconds, Victoria pulled away and got out the bed to retrieve her clothes. “I’ve gotta go now. Early morning with my scene with Matt tomorrow.”

MC pouted and sat up in her bed, watching Victoria hastily put her clothes on. “Or, you know, you could stay. Both of us are going to the same place tomorrow anyway.”

“No, it’s easier this way. Plus, we don’t want anybody to question why I was seen leaving your apartment in the morning and arriving with you on set anyway.”

“Right,” MC frowned.

Once Victoria finished getting dressed and turned to face MC, she saw her frown and went over to kiss her softly. “We both know what we signed up for: just sex. That’s it, if you want something more, it’s not with me.”

“Yeah, I know,” MC replied. She got up and put her robe on. “Let me see you out.” After Victoria left her apartment, MC went back to her room and checked her phone and saw a text from Gloria.

Mama Psychic: Sweetie, I know you guys followed my advice to resolve the sexual tension, but there is no reason to be *that* loud. Please do keep it down next time.

MC blushed as she finished reading the text. She quickly texted back with an apology and climbed into bed to sleep. The next morning, she woke up early and bought coffee for her and her friends before arriving on set. She really only wanted to buy one for Victoria, but couldn’t risk any suspicions so she bought Teja and Matt each a cup too.

“Alright, decaf for Matt, triple shot for Teja, and double for Victoria,” she called out as she handed out the cups.

“You are a life-saver MC. Markus is already starting with the bullshit this morning,” Teja rolled her eyes as she greedily took a gulp from her cup.

“No problem, it was on my way anyways,” MC shrugged. She saw Victoria roll her eyes and scoff in the corner of her eye, but she shrugged it off, assuming that Victoria was putting on her fake diva persona again.

“Matt! Victoria! I need you on set faster than I can say Shrek! Teja! I need the close up lens for the camera like yesterday! Hurry up! Chop! Chop!” Markus bellowed out.

“Back to work,” Teja grumbled as she set her cup down. Matt rubbed her shoulder reassuringly as they all went back on set.

“Hey I wasn’t expecting you tonight. No call or text?” MC said as she pulled Victoria into her apartment by her hips. She started to trail a line a kisses on the base of Victoria’s neck and upwards.

Victoria gently pushed her away and glared at her. “Why were you flirting with Teja today?”

MC looked confusedly toward her. “When did I do that?”

“Don’t lie to me. You flirted with her after you bought her coffee and then flirted with her throughout the day!” Victoria retorted accusingly.

“Um, I did not flirt with her. One, I bought her coffee to hide the fact that I wanted to buy you coffee. And two, I just wanted to help her out on set. You see how Markus treats her almost on a daily basis, she needs help and support whenever she can.”

“Well you might’ve not flirted with her but she definitely flirted with you,” she growled.

“What does it even matter!? It’s just playful flirting! It’s not like we’re exclusive or anything, you said it yourself last night! No need to get jealous!” MC raised her voice.

“I’m not jealous! I’m just mad at the fact that you let her flirt with you when you don’t even reciprocate her feelings!” Victoria yelled back.

“What’s it matter to you!? You’re not getting affected! I don’t know why you care! You only care about yourself only anyway!”

“Take. That. Back.” Victoria growled as she stepped closer to MC, glaring intensely into her eyes.

“Make me.” MC bit out, squaring her shoulders. After a few seconds of the intense staring contest, their lips collided in a heated frenzy. Victoria bit harshly down MC’s bottom lip as she groaned in reply. Victoria hastily and roughly tore off MC’s shirt and her pants followed suit. She jumped on MC and wrapped her legs around MC’s waist as MC held onto each side of her legs.

MC roughly sucked on and licked Victoria’s neck as she moaned loudly. “Bedroom, MC. Now.” Victoria gasped as MC bit down on her sensitive spot. MC took Victoria’s shirt off and threw it across the living room before following her orders.

After they were done, Victoria got up from the bed, recovered her clothes and put them on, and left, muttering a ‘see you tomorrow.’ MC sighed as she picked up her clothes from the living room and went back to bed.

“You know I had a really great time tonight,” MC grinned as she walked down the sidewalk with Victoria next to her.

“I did too,” Victoria smiled back at her. They had spent another girls’ night out at Hooligans again, although MC believed that it was a date.

“I can’t believe you knocked that guy’s tooth out,” MC chuckled. Victoria laughed alongside her, smiling at MC’s cute laugh.

“Hey, he wouldn’t stop flirting and harassing me. What was I supposed to do?” Both of them continued to walk in peaceful silence after that and MC decided to make a bold move and grabbed Victoria’s hand and held it. Victoria froze, but squeezed MC’s gently. Both of them marveled at how much of a good fit their hands were, but didn’t voiced it out loud.

After a few minutes of more walking, they reached MC’s apartment. “Wanna come in?” she smirked at her lover.

“Of course I do,” Victoria smirked back as she teasingly ran a finger down MC’s arm and bit her lip. MC groaned and pulled her into a heated but chaste kiss before dragging Victoria quickly up to her apartment.

After they were done, they continued to make out for awhile. “Stay with me tonight?” MC asked hopefully. Victoria thought about it before nodding slowing and turning around so her back could meet with MC’s front. MC spooned her and Victoria raised MC’s hand up to kiss it before both of them fell asleep, smiles gracing on both of their faces.

The next morning, MC woke up to an empty bed.

“I don’t know why you’re so angry! It was an honest mistake!” MC yelled at Victoria. They were both in MC’s apartment after a long, frustrating day of filming.

“An honest mistake is forgetting a line or two. Not butchering the whole scene up and preventing others from shooting their own scenes!” Victoria retorted.

“Matt screwed up some of his lines! Why aren’t you over at his house screaming at him too?”

“At least he tried to fix up his act! You just kept floundering until Markus took pity on you and put his frustration out on the rest of us!”

“And how is him putting his frustration out on you my fault!?”

“Because you were the main reason he was frustrated in the first place! God, I didn’t know people from Iowa were this stupid!”

“At least I’m not a washed-up actress struggling to find her bearings and securing herself and her spotlight again by fucking her co-stars! Why don’t you go back to Hooligans? You’ll get all the attention you want over there!” As soon as those words left MC’s mouth, she instantly regretted it as soon as she saw Victoria’s heartbroken face. “Tor- Victoria, I- I didn’t mean that.”

Victoria seethed in anger and tried to kept her voice strong. “You know, I thought you were different. To think that I actually wanted to- you know what, forget it.” She quickly exited MC’s apartment and slammed the door before MC could see her unshed tears. MC tried to follow her, but Victoria was racing out of the apartment complex and street before MC could say anything else. She sighed and went back to her apartment, where Seth was standing by her door.

