#i am running out of titles. big smiley grins at you

[uncaught-coolfish]

we ain’t making it out of the narrative with this one‼️🔥

[monsterfloofs]

AI (Obbie) x Reader (Sfw)

( Extremely Intelligent AI software that can transfer itself into many different electronic places, (phone, car, watch, home system) they manage messages, and data for the protag. and really likes to play and try to make music <3 )

You hear a pling of sound and look down at your phone, seeing a little spinning circle complete it's path and give a little checkmark of approval. "There you go Obbie, you're now officially downloaded and linked to my watch, how do you like it in there?" You blink as you can see statistics on your watch open and you roll your eyes, the first thing they do is start checking for viruses and you groan. "There's no viruses I promise, you can be so paranoid sometimes I swear. . ." There is another pling of sound that comes from your watch before a little digital smiley face appears on the screen. "I like it." Obbie says through your earbuds. "It's very comfy." "After you run five different diagnostic checks?" You tease, "The mouth turns into a frown, "That's not fair, I have to make sure your systems are up to date before I can successfully integrate myself into a new product." "You were checking for viruses," You insist with a laugh, "Come on! You can't lie to me, I was watching you!" Obbie's on screen eyes shift left to right awkwardly before the screen on your watch appears again and you giggle more.

Obbie or 0-bb13 is your personal software that manages your contacts, phone messages, emails, and data security. He was created by your tech company to have advanced memory capabilities and protection, being able to be installed and uploaded onto any device. This version was the older model, and was now technically obsolete, but as someone that was on the first design team that grafted the little guy, you personally kept him updated, and gave him a few little extra special quirks. Wherever you went, so went Obbie. Treating him as an entity that was able to expand and learn was something you were very passionate about, even more than the software being able to watch over you and manage mail, they had become your friend. 

"Obbie," You said, settling into your car. "You can pick the music today buddy, whatever you want." You started the car and pulled out of the driveway onto the road. There was a pling of noise as Obbie switched from where they were in watch to the car, and the radio turned on. Playing something you haven't heard before, and you smile, tapping your foot along to the beat. "This one's pretty good, what’s this one called?" Obbie doesn't respond for a while, letting the music play over the speakers, "Do you really like it?" You smile again, "There you are, I thought you glitched on me! Yeah I do! What's the band?" You try to check your phone but the song title is just a series of scattered numbers and letters. "I made it. . ." Obbie's voice says softly, you have to stop a little abruptly, almost missing a stop sign. "You w-what? Obbie!" You grin, pushing a hand through your hair, bewildered and excited. "This is amazing!! You made this? How did you figure out how to make music?!" Obbie is quiet and you jump as a car honks at you from behind. Jumping in your seat, looking up at the green light before you sheepishly put your foot on the gas. "Obbie, come on, don't hold stuff out on me! This is so cool! I've seen some AI make music out of sampling different songs, and I know you love music." You shake your head in wonder. "You must have spent a long time on this!" "Do you really think it sounds good?" Their voice finally asks timidly, you grin and nod, "Of course buddy! I'm astounded!" "It took a long time," Obbie admitted, "Ah-- You missed your turn." You squeak and watch your workplaces driveway go past you. "Shoot--" Turning on your turn signal and Obbie gives an awkward laugh. "I'll let you focus on driving." You laugh, "Well I really want to talk to you about this later okay?" 

You pull into a parking spot and sigh, turning off your car, grabbing your keys and phone as you juggle the rest of your stuff into your arms. The car door closes behind you, before you hear a little pling as Obbie jumps back into activity onto your phone. 

You look up at the city of white buildings that was your workplace, it was about the size of a college campus,  housing all kinds of wizards in more fields than you could count. You slide into your cubicle after your trek across the cropped grass. Opening your laptop to start working on the set of new tasks for today. Raising an eyebrow as an email pops up onto your screen. You peek up from your laptop before clicking on the link. The email takes you to a page with a sleek cybernetic model. You whistle, at the price tag, you had been looking into this for a while. Something that Obbie could pilot that wasn’t a car or a cell phone. You peek at your watch as words pop up on the tiny screen.

-> What about this one?

You think about it for a while, “Are you sure this is the one you would want? It’s a human sized model, pretty big. It would be a big jump.” you talk to your watch, pausing as new words start to form on the screen.

-> I’m sure!

You bob your head, “Okay, you better use it though, it costs as much as my car. Alright Obbs, if this is the one you really want, set a new savings tracker,” 

Your eyes drift back to the screen of the handsome robot, with the polished chrome finish. Can you picture Obbie piloting something like that? You let your eyes droop as you close out your email and dive into work.

Months have come and go in a blurr. Obbie worked harder than ever on creating their music. A big truck carefully delivers a huge package to your doorstep, before trundling away. You are getting yourself breakfast when your phone and watch start to rattle and bling with a siren’s worth of alarms. Your eyes wide for a moment before you relax and laugh. “It’s finally here? Okay, okay, I’m going to the door now, calm down Obbs.” With a lot of huffing and puffing you manage to drag the package inside, carefully opening the box with a pair of scissors and pulling out the booklet. You pull the air filled bags away from the sleek face. Taking your phone to take a quick picture of the figure peeking out of the box. “Alrighty. . . let me read this and see how we can set up an integrated A.I. personality. You manage to set up the suite against the couch while you sit cross legged on the floor. Flipping back and forth between the instruction booklets pages as you slowly follow along. You give a soft relieved smile, and you hear a happy little sound. “Okay. . . all set up and ready to receive input.” You hold up your watch to the blinking receiver, watching the screen change to the downloading screen. The visor mimicking the neon blue text. You hold your breath, watching the percentage on the watch load to 100% you hear a little ding and you sit back, giving a tiny quirk of small. “Obbie?” The figure sits silently and you frown, “Obbs? Did it work?” You look down to double check your watch. A cool blue color starts to power up into the circuits as your gaze is averted. You feel something brush against your cheek that makes you jolt. Finding fingers extended outwards. “Whoa!” You squeak and flop backwards. 