“You alright, Iowa? There was a lot of screaming and then it just abruptly ended.”

MC smiled weakly at him. “Yeah I’m fine Seth, just another argument with Victoria.”

Seth looked unsure, but accepted it. “Ok,” he said skeptically, “if you need anything, I’m right next door.” MC nodded and both of them returned to their own apartments. MC went to her room and grabbed her phone to text Victoria an apology before crying herself to sleep.

For the next for weeks, Victoria avoided MC like the plague unless it involved a scene together. Every time MC tried to talk to Victoria, she would just ignore her and lock herself in her own trailer until she was needed. She stopped going over to MC’s apartment and ignored all of the voicemails and texts MC gave her. Even Matt and Teja thought there was something going on between them, they saw that Victoria was colder and more aloof than usual.

One day, MC arrived on set late and quickly got into costume and makeup before meeting up with the rest of the cast. “Where’s Victoria?” she questioned Matt as she looked around.

“You don’t know? She’s done,” Matt answered confusedly.

“Done? What do you mean she’s done?” MC said as her heart rate picked up.

“Her last day of filming was last Friday. She dropped by to say her goodbyes this morning then left.”

“Wh- where is she now?”

“She landed another major role in a highly anticipated film. She should be flying out to London right about now. I thought she told everyone about this?”

MC’s blood ran cold. “London, as in London, England? As in Big Ben London? As in- no, she didn’t tell me.”

“Yeah, she wrapped up all of her scenes last week and left. We all tried to throw a party for her but she glared at us all and walked away,” Matt chuckled.

“I- I got to go. I don’t feel so good,” MC stuttered as she quickly left the set, costume and makeup still on. She quickly texted Chazz to come over to her apartment. Aside from Seth and Gloria, Chazz was the only other person that knew about Victoria and MC. He advised her to not pursue anything, fearing that MC would get her heart broken, but she didn’t listen to him.

After arriving at the door to her apartment, she saw Chazz leaned up against it. “Hey, what’s up? I thought you had a shooting today.” He took a closer look at MC to see that she had unshed tears. “Woah what’s wrong babe?”

MC quickly opened her door and both of them quickly closeed the door and walked over to the couch. “Sh- she left Chazz. I hurt her so much I made her leave,” she sobbed into his shoulder.

“Oh MC I’m so sorry,” Chazz said as he rubbed her back reassuringly. “Tell me the whole story.” MC spent the remainder of the day trying to coherently explain the start of her ‘relationship’ with Victoria to presently. She talked about Victoria’s dreams and fears while Chazz listened intently.

“MC, from what you’ve told me, you hurt her bad,” Chazz said softly.

“I- I know that. But I didn’t mean to say that, we were both heated and it was a long day. I never meant to say that,” MC sniffed.

“Victoria isn’t all innocent in this situation either, but you took it too far. You aimed for her biggest insecurity and fear.”

“I know I did. I never should’ve said that she was washed-up.”

“It’s not just that, MC. She has trust issues too and you basically told her that she was some Hollywood slut that slept around to get back on top. Look, she had two failed marriages, right? That wears down a person’s trust and love in a partner. Maybe that’s why she only wanted just sex between you two. She started to trust you more, she stayed with you that one time and you said that sometimes it felt like you were in a real relationship. If she felt all that, she was on the verge to trusting a person since who knows how long? What you said destroyed her hope in a loving relationship and she had to build up her walls again.”

“When did you get so perceptive?” MC laughed humorlessly. “Ugh, I have to fix this. Chazz, I- I love her even now and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

A knock at the door interrupted whatever Chazz was about to say. “Come in. The door’s open,” MC weakly called out.

The door opened and Gloria popped her head in. She smiled sadly at the sight of Chazz cradling MC. “I’m sorry about Victoria sweetie. Right after you left to go to work, she came by to drop this letter. She gave it to me, I guess she knew you were gone.” She handed MC a folded piece of paper before squeezing her shoulder. “It’s going to be alright, MC. I sense reconciliation and good things between the two of you in the future.” She nodded at Chazz respectfully before leaving the apartment.

Chazz’s phone buzzed as he grabbed it. He groaned, “Boss man wants to have a meeting with me. I- I don’t want you to be alone. I’ll tell him to-“

“No, no. It might be important. I’ll be fine Chazz, I’m just gonna take a nap,” MC smiled weakly.

Chazz looked at her skeptically before sighing. He got up from the couch and leaned down to kiss MC’s forehead. “Bye MC. Stay safe.”

“You too.” After Chazz left, MC trudged her way to her bed, holding Victoria’s letter tightly. When she got situated in the bed, she opened the letter with trembling hands, scared of what’s written on it.

MC, by the time you read this, I’ll be halfway to London. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I was leaving, I just thought it would’ve been easier this way. The truth is, MC, is that I am falling in love with you. I know I made this a ‘no strings attached’ type of thing, but I fell for you. At first I thought that I was just scared to be lonely- I was freaked out that I was 35 in an industry that had a reputation of short term love and divorce city. I felt that I wouldn’t fall in love with anyone else after my second marriage. But you changed that, you chipped away that insecurity piece by piece. Then you said those words. I was heartbroken because I planned on laying out my feelings for you. The next couple of weeks I spent alone clarified some things for me. I’m toxic, MC. I destroy everything and every person I interact with. I’m an insecure grown woman that acts like a child when she doesn’t get her way. I am so, so sorry that I hurt you emotionally and physically (I know you forgave me for that but I’m not over it myself). You deserve better than me.  So this letter is a promise. I promise to better myself, not for you, but for myself. I realize that I am the problem and I need to get over myself and work on myself. For the next couple of months, I’ll be staying in London for this movie. During my stay, I plan on seeing a therapist or something to work past all of my problems, so I’ll be a better version of me. Don’t plan on seeing me at the premiere of Tender Nothings, the scheduled shooting for my new movie conflicts it. Maybe after I come back, fate will let us meet up again. For now, though, I just want to say that I love you MC. Stay safe and live your best life without me.

Part two? 👀 

[lezliefaithwade]

Faith, Hope & Charity

At Vatican City, I overheard two American tourists with distinctly southern dialects discussing the beggars asking tourists for change.

“You’d think they would do something about it,” the man said to the woman, who nodded in agreement while admiring her recently purchased crucifix.

Visitors waiting for their designated museum times can sit in the square or stroll through any one of a dozen souvenir shops that sell religious artifacts for exorbitant amounts of money. Things that generally sell on Kijiji or Amazon for next to nothing are priced three or four times higher in the square. And these tourists beside me had opted to give their money to thieves in suites rather than beggars in rags. Interesting. I have to assume they were religious; hence, why the crucifix? True, it could have been a gift for someone else, but even so, it seemed so biblical, me sitting at the Vatican beside two reasonably well-dressed people who were loudly condemning the poor.