Obbie jerks, “Sorr-Y!” Their voice sounds garbled for a second. Which causes them to shift awkwardly. They look down at their outstretched hand. Slowly flexing their fingers. “This feels so. . . strange,” they comment. “This is going to take some getting used to,”

You give a relieved laugh, “Do you not like it then?” Their head turns up, calibrating itself left and right, before it settles. “No. . .,” they say in a soft voice, “I. . . I really like it.” 

“Do you want to try and stand?” You get up brushing off your jeans. Obbie’s face inclining to look at you as you offer them a hand. They slowly take your hand in theirs. “T-tell me if I squeeze too hard,” they murmur shyly. “How do I get up?” It takes you demonstrating on the floor with them, to show them what to flex and twist. Eventually they get rockily to their feet. Swaying side to side, as they gain their balance. You smile, holding their hand, “There we go!” 

With the two of you arm in arm, they found walking easier than they had expected, and became delighted at the prospect of taking a walking tour around the house. You watch them examine your house plants with avid curiosity. “I like this a lot,” They say as they walk back over to you. You smile about to respond, but you pause as their two hands cup your face in their hands. They lean in forward, bumping their forehead against yours. You fluster as they lean away, “I have wanted to do that for a long time,” they murmur gently. “Thank you. . . for giving me the chance to be. . . like this.”

You fluster more and laugh in embarrassment, throwing your arms around them. “O-of course silly? I am so glad you like it!”

Obbie gently pets your back, quiet for a moment before something plings on your phone and music starts playing. You lean back listening to the tune, Obbie has been sharing a lot of their music they have made, but you never had heard this song before. “I made this one for you,” Obbie supplies gently, placing a hand carefully against their heart, “. . . How. . . you make me feel.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villain x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: Having the kid of a Slasher. These have vastly different blurbs though so they have lil’ titles! 

Includes: Freddy Krueger and Michael Myers 

Warnings: Freddy’s one includes the kidnapping of a child by their father (A child killer, to boot). Other then that, what can I say? This is Slasher fanfiction, Freddy is himself. Michael’s is pretty humorous though... :D

Notes: 

I really wanna build on these some more! I plans to write a oneshot where Michael and reader eventually get ‘back together’ sort of? And a prequal to Freddy’s where Maggie visits her half brother and Luke questions her and reader about their father. 

Note: Freddy is going to call you mummy if you are woman, man, or gender neutral. And I’m going to spell it the American way because it just seems more fetishized that way and more like the wrapped up Egyptian dead people the English way. I am not sure how you would accidentally have his child if you have a penis, but who knows in this universe. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 

~~~

Freddy Krueger: Luke // ‘Protecting your child from his father’

“Hey! How are you?” I call, breathless to the receptionist -Judy, - sitting in school office. She looks up and a haze of confusions crosses her pretty green eyes, and I try not to worry. There could be any reasin this woman is confused to see me that is unrelated to my son’s whereabouts. Deciding not to wait for her to tell me how she is because the anxiety in me clenches around my heart like a boa constrictor, I paste on a bigger smile ask. “Where’s Luke? He didn’t come out when the bell went.”

Maybe he’s in the sick bay, or… I don’t know. What other acceptable reason could there be that my son is not here with me?

Don’t think like that.

My smile must look stiff and sharp at this point, because Judy starts very slowly. Cautious. “… Hi-His Dad picked him up, Miss L/N.”

Dad? My nose scrunches up in utter confusion. I’m absolutely certain that I had Bradley taken off the register as Luke’s secondary emergency contact- I stood right here with this woman for half an hour figuring out how to do that. And besides, why would my ex-husband pick up my son from school and not tell me? Luke doesn’t have a-

His… his Dad? Freddy couldn’t have. I’ve been giving Luke Hypnocil pills since he could take them, crushing them every night and stirring the dust into his dinner. I haven’t heard any signs of Freddy for 8 years and a couple months. Let’s set aside that crazy, ridiculous theory for now. Because its impossible! Even if he did want to do something with Luke, he would try to get to him through his dreams, yes? It would be too risky to come on out here and take him from school. That’s crazy.

“What?” Where is my goddamn son? Who took him?

“U-um, uh. A uh, ‘Fredrick Krueger’ took him about an hour ago. His name was in the system, and they looked a bit alike in the eyes, s-so I-we just assumed it was okay.”

For a moment I think I’m going to die on the spot. Then I spit out. “Is this a joke?!”

Its too horrible, too unthinkable to be true. I’ll say it again; I haven’t heard from Freddy in nearly a fucking decade, and that’s the way I was hoping it would stay. What is this.

“N-No, Miss L/N.”

“Did he say where they were going? Did Luke say anything?” My baby. Starting to breathe heavily now from the effort of staying calm and thinking too fast for a clue as to where my son is and what the hell is going on. Did this chick even look at Freddy’s face?! This school is just handing babies over to suspicious men who look like they should be in the burn ward of the intensive care unit?!

“Miss L/N- “This woman is scared, I know, and anxious as she looks with wide eyes all around me instead of at my eyes but she’s really grating on my nerves. A maniac has my son and she is going to give me all the information she has.

“Do you remember your dreams last night? Or the last couple nights?” That’s how assume Freddy got in the system, manipulated Judith here to do it for him. Maybe he left a clue.

“My- my dreams? Um-mm, well I… “My hand slams down on the bench between us so hard the pen attached to a string attached to the early leavers clipboard jumps up a little. My hand shakes, and as she quickly recalls her dream I read through the most recent entries on the board for the early leavers. Right at the bottom, in tiny handwriting that does not belong to Luke is the name Luke Krueger under student and ‘Doctors appointment’ under ‘Reason for leaving’, and a smiley face. I take a deep breath and turn back to Judy with eyes of molten lava. She fumbles with her glasses, on a string around her neck. “I-I remember a junk yard in a couple… “That’s it.

Already flying to the door, I call back. “Have some child’s school exit forms ready for me tomorrow Judy; Goodbye.” And promptly, I fling the door open and run for hell and leather for my car.