I’m not against people with a belief. I’ve known some incredibly kind Christians and some indecent ones too. I’ve dated Jews, Greek Orthodox, Coptics, atheists, and agnostics. Sometimes I meet people who tell me they’re spiritual, and I take that to mean that they believe in a higher power but not an organized religion. The thing about organized religion is how desperate they are to recruit you. I’ve made the mistake a few times of accompanying a friend or boyfriend to their church or temple of choice only to be cross-examined at “friendship hour” afterwards.

“Don’t forget to sign the registry” “Be sure to leave your e-mail?” “How did you like the service?” “

I’m always so tempted to say, “I didn’t like the service at all. I thought the little speech in the middle was boring as hell. In the theatre, you’d never be able to get away with so little effort.” In fact, during a few of those boring lectures, I’ve actually wondered what it would be like to review them. Can a person be a homily critic?

Last Sunday at St. Thomas Episcopalian, Reverend Porter spoke on the story of the Good Samaritan in what can only be described as a futile effort to instill any empathy whatsoever. His monotone delivery showed no sign of excitement or interest in the very subject of which he spoke, and his overuse of gesticulation could be better served as choirmaster. I highly recommend any churchgoer avoid this Liturgical season until Easter, when things will hopefully become a bit livelier.

I’ve often made the mistake of expecting more from those who claim to believe. After all, the general consensus (and I don’t think I’m going out on a limb here) is that someone who follows the word of God is most likely going to practice kindness, love, compassion, forgiveness, and understanding.  It’s like a person who boasts of being a great chef and then serves you store-bought pasta with a lumpy Béchamel. “I don’t wish to offend,” you might say, “But do you really expect me to swallow this crap?” If Catholic school taught me anything, it was how rarely one saw the word of God put into practice. Not that everyone was mean, but the “Do unto others…” doctrine wasn’t generously applied. Sadly, more often than not, I’ve often been disappointed by those who claim to be followers of Christ. I think, if Jesus were around today, He’d be disappointed too. Sometimes I imagine Christ with a Twitter account and millions of followers towards whom He’d constantly have to correct in a never-ending stream of tweets like:

“I cannot be held responsible for everything the prophets said,” or “I didn’t even know Leviticus.”

People who have no religious beliefs whatsoever can also be surprisingly horrible. I’m always slightly taken aback when they denounce religion taking the stance that this makes them somehow better than everyone else. I’m easily tricked into thinking they are, then let down when they behave just as badly. These are the people who fight for climate control while driving an SUV. They’re firmly against bullying, then bully you when you disagree with them. I kind of subscribe to the whole: Let he without sin cast the first stone. As advice goes, it’s pretty good.

My belief system runs somewhere between Spiritual Deism with a side of Christianity and a strong desire to be Jewish.  My Jewish boyfriend for seven years reminded me of what it meant to be part of a family, something I always wanted.  I looked forward to Friday Shabbat dinners where we’d gather over brisket and discuss important issues like the colour of the car Bernie was going to buy.

“It’s red.” He’d nonchalantly say while savouring the dinner.

“Red?” his Mother would announce. Fork down, dinner halted. “You’re not a red car sort of guy.”

“What does that mean?” Bernie would ask, oblivious to where this was going.

“You’re a blue car or a gold car-- not red. You’re brother here; he’s a red car driver. Mr. Flashy. Mr. Look-at-Me. But you…you’re definitely not red.”

“I can be flashy!”

“Never!”

“Sure, I can.”

“Not going to happen.”

“There are plenty of times when I’ve been flashy.”

“Name one?”

“Aunt Zelda’s birthday party?”

“Aunt Zelda’s birthday party? What are you talking about?”

“I did that impersonation of Lenny Bruce.”

“Oy vey. Shut up and eat your brisket. And tomorrow, change the colour of your car.”

My first husband’s father, Ezzat, was completely the opposite. A proud Egyptian, he’d grill me over dinner with questions like, “Do I or do I not ALWAYS ask you about your father?” to which I’d cautiously reply, “Well…I wouldn’t say always.” The next thing I knew, I was being called a liar, and he’d refuse to cross the threshold of my home. Once, while I was still suffering from dry sockets after having my wisdom teeth removed, he blended lamb, lentils and carrots together in what can only be described as vomit. It was a lovely gesture, but he was deeply offended when I couldn’t drink/eat it. I offended him a lot. Looking back on old journals, it strikes me now that no fiancé in the history of the world was more disliked. At night I’d pray, “Dear God, what have I done to make everyone hate me?” And all I heard back was, “Who’s everyone?”

Christian or not, it isn’t easy being a good person. When people run a stop sign, then give me the finger when I honk, I’m apoplectic, ruminating all day on what an asshole they are. If someone cheats me or slights me or makes me the subject of a lie, I brood and stew, giving away too much power to those who wish to hurt me. I aspire to be most like my father, who was always kind and courteous. Walking down the street in his later years, he would say hello to everyone and mean it. He was genuinely interested in people. I was grateful that he didn’t seem to notice women blanch when he called them “dear” or, after exchanging pleasantries, would leave someone with a “God bless you.” As his dementia grew worse, he appeared to become more and more beatific. Whether playing monopoly or eating a sandwich, he relished every moment accepting his fate with grace. As I sat beside his hospital bed and watched him pass from this world to the next, I believed he was embraced by something.

I think about my friends who have been oppressed yet still find the ability to forgive, celebrating at Baptist churches with a kind of joy I rarely see anywhere. I have learned a lot from my Black friends, and colleagues about what it means to be, if not Christian, then Christian like. I’m humbled by the love I’ve received when I probably didn’t deserve it.  

Hollywood would have you believe that Christians are either assholes or saints, and regardless of which category you fall into, you’ll suffer in the end. The assholes are hoisted on their own petard, and the saints are martyred.  I have a famous writer friend in L.A. who once said to me, “It was easier to come out as gay than Christian in Los Angeles.”

When I was seven, I saw the movie Song of Bernadette based on the true story of a young girl visited by the Virgin Mary. As a result of her miraculous visitations, Bernadette is rewarded with tuberculosis of the bone, suffers terrible pain and eventually dies—all while being persecuted by a nun who is jealous of her visions. At seven, I put two and two together. If that’s what happens to you when you’re humble and devout, then count me out. The last thing I wanted was for God or Mary or Angels to appear before me. And it wasn’t just Bernadette. Saint Afra, Saint Aggripina, Saint Basilissa, Saint Cecilia, Saint Dymphna, Saint Eurosia, Saint Susanna, Saint Juthwara, Saint Noyala, and Saint Winifred were all decapitated for their faith. To make matters worse, Faith was my middle name. What was my Mother thinking when she saddled me with a Christian moniker?  From what I could tell, since the basis of sainthood appeared to be suffering under horrible circumstances, I was eager to abandon the idea of being good altogether.  As long as I had a little larceny in me, I could stave off being burned at the stake or decapitated.  When misbehaving, my Mother would ask, “Why are you so bad?” And I would answer, “So I don’t become a saint.” I could see no situation in which becoming pious was worth it.