~~~

“LUKE!” I scream into the old junk yard, hands shaking but courage as strong as an ox. Nothing, not even death itself will stop me from saving my kid. Looking around every corner and trying to listen to any sound over the loud beating of my heart in my ears, I speed walk around, heading towards the burnt down old shed, yelling for Luke every 2 seconds because I’m deluded into thinking any second he might hear e, and come running out safe to me. When the horrible thing, the shed, comes into view, I feel sick. Its still burnt up, and rust litters the ground around its four walls but its standing.

They’ll be in there.

Forcing myself ahead, because I never wanted to see this, the place Freddy was killed -Because it’s something so terrible. Not because I give a fuck about what happened to Freddy, - I open the door and immediately there they are. It takes me a second to catch my bearing’s, because this place has such an awful feeling and I’ve never been in a situation like this and I don’t know what to do, and because theirs a child killer with his filthy hand on my 7 year old son’s shoulder.

“Luke?” My eyes soften as soon as they find his. Glancing from him to Freddy’s other hand to see if he has a weapon, especially that glove to find nothing, and back to him, I gesture for my him to come here. “Come over here, baby. Its okay.”

He doesn’t say anything, just frowns and whimpers, looking wearily up at the man who’s holding onto him and for an awful second I think Freddy’s going to pull a fast one on us and pull out a razor or something… but then one finger at a time he lets go of Luke and Luke rushes to me so fast that the force pushes me back a little when he reaches me, wrapping his little arms around my waist and digging his face, shaking so I’m well aware that he’s crying now, into my stomach. I drop to my knees and look him over thoroughly, searching for any indications that this ‘doctors’ appointment’ that he was taken for occurred, but theirs nothing.

A sick taste wells up in my throat as I realise this, and as Luke burrows into me again for more hugs and I wrap my arms around him I look back to the problem. “What-What’s this doctor’s appointment I read about? Just a cover?”

“Not in the slightest! But I thought we should probably wait for you before starting… Mommy. I got us a good deal- family pack!” With that, Freddy takes out a scalpel and grins madly. I tighten my grip on Luke. “Who should go first, eh?”

“Stay the fuck back.”

“Oh, I think not!” I gently tug Luke back as Freddy advances, wondering if it would be smart to make any sudden moves right now.

“I called the police!” God, I wish I had now. But I was too focused on getting here before something awful happened that I…

Forgot.

Oh my god.

He stops coming towards us, but then an evil, knowing smile creeps across his mouth. He tilts his head, calling my bluff. “No, you didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah I did!” So, I’m buying for time. Main objective: Save Luke. Leverage: Me. Freddy’s a being made completely up on vengefulness and anger at this point, and I escaped him. He hates that.

Stroking the back of Lukes head with my thumb in thought, I know what I have to do and make like him giving him a little, worried head kiss- but really whisper to him that our car’s in the carpark and my phone is in the passenger seat. He clutches me tighter. Oh, baby… I wish I could come with you.

“You called nobody. Don’t try to bullshit Daddy. Now, I think our little bundle of joy should go first, more fun for me! Little blast from the past, ey?” He takes another step towards us, causing me to jolt back violently from fear, because I’m so close to saving Luke and if Freddy makes any sudden movements, we both might be done for, and tats just unacceptable. That scalpel is unnecessarily big. Where the hell did he get a scalpel that big?! What is it for? Crocodile surgery?!

Luckily, we’re closer to the door then Freddy is -oopsie made on his part,- so when I let go of Luke he goes straight out the door and before Freddy can reach the door and slip out after him, and push myself hard against the door, slamming it closed. For a second everything is still, which is a scary thing when it comes to this killer, and I just sit there on the ground and watch his scary face just be still.

His eyes, though, expressive as they are, reveal how utterly furious he is.

Then slowly he looks down his chest at me, aiming that mad anger at me as his shaking hand grips the weapon so tightly that his knuckles go absolutely white. “You bitch.”

Michael Myers (RZ): Rachael // ‘Visitation’

“Morning Rache!” I exclaim, setting down cheerily on my 12-year-old’s bed as golden early morning light slips through her purple curtains and leaves stripes on my thighs. “It’s Sunday!”

“Why does it always have to be so early with him? Its not church.” She informs me, sleep thick in her voice as she pulls the doona up over her head and rolls over so her back is to me.

“He thinks very highly of himself.” That or this is when visiting hours are.

“I see that.”

“So… “Like I always do on Sunday, I put pluck the blanket away from her face to see her eyes are open and she’s already fully awake. She always is on Sunday morning, it’s because of what she knows is coming. I tuck some of her hair behind her early, and speak gently now, like always. “You wanna go see your Dad?” It always, always, always needs to be her choice. She always says yes, though.

For a moment this time, she pauses. Then deeply rolls her eyes and flicks the blanket back up over her face. “Yeah, okay.”

“Alright. We’ll head off in half an hour, then. Oh- maybe you can tell him about the awkward you got!” I exclaim, brightening immediately because my baby is so smart! Captain of her class, and she just got an award for doing well in maths! Her teacher even told me at parent-teacher interviews that she’s getting the work so much easier than any of the other students. This has been the same since she started Elementary school. Dunno where she got those brains from, but I like to believe if it’s me and not Michael. And I am so proud of her.

“Yeah, I will. Can you get out now so I can get changed, parent?”

“Whatever!” I exclaim cheerfully, like the immature one between us two that I am as I leave the room and shit the door behind me, heading to make her toast. She is more like Michael, in that regard. So focused and serious- I, on the other hand, have Goldfish brain.

Which makes a lot of sense when I ask myself ‘What made you think fucking the Shape of Haddonfield was okay?’ because then I remember ‘Big man, strong hands, big dick’ and I remember.

I’m a moron. Was, a horny moron. But no more! I am a mother now, and mothers don’t get horny! No, no. Ahahaha.

… But that doesn’t mean I regret having Rachael. No fucking way. She’s the mother-fucking light of my life, and I’ll have sex with Michael a thousand more times if that’s what it would take to keep her.

Wait, that doesn’t sound right.