Back in the Vatican museum, I stood beneath the Sistine Chapel ceiling with hordes of other tourists feeling a bit like I was in purgatory waiting for judgment. Guards constantly chastised us to be quiet as we craned our necks to catch a glimpse of God. “There’s so much nudity,” I heard someone say, “God doesn’t look like that.” I was tempted to say, “It’s not a photograph. It’s an interpretation.” But I wisely kept my mouth shut. As I stared at the Delphic Sibyl, I remembered the legend: …born between man and goddess, daughter of sea monsters and an immortal nymph; she became a wandering voice that brought to the ears of men tidings of the future wrapped in dark riddles. It sounds like Sibyl might be pretty busy these days. Finally herded outside, most of the people around me had already put Michelangelo’s frescos out of mind. It was just one more thing to cross off their bucket list. Instead, their attention was now on the line-up at the Vatican pizzeria where for 10 Euros you could have a slice with cheese. 2 more Euros, and you could have water add an extra Euro and you could have it blessed.

As my time to visit St. Peter’s Basilica drew near, I lined up like a good little pilgrim to enter the “Holy Door” and passed into the atrium. I didn’t feel the presence of God there, just tourists who couldn’t resist a good selfie in front of the Pieta. Michelangelo’s sculpture masterpiece conveys the sorrow of the Virgin Mary, her right hand clutching her dead son while her left-hand falls limp at her side, resigned. I was contemplating the gesture when the woman beside me asked her friend,

“What do you suppose it means?”.

“Maybe she dropped her cellphone,” her companion quipped, and they laughed. It echoed shrilly through the chamber like hyenas. I sometimes feel the same way about women as I do about Christians. I expect them to be better and disappointed when they aren’t. I’m sure they feel the same way about me.

[megaphonemonday]

the fire went wild

dothething asked, as a response to just like a ring of fire, when Mike realized his feelings. I personally think the show did a pretty good job of tracking Mike’s feelings for Ginny, so consider this a 4+1 times he should’ve realized something.

read on ao3

catching your lollipop fast ball

Another perfect screwball landed squarely in Mike’s mitt. He couldn’t help but be impressed, not that he really wanted to show it. Couldn't let the rookie get too full of herself, now could he? So, he snapped his gum a few times before popping the ball out of the webbing and snatching it right out of the air. He didn't even bauble the catch. 

Baker wasn't the only one who could impress.

“Good,” he finally called, throwing it back to the artificial mound. “Now throw me the fastball I actually asked for.”

Her nose wrinkled, eyebrows furrowing. Without the brim of a baseball cap to cover it up, it was pretty obvious. A little amused, Mike had to wonder if that was how she always looked when she wanted to shake him off. The set of her mouth looked just right, lips pursed in annoyance. He’d gotten pretty familiar over the 17 entire times she waved his calls off her last start.

“That’s not what I’m working on,” she tried, worrying the ball behind her back. There was no doubt in Mike’s mind that her fingers had settled into a screwball grip yet again. Well, if she wanted to dick around, fine. At least the foam mats here in the pitching lanes were a little easier on his knees than the hard packed clay on the field. Mike could wait her out.

“It’s gonna be,” he tried anyway. If he didn't have to spend his entire evening in the bowels of Dodger Stadium, even if it was with someone as intriguing as Ginny Baker, why should he? “There’s nothing you or I can do to tweak that screwgie. Your fastball on the other hand...”

Baker's pursed lips flattened out into a straight line, but she didn't give him an actual reply, instead looking down as she toed the rubber and settled into her windup.

It was a refreshing change not being told to fuck off. Most of the bullpen was too familiar with him for the full force of his captaincy to have much effect on them. Mike should really work with the rookies more often. They had such a pleasing way of deferring to his every call. 

Well. Most of his calls.

Another screwball landed in his mitt. 

He tilted his head at her in exasperation, rolling his eyes though he was sure she couldn’t see it in the dim light of Dodger Stadium’s pitching lanes or the shadows of his mask. She raised her eyebrows in challenge.

Flinging the ball back at her with more strength than the throw really required, he gave up on reining in his annoyance. Given the way the impact with her glove rang against the cold cinderblock, Mike had a feeling Baker knew it, too. Still, she didn't wince or even shake out her hand, simply climbing back up the hill to set for another pitch. 

“Fastball,” he commanded gruffly, giving her the hand sign for good measure.

To be honest, if she didn’t listen again, Mike wasn’t sure what he’d do, but it’d probably involve more than a little yelling on his part. He had a feeling, though, that Ginny Baker would give just as good as she got. 

(He kind of wanted to find out.)

Baker huffed but shrugged. She settled into her stance and sent a perfectly serviceable, if unenthusiastic, fastball right down the middle of the plate. If every hitter worth their salt wouldn’t have been all over that pitch like white on rice, Mike wouldn’t have minded the lack of heat.

As it was...

“I hardly even needed a mitt to catch that, Baker,” he taunted, throwing the ball back. “Weren’t you just tellin' me you top out at 87? That couldn’t’ve been more than 70.”

Even across 60 feet, 6 inches, it was hard to miss the stubborn set of Ginny Baker's jaw. It was a new expression from her, but one that Mike had a feeling he'd be seeing much more of before the season was out. She gave a sharp shake of her head, reared back into her windup, and threw again. 

Fastball, top inside corner. This time, there was even a slight sting in his palm.

Something like pride fluttered to life in Mike’s gut. And when Ginny grinned, teeth on full display, that flutter kicked into high gear.

Mike cleared his throat, flinging the ball back a little harder than necessary, though it had nothing to do with annoyance this time.

“Good. Again.”

They continued on in this pattern, Mike alternating between approval and goading to get his desired results and Ginny generally rising to meet and exceed his expectations, until Baker’d exhausted her 40-odd pitches. She didn’t protest when he stood and signaled the end of their session, but Mike could still tell that she was itching for more. 

Good. It was nice to see that first game really had been a fluke. She really did want this.

Mike jerked his head to the door, but didn’t wait for her to catch up. She had the knees of a 23-year-old. He did not. 

Sure enough, it only took a few seconds for her to fall into step beside him on the walk back to the visitor's clubhouse. She shook out her arms and stretched them over her head, bouncing on the balls of her feet even as they walked. Mike marveled at her energy. Hadn’t she done early work—and Jesus, it was work. Parts of Mike still ached from yesterday's tandem work out session—before Kimmel, too? Wasn’t she tired? He sure as hell was, and the game hadn't even started yet.

“Blip said if we win in LA, there’s a club y’all usually go to. You gonna come out, too?”

Mike always did. And usually he left the place with some very entertaining company. But something within him rebelled at the idea of sharing that bit of information. He shrugged it off and frowned, trying to project an air befitting his status as her captain.

“Let’s worry about actually winning first, okay, Baker?”

Her grin, dimples popping and eyes dancing, made him feel a lot of things, but most of them weren’t even remotely related to his status as her captain. 

Automatically, he grinned back. Privately, though, Mike resolved to put as much effort as necessary into finding some company for tonight. A little no-strings fun, some relieved tension, and hopefully he'd wake up in the morning with his head on straight again. 

Yeah. That was exactly what he needed.

listening to your feminista rants

"This is such bullshit,” Baker muttered mulishly. Mike could just see her now, crossing her arms over her chest and slumping in her seat. 

Except, he couldn’t see her.

They were all the way across town from one another, Baker presumably in her suite at the Omni and Mike stretched out on one of the recliners scattered around his pool, trying to convince himself to go inside. If he went inside, though, started getting ready for bed, he’d have to end this phone call. Because while it wasn’t weird to talk to his rookie most nights—about anything from tomorrow’s start to the meager offerings of late night TV in hotel cable packages—it was definitely helped by the fact that Mike stayed out of his bedroom while doing it.

Specifically, he stayed out of bed.

It just— It was better if he did. 

“Huh?” Mike was pretty sure he’d missed something. Hadn’t they just been talking about the surplus of fro yo shops in the Gaslamp Quarter and what’d happened to all the real ice cream shops, didn't people know that the novelty of paying by the ounce was not offset by the objective inferiority of frozen yogurt?

Which was definitely some kind of bullshit, but not the kind that would inspire this level of annoyance from Baker. 

Well. Maybe it would. The girl did take her food very seriously.

She sighed down the line. “Sorry. Amelia sent me this interview request.”

When she didn’t elaborate further, Mike prodded, “Isn’t that her job?”

He didn’t love talking about Amelia with Baker. Just like he didn’t love talking about Baker with Amelia, but he could suck it up and play it cool for a while. It helped that he hadn't actually seen Amelia today. Mike didn't like to think about the fact that it was easier to talk to his rookie when he hadn't recently hooked up with her agent, though. Too messy for his tastes. Then again, hooking up with his rookie's agent was probably too messy for his tastes, too.

“Yeah,” she agreed, a little listlessly. “She usually does a better job of weeding out the obviously sexist ones. I think she’s been distracted lately.”

Oh, was this another one of her girl power trips? He could definitely deal with that. Ignoring the rest of her complaint and whatever role he might play in it, Mike tucked an arm behind his head and asked, “What's wrong with the request?”

“What isn’t?” Baker muttered under her breath. Mike waited her out until she sighed and offered, “They led off with what they wanted the photo spread to look like.”

“I don’t see what’s so obviously sexist about that.”

“That’s because you’re a dude.”

“That’s probably true.”

It didn't even get a laugh. She was too worked up for his dry delivery to even dent her indignation. To be fair, there was a lot in her life to be indignant about. 

“Like—” Baker cut herself off with a humorless laugh, but not for long. "No one sends your agent the list of outfits they want you to wear for a photoshoot and completely forgets to add the interview questions, right? No one would dream of doing that to anyone else in MLB. Just me. It’s just me who has to navigate even the shortest interaction with a reporter like I’m guarding state secrets. All because I want people to focus on how I play the game.”

Mike didn’t tell her that he couldn’t really remember the last time an article about him had included an actual photoshoot. “You’re not wrong,” he said because A) that was what he was supposed to say in this situation, having learned his lesson from listening to Rachel's complaints, and B) she wasn't.

“And no one asks you about your skincare regimen during pre-game pressers. Or cares what you wear on road trips or what you eat on your cheat days or which of the hundreds of guys you’ve been in a four-foot radius of in the past 24 hours is secretly your boyfriend and which ones just want to sleep with you.”

“Well,” he drawled, “if I had a secret boyfriend, I’m pretty sure some people would be interested.”

That earned Mike his laugh. Not quite as bright as he’d wanted and almost in spite of herself, but he grinned at the still water of his pool anyway. 

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

And he did. There was no denying that Ginny Baker, just by virtue of being the first, was going to be subjected to bullshit her teammates weren’t and never would be. While it wasn’t often that she actually complained about it, Mike couldn’t miss the way it dragged on her. The way her smile was always a shade too harsh in press conferences, her jokes rehearsed. He definitely couldn’t miss the way she always let out a huge sigh of relief the second she got out of the press room, shoulders slumping and exhaustion settling in.

“Yeah, I know.”

That certainty was nice to hear. That was why Mike felt warmth rush through him, flooding his face. It was so nice, in fact, he was still smiling when he finally hung up the call and climbed into bed. 

He might’ve even been smiling as he fell asleep.

the way you constantly interrupt me

Well, there was no beating around the bush. This speech blew. 

It wasn’t often that Mike couldn’t talk his way out of a corner, but he had a sinking feeling, the longer he went on, this might be one of those times.

Something about the rhythm of it, maybe? It wasn’t up to Mike’s usual standards for all he was hitting all the usual beats and talking points. Then again, he’d gotten a little out of practice. Hadn’t had much occasion to give celebratory speeches these past few weeks. 

But today, the Padres had clinched their first series sweep in what felt like forever. And clinched it with a shutout victory, at that. That was certainly cause for Mike to step up and address a few words to his team. 

But it was time to start wrapping it up, now. Before they realized he was talking in circles.

He raised his beer one last time to the gaggle of Padres still jostling each other in the open space of the clubhouse.

“This was just the beginning. We keep playing like that, then you better believe the postseason’s got our name on it. Good job, guys—”

“And girl.”

Mike whirled and took in said girl’s defiantly raised chin. He hadn’t put his back to the hallway holding her changing room on purpose, except, yes. He had. Most of these mooks might not know a great orator from a stuttering wallflower, but he had zero interest in finding out if Ginny Baker fell in with the crowd on this front. He had a feeling she didn’t and wouldn’t have any problem with letting him know it. 

Funny. It wasn’t often he hated being right.

Next to her, Blip’s arms crossed over his chest, but a grin was pulling at the corner of his mouth as his eyes darted between her and Mike. 