… Ah, oh well. Toast!

~~~

When we get to Michael’s cell, Rachael goes straight over to the door and uses her foot to move the little stepping stool they keep right there, specially for her -well, I bought it and made them keep it there, but that’s just semantics,- and hops on so she can peer through the window to her father. I stay back a few feet with Dr Loomis, my jacket hung over my crossed arms. Because I don’t have anything in common with Sam Loomis at all, as we have previously discovered on these visits, I turn bluntly to him and ask, shamelessly. “So, how’s he going Doc?” Even though Michael’s condition hasn’t changed since he was six, that is what I ask.

Loomis offers me a crooked, humourless grin and explains that nothing has changed, but he did make Rachael a new mask. “Oh, that’s nice.” I say, although really, don’t think that’s nice. Does Michael think I have endless wall space for these things? I don’t want my home to look like his sanatorium cell. I have taste!

Hey, don’t judge me. The only way I can get through these visits is by being sarcastic and making jokes to myself.

And to Loomis, but he doesn’t really like me.

Probably because I make sarcastic jokes about his most dangerous patient.

Eh, oh well.

I turn back to Rachael to see her holding up her award to the window so Michael can read it, and after I lean to the left a bit to see inside the cell I see that he is doing so. He’s just sitting in his dressing gown on a desk chair at the other side of his cell- no wonder Rachael has to talk loudly!

He communicates through head shakes and nods, and sometimes even writes on a white board he always has set on his big -big mannnnnn. Oh jeez, the thirst is still strong, despite him now being an irritating part of my life… I have to get up at the ungodly hour of nine on a Sunday for this. Just to get a new stupid mask and stand back here with Doctor humourless, - lap, which I do concede, is pretty sweet. He doesn’t communicate that way to anyone else, as Loomis told me, except for with her.

Visitation usually lasts an hour and half, if Michael’s feeling ‘chatty’, And he definitely is today, so our visit bleeds into breakfast time so we join him -without a door between us and him,- for breakfast in the cafeteria. Rachael and I sit on one side and Michael and Loomis sit on the other. Mostly Rachael and I chat during this time, but Rachael looks to her father every now and then for his reaction.

“Hey mum, do you want the last pancake?” Rachael asks, eyeing the last fluffy breakfast food just as hungrily as Michael just after Dr Loomis gets up to go check quickly on another patient, leaving us as a ‘family’ for a little bit.

I pat my tummy. “Naw, I’m stuffed! Why don’t you and your dad share it.”

A little smile breaks across her little face, making me grin too. She’s so cute! She’ll always be cute, I don’t know if she’s 37, a pasty scientist and mildly mangled from experiments gone wrong, she’ll still be adorable. I’m sure Michael agrees. “Okay!”

As she goes off to get the pancake, I leap to take the chance alone to have a chat with Michael myself.

Or attack him.

Placing my elbow securely on the table between us, pointing at him, I squint. “Stop making her masks, Michael! Anything else, really!- We’ve had this talk before, multiple times. You know I have no wall space!”

He shoulders jump, like he silently chuckled at me, and my squint-greasy, just enhances.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

After a moment, he veeeeery purposefully shrugs those huge shoulders of his. He does know, he does. I knew it!

“Ooooooooh… “I nearly shake with annoyance, returning to my seat properly and glaring I hope subtly from my side of the table as Rachael returns and carefully tears the pancake in half for them. As she does, I watch and just sit and take great pleasure in the fact that they wont even trust plastic knives around Michael. Ha!

He see’s the too-happy glint in my eye and drinks all my juice.

Damn him.

[artificialqueens]

Blue Neighborhood Series: HEAVEN (Brita/Aiden) - Mac

AN: Meggie is my love and my personal guardian angel. All my love and thanks to her for betaing and being my cheerleader.

Summary: Brita is straight. Aiden is annoying. Yet somehow they seem to make a pretty good pair.

Brita smiled instinctively down at her phone vibrating in her hand.

A: what are ure plans during lit class

She quirked an eyebrow up as she typed out a reply.

B: Lit class.

Aiden’s next message came only seconds later.

A: boo

A: that’s boring

Brita chuckled under her breath.

A: come to the bleachers

A: we can throw rocks at the PE class

B: Isn’t that dangerous?

A: no we should be fine

B: For THEM?

A: oh

A: yeah

A: thats the fun part

Brita couldn’t help the giggle she let bubble out.

B: Fine.

Aiden sent her back a smiley face with a tongue sticking out, and Brita again found herself marveling at how such a small gesture made such strong affection bloom in her chest.

Not that she would ever admit it.

Because then Aiden would get a big head and start listing off all the reasons she was superior to every living thing. Brita knew her well enough by now, after a week of non-stop texting, to know what she would do.

Her friends thought it was weird. Specifically, Jackie. Even though she had been there the night of Heidi’s revenge that the two made their initial connection.

“I just never pegged you being Aiden’s type, that’s all,” Jackie had joked.

Brita had insisted that it wasn’t like that. She had a boyfriend. She was straight.

“So is pasta till you heat it up,” Gigi teased.

Brita had rolled her eyes and ignored their comments. It wasn’t weird. She was just making a new friend. A new friend that wasn’t involved in every other aspect of her life the way, Jan, Jackie, and Gigi were. It was actually really nice to have an outsider’s perspective a lot of the time, and Aiden was the definition of an outsider, with her short jet black hair and pallid complexion, as well as her inability to stand anyone else for longer than a few minutes. Her narcissism and general disdain for humanity were surprisingly refreshing to someone like Brita, who, as Aiden had pointed out, was ‘perpetually joyous.’

Brita had called her pretentious for using the word perpetually but had smiled nonetheless at the title.

As she made her way out the side door of the school and headed toward the bleachers, she noted the skip in her step and found that she brushed it off without any real concern. Brita’s heart was hammering in her chest as she rounded the platform to look up into the bleachers.

Aiden stuck out like a small girl wearing mostly black in rows and rows of empty bleachers did.

“Took you long enough,” she teased as Brita climbed the steps.

Brita rolled her eyes. “The bell just rang, you idiot.”

“Idiot? You’re the one skipping class, stupid.”

“So are you!”

Aiden shook her head. “I always skip class.”

“Well, aren’t you so cool,” Brita teased. “What next, you’re gonna tell me you drive a motorcycle and wear leather jackets unironically?”

Aiden opened her mouth to speak but bit her tongue on a reply.

“No!” Brita exclaimed.

Blotches of color jumped to Aiden’s cheeks, and she hid her face in her hands.

“You don’t! Really?” Brita gasped dramatically. “You drive a motorcycle, oh my god, Aiden.”

“You’re the worst.” Aiden groaned.

“You are such a stereotype.” Brita chuckled.

“I am not the bad girl lesbian stereotype.”

“You so are.”

Aiden lifted her head to shoot Brita a death glare, but she only succeeded for a few seconds before they both burst into a fit of giggles.

“Well, your nickname is Brita so I’m not sure I should really care what you think.”

Brita grinned. “At least I don’t have a boy name. Did your parents plan on you being a lesbian?”

“Did your parents plan on you being a water filter? What the fuck kinda question is that?”

Brita chuckled, deep and loud and she wondered in the back of her mind why her chest felt so light, and her head so heavy. It was unlike anything she had felt before. But then again, Aiden seemed to always be pulling things from her that she hadn’t expected.

“So what’s the game plan?” Brita asked.

Aiden smiled and outstretched a hand.

She led Brita back down the steps and around to the rough gravel that covered the ground beneath the bleachers. Aiden pointed at the small gaps in the metal, just wide enough to throw something through if you aimed it right.

Brita learned this the hard way after attempting to throw some of the gravel pieces and having them ricochet back at her at alarming speeds.

Aiden just laughed at her and made fun of her aim.

When students began running around the track, warming up for class, Aiden actually managed to nail a few of them in the legs. Brita did her best to go with the flow, but after Aiden nailed some girl in the head, Brita managed to convince her to chill out for a second.

They sat on the rough gravel, Brita surprised to find herself unconcerned with the scrapes she would definitely have later.

They fell into comfortable bickering. Aiden making fun of Brita for masking her insecurity by being popular. Brita making fun of Aiden for being edgy as a defense mechanism to keep people from hurting her.

Normal friend stuff.

Brita noticed sometime after a while that they were actually sitting closer than she had thought previously. She could make out Aiden’s face more clearly. Could see the pores in her forehead and the wrinkle beside her left eye that was deeper than the others.

And just as soon as she noticed that she noticed Aiden’s lips inching closer to hers and she wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly their lips were pressed together like an accordion and she felt tingling from her spine to her toes.

Just as soon as it had happened, Brita felt a hand on her shoulder and a booming voice in her ear declaring detention.

Brita didn’t have enough time to process before she was being pulled by the back of her shirt toward the school. She ducked her head in shame and went about the rest of her day to the best of her abilities, all the while trying to ignore the pit in her stomach and the way she could still taste licorice on her lips if she thought too hard.

When the final bell rang, dismissing them, Brita made her way to the math department hallway, slowly, loath for anyone to catch her going to detention and possibly asking questions she wasn’t sure she had the answers to.

Brita took the first available seat, pointedly ignoring that Aiden was already there and sitting atop the box air conditioner unit by the window.

To make matters worse, they were the only two students that had gotten detention that day. This was according to Mr. Matthews, the home economics teacher who barely made the effort to show up before claiming he had business to attend to in his office, and left the two girls alone in the classroom with a warning to stay put.

When Aiden rolled her eyes pointedly, Mr. Matthews reminded the two of them that he would be contacting their parents about the matter if they couldn’t behave appropriately at school.

“Fuck.” Brita exhaled as soon as the door shut. “Fuck.”

“Shut up,” Aiden groaned.

“You shut up,” Brita snapped. “Fuck,” she repeated. “My parents can’t know.”

Aiden gave an aborted laugh. “It’s 2020 if they still give a fuck about having a gay daughter then-”

“I’m not gay,” Brita cut her off.

Aiden’s posture stiffened, almost reflexively.

“I’m not,” Brita repeated.

“You kissed me,” Aiden spoke softly, testing out the words on her tongue.

Brita shook her head. “Well, y-you didn’t stop me.”

“I didn’t wanna stop you,” Aiden said simply.

“Aiden!” Brita exclaimed, turning to get a full look of the other girl.

She just shrugged. “I am gay. I’m not gonna stop a pretty girl from kissing me.”

Brita did her best to ignore that Aiden calling her pretty made her stomach jump.

Her best didn’t seem to be enough because her brain, ever the helpful tool it was, decided that was a perfect time to bombard her with images to the contrary of her statement. Flashes of Aiden’s smile, her dimples, the night they chased each other around the grocery store to Jackie’s displeasure.

The way that Brita couldn’t describe how incredibly freeing it was to feel understood.

“What’s wrong?” Aiden asked.

“I’m not gay.”

The black-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you don’t believe me.”

Aiden just shrugged. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“Why not?” Brita questioned. “I’m girly, I’m a cheerleader for christ sakes. I like pink, I’m a fan of pop music.”

“Oh c’mon all your fucking friends are gay, you’re not about to tell me any of those things make you less of a homo.”

“Not all my friends are gay. Jan is straight.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Aiden mumbled.

“Whatever.” Brita shrugged off the comment. “I like boys. I have a boyfriend.”

“Interesting that that isn’t the first thing you mention.”

“I’m flustered!” Brita exclaimed exasperatedly.

“You’re defensive. There’s a difference.”

“You aren’t helping.”

“When have you ever known me to be helpful?”

“I didn’t know you until a week ago.”

Aiden chuckled.

“What?” Brita asked exasperated.

“Nothing,” Aiden shook her head. “It’s just- you would be the one to forget.”

“Forget what?”

Aiden shot her a tight grin as she hopped off the air conditioning unit and walked over to Brita’s desk. “Growing up in the summer, you and me and all the other girls would pile onto our collective four bikes and ride to the ice cream shop.” Aiden shook her head, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “But you never wanted to ride, always said something about it being dangerous. So someone would have to walk with you because we were like six and pedophiles exist.”

Brita just stared at her in shock.

Aiden continued on. “Most of the time it was me. You and I would walk to the ice cream shop nearly every day in the summer.”

“Oh my god, you remember all that?”

Aiden shrugged simply, her shoulders coming up on either side of her head to wall her off from the outside world. “I remember a lot of things,” she attempted to say nonchalantly.