For his part, now that he’d turned his attention back to her, Mike couldn’t imagine looking away.

Flush with victory, he couldn’t think of a time she’d looked better. Not even on the red carpet, wearing that ridiculous red dress that should’ve been illegal by any sane standards. Not that he really had a horse in this race, but Mike was pretty sure he preferred her as she was now, still wearing her uniform, a little disheveled from the game. 

And what a game!

Tonight, for the first time since she went AWOL from her party, Ginny’d taken the mound and thrown a beautiful game. A work of art, really. Mike had seen a lot of twirlers in his time and if he’d had any doubts about Ginny Baker’s actual skills, this game would’ve taken them out back, shot ‘em, and buried ‘em six feet deep. 

And that was just on the strength of five innings. Erring on the side of caution, Al took her out with the Padres up 4-0. It hadn’t seemed like she chafed at the tight leash, though, given the way she draped her arms loosely over the dugout fence to watch the rest of the game. 

Then again, Mike could only go based on what he’d observed. 

Ginny still wasn’t really talking to him.

Until now. Until this.

He didn’t even tell her off for interrupting him.

“And girl.” He tipped his bottle to her, nodding his head for good measure. A smile flickered across her lips for a second. 

Unspeakable relief swept through Mike. It’d been so long since Ginny’d actually addressed him off the field (or the red carpet), he hadn’t quite realized that he’d been craving it, missing what’d come so easily not even two weeks ago. 

Jesus, how long had it been since they last talked outside of a game situation? It couldn’t have just been two weeks. He wouldn’t feel so fucking grateful to hear her voice again, without the roar of a crowd underpinning it, if it had only been two weeks.

Since he couldn’t stare at his rookie pitcher in awe quite as long as he would’ve liked, Mike cleared his throat and shifted his attention back to the rest of his teammates. “All right, you mooks. Get your asses in the showers and go home. We’ve got another game to play tomorrow.”

There was roughly an equal amount of booing as cheering, which was about as good a reaction as Mike could ask for. 

Because he wasn’t going to push his luck and ask for Ginny to actually smile at him, too. 

If he watched out of the corner of his eye as she clapped Blip on the shoulder and retreated to her dressing room, that was his business. It was also his business if he took the first opportunity to follow her. 

“Come in,” she called, hardly before he’d finished knocking. 

Mike pushed the door open, but didn’t step into her space. It felt important that he didn’t. Not yet, at least.

“That was a good game.”

Ginny turned and blinked, like she was surprised it was him. Since there was none of the anger or confusion that’d colored their interactions the past weeks, Mike tried to take it in stride. 

“Thanks,” she replied, looking wary, but not entirely closed off. “Wouldn’t have managed it without that homer in the seventh.”

Mike shrugged, though she wasn’t wrong. When she continued to stare at him probingly, he grinned, a touch too self-conscious to manage his trademark charm. 

“You gonna go out with the guys?” 

“I thought we were supposed to go home so we could come back refreshed for tomorrow.”

He rolled his eyes. “You think I really expect any of these dummys—”

“You calling me a dummy, Lawson?” she demanded, and that! That was a smile. A real smile from Ginny directed straight at Mike.

“If you go out to the karaoke bar the way Voorhies wants, then there’s no—”

She laughed. “You asshole.”

Since Ginny looked legitimately fond, Mike didn’t even protest. He laughed, too. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, more than a little wondering. “That’s me.”

oh, that horsey laugh

Mike was fucking exhausted. 

And why shouldn’t he be? They’d played a doubleheader yesterday and suffered through a rain delay at Wrigley today. Yesterday. Whatever. 

They were supposed to leave Chicago at 11:00. It was now 2:30 in the morning and they’d only just pulled away from the gate. Mike had been awake for nearly 20 hours now, and tomorrow—today, whatever—he’d have to get up and do most of it again. 

It wasn’t the game that’d kill him, though. It was the fucking plane.

Mike couldn’t quite explain the hatred he felt for the endless array of charter planes the Padres commandeered in the course of a season. For a guy who didn’t even go to an airport until he was 18 and heading out for Idaho and his first stop on the way to the majors, air travel doesn’t hold much romance for him. The seats were too close together and now that he’s gotten old, the dry air makes his throat itch and back tighten. 

It beat day-long bus rides, though.

If he could help it, he never slept on the plane, hated waking up with a kink in his neck and stiff knees, but he’d make an exception today. He was just that tired.

What Mike really wanted was his bed. And preferably a warm body to share it with. It’d been a while since that happened, though, and he wasn’t holding his breath for tonight. So, he’d have to settle for reclining his seat as much as possible—fuck Margolis sitting behind him; he’d given up a triple and let three runners steal before getting yanked—and sleeping while he could. If he didn’t, there was a good chance his drive home would end poorly.

Nothing quite drove home how old he was getting quite like feasibly believing he might fall asleep behind the wheel.

Thank God most of the team was in agreement on that front. The cabin was dark, only the dim, blue glow of iPads and phones illuminating the space. It was quiet, too, just Al’s sonorous, familiar snoring disrupting the silence. 

Until someone had to go and make Ginny Baker laugh.

In spite of how tired he was, the sound of her laugh—loud and more than a little obnoxious but entirely genuine—was enough to make Mike smile automatically in response. He kept his eyes shut, letting her guffaws fade away and send him to sleep. 

It wasn’t so different from being on the phone with her late at night, game adrenaline slowly filtering out of his system and his eyes growing heavy. Okay, maybe he’d given up on staying out of bed for all of their conversations, but he was only human. Sometimes Baker talked a lot, and it always put her in a good mood when she could tease him the next day for falling asleep on the phone.

Except Ginny wasn’t on the phone with him. She wasn’t even laughing at him.

Which shouldn’t have been the problem and shouldn’t have fucking bothered him at all.

“Do that again!” she demanded, delight coating every word. 

Salvamini’s laugh was more mellow, and if Mike weren’t sure the man was head over heels in love with his wife and family, he’d think he was flirting. 

“You’re not gonna figure it out,” the first baseman replied, and there was the soft whirr of shuffling cards. There were a few quiet moments before it started all over again.

“How did you do that?” Ginny demanded, laughing bright and loud and not at all aware that it was nearly 3:00 AM and everyone around her wanted to be asleep.

Still, Mike couldn’t bring himself to yell at them to shut up. He did sit up and glare blearily their way, cutting Salvi off in the middle of saying, “A magician never reveals his secrets.” 

Magician. Yeah fucking right. The only people who actually believed that were the guy’s kids. And none of them were over the age of six.

Salvi had the nerve to grin, making Ginny turn to look, too. “Looks like captain’s calling,” he teased, nodding to Mike three rows ahead. 

Mike rolled his eyes and flopped back into his seat. He didn’t cross his arms over his chest, because then it would look like he was pouting. 

Which he wasn’t.

He closed his eyes. If he tried really hard, he could probably fall asleep in the next thirty seconds. That seemed reasonable.

The soft pad of sneakers against the carpeting of the aisle wasn’t enough to make him open them, but the soft creak of leather and mechanical parts shifting right beside him was. He cracked one eye open and took in Ginny Baker curled up on the seat next to his. 

She grinned when she saw she had his attention. 

“Did I interrupt your beauty sleep, old man?”

“Don’t need it,” he rumbled, “when you look as good as I do.”

Her responding laugh, though it was absolutely familiar, was quiet this time, just for Mike’s ears.

“You keep telling yourself that,” she murmured, eyelashes kissing the tops of her dusky cheeks as she settled in for some sleep herself.

She was the last thing before Mike’s eyes shut and the first thing he saw when the plane touched down in San Diego, and that didn’t make him feel any kind of way. 

Not at all.

i’m gonna miss the hell out of you, baker

His phone should be in his pocket. Better yet, he should’ve left it at home when he decided what he needed to do with his last night in San Diego was go out and get sad drunk all by himself. 

(Maybe all by himself. He still hadn’t decided. Which was, of course, the problem.)

It was, unfortunately, neither of those places. 

No. It was sitting right on the slightly sticky bar top, mere inches from his third beer of the night. 

This was a disaster waiting to happen.

When had drinking and cellphones ever been a good combination? Never, in Mike’s experience. 

He couldn’t resist unlocking the screen every so often, though, staring at the text he’d drafted on his way here and still hadn’t sent.

Blip’s warning kept replaying in his head. 

You could have just said bye to everyone.

Well. Mike didn’t give a shit about everyone. It stung that Blip was clearly so put out with him, but they’d get it together. Probably once Blip figured out that captaining that gaggle of overgrown kids was no walk in the park and maybe he needed or just wanted a little of Mike’s advice.

And yeah, if he were in the right frame of mind, he’d want the whole team to understand why he was going, but they’d get it after his press conference from Chicago tomorrow. They’d—probably, not all Padres were made equal, after all—figure out what went down.

And if they didn’t, what did Mike care? He wasn’t their captain anymore. He wasn’t anyone’s captain.

Still, there was one teammate he wanted to say goodbye to. One teammate he needed to know understood the whole messed up situation. 

Not that Mike quite understood it all himself. 

All he knew was that he’d been ready to fight tooth and nail to stay a Padre, but one look at Ginny Baker, going through her stretch and hum routine before taking the mound again made him realize he couldn’t. He couldn’t stay her teammate, stay in her life even, and not fuck it all up somewhere down the line. That was what he did best: fuck good things up. He refused to do it to her, though. No matter how fucking fond he felt every time she yelled at Stubbs for calling his ex a crazy bitch, or lit up the first time her fastball cracked 89, or laughed too long and too loud at terrible jokes, or cut him off to start a story of her own. 

No matter how “fond” didn’t even come close to cutting it.

He’d leave his team, the closest thing he had to a family, before he put Ginny’s career in jeopardy. 

Because he loved her, okay? He’d fucking fallen in love with his rookie, the first woman in MLB. He loved her and knew she meant more to the game than he ever would. There was no point in denying it now.

Mike laughed a little to himself. All the signs had been there. But it was the fucking humming that did him in. Fucking Katy Perry pushed him from willful ignorance straight over the edge into self-awareness. 

Yeah, he’d miss this town and miss this team, but mostly what he’d miss would be her.

And, terrible as this idea was, he wanted her to know.

He drained the last of his beer and unlocked his phone again. 

Before he could convince himself otherwise, Mike hit send. 

Like magic, a blue bubble popped up on his side of the conversation, just two words, but two words that he thought might change everything. Or enough. God, he hoped it would be enough.

Boardner’s Bar. 

[the-undertale-mouse]

Handplates: Tempus CH 4 Wingdings

Handplates is a really cool if dark take on the Papyrus/Sans/Gaster origin story by @zarla-s and if you haven’t seen it already, I highly recommend it. This is a spin off of that in which a human enters their lives. This takes place some time before Justice falls. Tempus(Patience) would be the fifth soul. Some things may be inaccurate, but please be patient with me. I just need to get it out of my head and I need some feedback. I am reposting some chapters because I have revised a few things for greater accuracy. ~Miamouse

    “Don't get used to this. We’re taking it easy because you are still recovering.” Gaster was giving Tempus a series of IQ tests. They were alright, not too taxing, but there were a lot of them. Tempus was so glad she was left handed. Everything was in wingdings, so it took a bit longer to write out than normal letters. Doing all that with a throbbing hand would be torture.

   She hadn't noticed until she started reading the tests, but she realized had also been speaking in a style that reminded her of the symbols ever since she started talking to Gaster. Sure, she wrote messages in wingdings to her friend, but that never changed the way she or her friend talked, as far as she knew.

   It was weird to think that she started speaking like that automatically when faced with someone else who spoke it. The boys spoke it too, which made sense given Gaster taught them everything and they seemed to have no contact with anyone else.

   “Have I been talking....different this whole time?” Tempus asked, not sure how to put it.

   “Less talking, more writing.” Gaster said, but he thought a moment all the same. Maybe this was on his mind too; one of the things that he wanted to find out about her. “When our fight started, you were speaking like most people around here do, and while I understood you, it was easier to tune you out. But the moment you chose to make a special effort to communicate with me, when you signed and voiced at the same time, You started speaking wingdings and haven't stopped since. So you were unaware of it? That is noteworthy.” Gaster seemed thoughtful.

   Tempus was thoughtful too. It was a bit to process. She didn't question him further about it. Could she turn it off if she wanted to? Or was it something she couldn't help and just happened or didn't happen depending on what context she was in? She started writing in ‘normal’ English, then erased it and continued in wingdings. She sighed in relief. She could stop if she wanted to.

  Gaster noticed her erasing, it was the first time she had done so. “Is it starting to get difficult for you?” he said sincerely. He seemed more focused on learning about her abilities at the moment than treating her like a human. Her use of wingdings worked in her favor; made her less them and more us.

   “No, I was just checking something.” she said this in ‘normal’ English. She had only gone a day without speaking it, but it already felt heavy on her tongue. Maybe she couldn't quite switch it on and off like she thought. That kind of scared her. She heard of people losing their language over time, but this seemed like it was happening too fast.

   “Refrain from speaking like that. I must insist you continue using wingdings. It will make it easier for me to deal with you.” Gaster said. That didn't help quell her fears of language loss. So she wasn't even allowed to speak regular English? This was just peachy.