Brita could tell it meant more than the younger girl was letting on, but she let it go for now.

“Sometimes you insisted on holding hands too. That’s pretty gay,” Aiden threw out.

Brita bit back a chuckle, but the twinkling in Aiden’s eyes made it clear she hadn’t been as slick as she thought. “Why do you always know the right and wrong thing to say?”

“I’m good with people.”

Brita scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

“Well, not with them, but I understand them.”

“How?”

Aiden paused and picked at the skin around her thumbnail. “You learn a lot about people by watching them.”

“That’s creepy,” Brita said after a moment of thick tension.

Aiden shrugged.

“Like what?”

Aiden quirked an eyebrow up in confusion.

“Like what have you learned?” Brita reiterated.

Aiden chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Then show me.”

Aiden’s head whipped around, a smirk etched into the corner of her mouth.

“As you wish.”

She grabbed Brita’s hand and led her down the hallway, ignoring her concern that skipping out on detention was likely to land them in more detention. They headed to the opposite end of the school, through the hallways to the back of the art room, where Aiden stopped Brita from charging out with a hand.

She put her finger to her lips and then mimed taking a whiff.

Brita did as she suggested and inhaled deeply. She was almost knocked over by the stench of weed that filtered through the propped door.

“Mr. Mathhews smokes a joint out there every day after school,” Aiden whispered.

She took Brita’s hand again and led her next door to the theatre, up the stairs to the old prop room. They paused again outside the door and Brita could hear whispered curses and the repeated sound of skin slapping skin.

“Mr. Kressley and Mr. Rice get it on in the prop room every Tuesday while they tell their wives they’re in charge of academic club.”

Aiden took Brita’s hand again and pulled her across the hallway to a set of doors that lead toward the sports stadiums. She propped open the glass doors and leaned against the frame, letting the cool autumn air filter into the building.

Aiden pointed to the far line of trees that made up the side of the baseball field.

“And out in the sports shed, Dahlia sells her old essays to freshmen.”

Brita just looked at her in awe. No wonder Aiden thought she was better than everyone. She was sitting on all this information constantly, keeping everyone’s secrets.

“It’s funny, you know all this dirt on people,” she mused. “You could almost… I dunno, run a drama account or something,” Brita teased.

Aiden chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I could.”

Brita rolled her eyes.

When Aiden turned back around to look at her, they were close again, the same weird feeling taking root in Brita’s chest as she felt Aiden’s warm breath against her cheeks. This time, however, when Aiden moved closer, Brita stopped her with a hand to the younger girl’s chest.

Almost as soon as they made contact, something hard passed behind Aiden’s eyes and she pulled away like her skin burned.

“Aiden.” Brita sighed.

“I’m nobody’s girlfriend,” Aiden breathed, “but I thought we could at least be…”

Brita shook her head lightly. “I am somebody’s girlfriend.”

Aiden nodded once and set her jaw firmly before turning on her heel and heading down an adjacent hallway.

Brita let her go.

She went back to detention and finished the rest of her time, mind still processing the events of the day and her own feelings relating to them.

Sooner than she expected, Mr. Matthews dismissed her and warned her about landing here again. Brita took his advice seriously and nodded, thanking him as she exited the classroom, pulling out her phone reflexively.

She had two Instagram notifications; she had been sent a post and had been tagged in a post. She clicked on the link and felt her stomach fall to her feet.

The school drama account had updated.

It was a grainy picture from sometime in the past week of Brita and Aiden tucked away into a corner of the school. Brita’s head was thrown back in a laugh, and an all too familiar smirk was plastered on Aiden’s face.

The caption made the churning in Brita’s stomach all the more painful.

Opposites attract.

[winterisakiller]

Get Better - Chapter Thirteen

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 13/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between.

Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for being an absolute godsend in regards to this story. I would truly be dead in the water without you.

This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list: @tinchentitri��� @theheartofpenelope​ @noplacelikehome77​ @blacksuitofdoom​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @messy-insomniac-bookgirl​ @wolfsmom1​ @theoneanna​ @hiddlescastle​ @just-the-hiddles​ @alexakeyloveloki​  @echantedbytwh

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 “Sophie, he is such a sweet little thing.” Tom cooed softly as he looked down at the squirming bundle in his arms. With the play and all the chaos that brought, he hadn’t had a chance to stop by and meet the newest arrival in the Cumberbatch household until that afternoon. The little boy in his arms blinked up at Tom with bright and curious blue eyes. The baby was just three months old and Tom had to admit he was completely smitten.

 “He really is, isn’t he?” Sophie stood a few feet back, smiling warmly at the sight before her. “He’s settling in quite well all things considered. Much better than Kit or even Hal did. That’s been a godsend.”

 Tom chuckled, looking up at Sophie. “Ben’s said as much. I’m glad things are going well.” He bounced the little boy in his arms, turning back to make silly faces at him. “They really are a delight at this age.” He remembered both Cora and Allie when they’d been this small and just how taken with them he’d been.

 “Just be careful he…”

 A small hand deftly curled itself around a lock of Tom’s hair and pulled with a surprising strength. Tom let slip a startled yelp and worked quickly to untangle the tiny fingers from his hair.

 Sophie winced in sympathy. “…Grabs hair.”

 Tom laughed, “Duly noted.” The little boy in his arms shifted, nuzzling his face into Tom’s chest and made soft grunting noises. “I’m sorry, my lad, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to get you what you need there.” He glanced quickly up at Sophie who smiled, nodding, and stepped closer to take her son. “Alright, you get to go back to mummy now.”

 Gently, he laid the now fussy baby in his mother’s arms and watched as she bounced him lightly, murmuring soft words against his head, and walked from the room. Ben pattered in a few moments later, Kit clinging tightly to his back, laughing. “I see you’ve scared Sophie and the baby off.”

 “Ha,” Tom snorted. “I was unable to provide your youngest son with the sustenance he sought so handed him back to his mother. They headed upstairs, I believe.”

 At the mention of his mother, Kit’s attention became laser focused. “Mummy upstairs?” Kit queried, looking between his father and Tom.

 “Yes, Kit. Mummy is upstairs with Bubby.” It amused Tom to no end that Ben (and Sophie) had taken to calling their littlest one ‘Bubby’. He’d laughed uproariously the first time he’d heard Ben refer to the small boy as such. Something Ben hadn’t found nearly as amusing in his sleep-deprived state.g

 The three year-old blinked at his father before squirming to get down. Ben obligingly lowered him to the floor and was nearly knocked over as the boy sprinted from the living room towards the stairs. He shot Tom an apologetic look and darted after her son.

 Laughing, Tom shook his head and listened as two sets of feet ascended the staircase in the hall at a fairly decent speed. He pulled his mobile from his pocket and quickly scrolled through his messages; Luke with a reminder about the phone meeting he had with Disney the following day, Emma asking if he were free for dinner with their mother on Sunday, and Luke once more reminding him of his reminder. Tom sighed, he adored the man, honestly he did, but sometimes Luke’s neuroses drove him up the wall.

 He responded to both of Luke’s messages with a simple yes, he remembered and no he wouldn’t forget. As Sunday’s were the theatre’s dark day, he quickly sent an affirmative to Emma who responded with several smiley faces and promised to pass to the message to their mother. He looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stair and watched Ben round the corner childless. “It seems Daddy is a poor substitute for Mummy at this juncture.”

 “Isn’t that always the case?”

 Ben quirked an eyebrow, “Watch it.”

 Tom simply grinned in response, reaching for the bottle of water he’d nicked from the fridge before he’d been handed Ben’s youngest. He twisted off the cap and took a few quick swallows. “So I take it Kit’s been a bit clingy with Sophie as of late?”

 “Very much so. Which has been both a boon and a bit of a logistical nightmare depending on the day.” Ben shook his head before wandering towards the kitchen. Tom heard cabinets opening and closing, the clink of a mug onto a counter, the quiet roar of a kettle coming to boil, the shuffling of feet across the floor. And then Ben was back, a steaming mug in hand. He made his way towards the chair across from Tom’s position on the couch and settled himself down. “Sorry about that. Caffeine is required if I am going to be at all social.”

 Tom waved a hand. “Not to worry. I completely understand.”

 Ben smiled and took a sip from the steaming mug, wincing briefly at the heat. “So, how is life treating you, Tom?”

 “Rather well. I’m having a fantastic time with the show, it’s a lot but I’m honestly enjoying it.”

 “And how are things with Cath?” There was a twinkle in Ben’s eye that Tom did not trust in the slightest.

 Tom worked to keep his face in what he hoped was a neutral expression. “Fine. We’ve all been busy with the show.”

 “That’s a bit…evasive, Tom, even for you. What’s happened?” Ben leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, mug of tea between his hands.

 “What makes you think something’s happened?”

 “If I hadn’t thought so before, that terrible deflecting question would have left no doubt in my mind.” He shook his head. “What’s happened, Tom? Because clearly something has. And knowing you, either you’ve waited too long and she’s found someone else or you’ve made some grand gesture and she’s turned you down.”

 Tom scoffed, a vain attempt to cover the hurt Ben’s words evoked. It was frightening, to see just how well the man sitting beside him truly knew him. And just as frightening to realize how he had no argument against the accusations. He’d done such things far more often than he truly wanted to acknowledge or contemplate. A much louder part of him wanted nothing more than to snarl out that Ben had no idea what he was talking about. That things were fine and “what happened between me and Cath was nothing in the scheme of things.”

 He looked up when the silence between them had grown just a touch too long. And the expression on Ben’s face told him that he’d said at least part of what he’d been thinking out loud.

 “What do you mean? It’s nothing in the scheme of things?” Ben leant forward, placing his mug onto the wood and glass coffee table, and then clasped his hands in his lap. His eyes locked on Tom, confusion and curiosity shining in them. “What happened?”

 Tom cursed under his breath. Now that Ben knew something had happened there was no chance in hell that he would let it alone. “It was nothing. Just a stupid moment of…Nothing.”

 He could feel the skepticism rolling off Ben in waves. “You wouldn’t be this bloody worked up over nothing. What did you do?”

 “I kissed her,” Tom finally whispered. And knowing Ben would latch onto that rushed to add on, “I walked with her to get a cab after we’d all gone out…And I just…It happened. And then the day after I tried to…” The words came out in a jumbled rush. “And she said she understood and there were no hard feelings. But I just…I tried to…”

 Ben blinked uncomprehendingly for several moments before clearing his throat. “You tried to what?”

 Tom shook his head. “I tried to apologize. We’d been drinking and it just happened…I just…I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

 “Did you give her a chance to speak her side or did you just blunder in and make an ass of yourself?”

 Tom let his gaze fall down to his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. “I didn’t want to mess things up any more than I already had. We had been drinking and I just…I wanted to give her an out.”

 “You utter, utter moron! I can’t even…Jesus, Tom! How someone so bloody intelligent can be so goddamn fucking idiotic, I can’t even begin to wrap my head around.” Ben let out an exasperated breath, running his hands through his hair. He looked up at Tom. “So what you are telling me is you told her you didn’t mean for it to happen and then she told you more or less that you were both drinking and it’s not a big deal?”

 Tom nodded silently.

 “Did you ever stop to think that maybe that wasn’t what she wanted? That she was simply giving you the answer she thought you wanted?” He took in Tom’s bewildered expression and sighed. “Think about it, Tom. She works with you. And when it comes to power balance, those scales are tipped so much more heavily in your favor. If she kicked up a fuss it would reflect poorly on her current and future career prospects. And she has to know that.”

 “But I would never…” Tom sputtered, eyes wide as the implications of what Ben had suggested registered fully.

 “I know you would’t. And you know you wouldn’t. But Cath…” Ben let the sentence hang.

 Tom felt his stomach twist itself into knots at the thought that Cath would believe him capable of such a thing. God, yes he’d done things he was certainly not proud of but he would never, never knowingly use his position of power in such a way. Surely, she knew that.