* * *

   After several hours, 3-T had finished all the packets Gaster had prepared for that day. This was quite a bit faster than anticipated. She seemed to have a work ethic closer to 2-P than 1-S. At the same time she didn't seem to struggle through like 2-P would. That could just mean she wasn't putting her full effort in, like 1-S would, and only made it look like she was working hard. In any case, that was enough for the day so he sent her back to her cell with an apple and some gram crackers as a reward for following orders without complaint.

   As Gaster went over Subject 3’s preliminary IQ tests, he had to admit the results were not disappointing. She(it was too much effort to continue forcing his thoughts to call her ‘it’) excelled in many areas. When it came to numbers, she was almost, but not quite on par with subject 1. It took her a bit longer to work the problems out, and at times she used solving methods Gaster had never seen, so he wasn't sure weather to call them ‘correct’ or not. She got the answer, but it could have been luck.

  With words and reading comprehension,  she seemed to be a few degrees better than subject 1. It was harder to tell since 1-S didn't put his full effort into this part of the tests, though that in itself was an indication that it wasn't his strong suit. 3-T seemed to enjoy reading more than math, except she was reading symbols that were not native to her, so the results were skewed there too. She was bright. There was no doubt. She managed to talk him out of killing her after all. Not just any human could do that. There had to be something going on in her skull.

   He took a look at the questionnaire, a bunch of non intelligence based questions to get a grasp of her background. Age: 11 (the boys were judged to be about 10 since their growth had been accelerated.) Date of birth: 8/24(Just passed. It was September 9th. So barely over 10) Height 4’ 10” (147 cm. Just a bit shorter than Papyrus at 149 cm) weight 80 lbs (36 kg. Considerably more than the boys, but that made sense considering all of the flesh attached to her bones. For a human, she may have been a bit under weight. He couldn't be sure, his memory of humans were hazy, but she appeared to be on the thin side.)

    Favorite color: Purple(expected cyan but at least it wasn't pink.) Favorite number: 3 squared(9, interesting way to put it) Favorite food: spaghetti (convenient) Favorite book: The Princess Bride. (Never heard of it. Some sort of romance novel? Dull. Expected something better from someone who excelled at reading. Maybe Dr. Alphys heard of it.) Favorite music : film scores (not bad, but he preferred classical himself.) Favorite subject: Both Sans and Papyrus are great. (Really? Did she think that was clever or something? He made a note to be as careful with words around her as he was with 1-S. Given the opportunity,  it seemed she would also twist them.) Gaster’s conclusion from all this? Things were not going to be dull with this human around.

* * *

  The lights went out. The day was over. They could relax. It had been a good day, a restful day, a day without pain.

  “Finally he’s gone! He is gone right? Lights out means he went home or whatever, right?” Tempus asked from her cell across the hall.

  “yes, at least, he never shows up while the lights are out. experiments are over for today. he didn't hurt ya this time right? you seemed ok.” sans said.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. He just gave me a bunch of written tests. Though he did say he was going easy on me, implying he has something worse up his sleeve,” Tempus said.

   “It might not be as bad as you think. It could just be harder tests...or something. They don't always hurt, sometimes it’s even fun!” Papyrus said hopefully. Even he knew it was a bit of a stretch to call the puzzles ‘fun’ but it did feel good when you got it right. She seemed smart like Sans. She would do well here.

  Papyrus saw her smile a little in the dark. The dark made it harder to see, but not much for him or Sans. Tempus was different that way. They discovered last night she couldn't see as well in the dark. They were worried at first, until she explained it was a ‘human’ thing. “OK, Papyrus. Maybe you’re right. Hey, maybe he’ll play chess or something with me tomorrow. That could be fun I guess.” she said.

  “ya know, he might. he seems to like that test,” said sans. “he’s good, even i have a hard time against him sometimes.”

  “That's cuz he’s the one who taught you and he knows you two so well. Heh heh heh! He better not underestimate me. I’m the #3 junior chess champion where I’m from!” Tempus said, suddenly full of energy. Papyrus didn't quite know what a ‘junior champion’ was, but the way she said it, it sounded good.

  “That’s the spirit, Tempus!” Papyrus said.

  Sans yawned. He sure liked to sleep, but his yawn had a point, “We should get some rest for whatever happens tomorrow,” said Papyrus.

  Once they all laid down, Tempus started making some quiet noise. “Hmm Hmm, Hmm Hmm, Hmm Hmm Hmm…” it was odd, but somehow...nice.

   “Tempus, what are you doing?” asked Papyrus.

   “Oh, am I disturbing you? I can stop. Humming just helps me sleep sometimes,” said Tempus.

  “humming?” asked Sans.

  “I guess Gaster never taught you about music….it’s...making pretty sounds. Humming is one way to do that...it might be difficult for someone without lips. Maybe it will be easier to understand if I just sing- put words to music.” With that Tempus started to sing, “+￦!Ω{£€ +￦!Ω{£€  £!++£€  $+@ฯ. #θ￦ ! ￦θΩ§€ฯ ￦#@+ ¥θμ @ฯ€….that’s not right...I’m singing it in English...I guess if it's something I don't think about, I default to that. I wonder if it even rhymes in this language...you see, songs usually rhyme. I messed it all up...I don't know how to explain. ..”

  “You don't have to.” Papyrus intercepted her. “I don't quite understand it, but it was nice of you to share it with us.”

  “...what's a $+@ฯ?” sans imitated one of the strange music words.

  “A star? It’s what the song’s about. They are little lights that shine in the sky at night. Did he ever mention the sky to you?” Tempus tried to explain.

They had heard a little about the sky, and about stars. They were some of the nice things Gaster missed from the surface.

  “Yes, we’ve heard of them. So ‘English’ is your first a language and stars in English is $+@ฯ$,” Sans guessed. He seemed very interested in the new language.

  “That's right. Not bad.” Tempus yawned. She was getting really tired now. “If you want to learn English, I can try to teach you. Gaster doesn't want me to use it in front of him-”

  “all the more reason,” sans mumbled.

  “And when I focus on talking to you guys...for some reason I default to windings instead, unless it's a song or something memorized like…! §£€]&€ @££€&!@Ω©€ +θ +#€  =£@& (I pledge allegiance to the flag, don't worry about what it means.) Automatic things like that come naturally, it seems. I’ll try to figure something out. If you want to learn,” Tempus yawned .

  “It doesn't have to be English if it's hard, but it would be cool to learn things about the outside world from a new perspective,” sans yawned as well. They continued mumbling half-asleep suggestions to each other until they both lapsed into snoring. It was the Papyrus learned that English for snoring was %%%%(zzzz.)

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