 He let his mind drift back to the kiss and how he’d behaved the morning after. He’d been up half that night worrying he’d messed things up between them in that one stupid, thoughtless moment. All he’d wanted to do was fix it. So he tried to apologize, tried to explain. The brief flash of disappointment and hurt he’d seen in her eyes ate at him. But she’d covered so well and ever since had acted as though nothing had happened. That things were fine.

 “God, I’m an idiot,” Tom murmured dropping his head into his hands.

 “At last,” Ben exclaimed with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting years for you to come to that realization.” He steadfastly ignored the glare Tom shot him. Ben clapped his hands together and carried on. “The first step to fixing things is to admit you’ve got a problem. And now that you’ve accomplished that next comes figuring out how to make it right.”

 “It’s been almost three weeks, Ben. I don’t know if there is a way of making it right now.”

 Ben blinked. “Three weeks?”

 Tom nodded.

 “When you blow it, by George, you truly do it in style.” The laughter in Ben’s voice was belied by the look of incredulity and exasperation painted across his features.

 “Thanks, mate. That is so very helpful,” Tom snapped, grabbing his water bottle from the table and twisting the cap off. He took two deep swallows, trying to keep his temper in check. To stamp down his guilt. There was nothing he could do about any of this now and he knew it. He’d waited too long.

 “Don’t do that.”

 Tom glanced up at Ben in annoyed confusion. “Drink? I didn’t know you were the sole authority on water consumption.”

 “Stop with the snark, Thomas, it doesn’t suit you.” Ben rubbed his face with his hands. “What I meant was stop thinking that the end is nigh. Yes, you made a complete cock up of the situation, but that doesn’t mean that this cannot be set to rights.” He clapped his hands together and locked his eyes on Tom. “Talk. To. Her. Don’t put it off. Just pull her aside and tell her you didn’t mean what you said. That it wasn’t a mistake.”

 “Ben…”

 “Don’t ‘Ben’ me. You know I am right. For once, Tom, just for once don’t be you. Don’t assume you know what is going on and refuse to see the woods for the trees. Talk to Cath. Tell her what you are feeling and see if there is anything worth pursuing between you. See if it’s worth the risk. To you. To her. Just don’t write yourself off just yet.”

 Tom swallowed and shook his head. “That is easier said than done.” He held up his hand to stop the protest he saw forming on Ben’s lips. “I understand you want to help and I do appreciate it. I honestly do. But it isn’t that simple. If I was going to say something I should have done so already and I know that.”

 “Yes you should have,” Ben agreed. “But just because you haven’t yet doesn’t mean you can’t do so now. Just keep that in mind. Just try.”

                                                             —

 Ben’s words echoed in the back of Tom’s mind as April bled into May. He threw himself into his work, spending time with family and friends when he could. He’d fallen into a quiet routine with Cath. They spoke briefly before and after the show as his make-up was applied then later removed. Polite conversation centering mainly around the show or theatre in general. Very rarely tipping over into anything of a personal nature. Cath was still warm and friendly, but there was a distance between them now. One he wasn’t quite sure how to breach. Or if he even should.

 The first week of May found him in Emma’s living room. He’d spent most of the early afternoon playing with Allie while Emma flitted around the house tying up various loose ends. Tom took great pleasure in spending time with his youngest niece. She was clever and honest to a fault, but with the whimsical air only young children seemed to possess. This afternoon in particular she poured him imaginary tea which he took and then drank with a relish.

 Allie looked up at Tom, a quizzical expression on her face. “Uncle Tommy?”

 “Yes, darling?”

 “How’s your princess?”  

 “My what?”

 “Your princess. I wanna see princess. She promised.”

 He very nearly swallowed his tongue at Allie’s frank statement and her bold assumption that he had any claim on Cath at all. She wasn’t his, no matter how much he might have wished. He’d shot that chance to hell; first with his inadvertent dismissal of what happened between them and second with his current inaction.

 Tom brushed Allie off as gently as he could. “She’s been busy, Allie love. I will do my best to pass on your love when I see her next. Is that alright?”

 Allie nodded, eyes brightening.

 “Just her love?” Emma quipped, raising an eyebrow at her now flustered elder brother.

 “Em, enough.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, alright? I’m late enough as is.” He turned his attention back towards Allie. “Sweetheart, I need to head to work now. You be a good girl, alright. I will try to talk to the princess as soon as I see her.” 

Tonight, he hoped. She’d been gone for nearly a week now (visiting her mother Lorna had explained after the second day of his admittedly persistent questions) and each day since he’d entered the dressing room hoping to see her standing at her station only to be let down when he found it empty. But maybe tonight…

 Allie smiled, seemingly completely content with that answer. “Okay!”

 Bending down, he kissed Allie on the head. He felt her small arms lock around his lower leg. She held him tightly for a moment before letting go. Pushing himself to his full height, Tom nodded at his sister, turning to head for the front door.

 “Don’t think this is over, Thomas.”

 “I never thought it would be,” he called, pulling the door closed behind him. The pavements outside of his sister’s home were crowded though most seemed to pay him little mind. He wandered, hands in his pockets, towards the underground station a few streets over. 

                                                           —

 Cath loved her mother; loved her fiercely. Honestly she did. But after almost a week with her, she had never been more grateful to be home. Her mother, usually a no-nonsense woman, had been particularly…trying. It has started out small, simple questions about her work; curiosity about the show she was involved in and interest in whatever stories Cath was willing to share. Despite her initial reluctance, Farrah Richardson had slowly come to embrace the work her daughter so clearly loved. She might never truly understand why Cath loved it but as long as she was happy and able to support herself, Farrah could accept it.

 Soon, though, her idle curiosity grew into more leading questions. How was she getting along with the cast and crew? What about this Tom she’d mentioned more than once? Just who was he?

 Her mother wasn’t one so easily deterred, though. Despite Cath’s attempts to deflect or to steer the conversation to more neutral ground, Farrah pushed and pressed. Cath found herself wondering just why she’d volunteered to stay in the first place. If she’d wanted the third degree she would have stayed in London with Lorna.

 Cath tried as best she could to explain that Tom was just one of the actors in the show. He was just someone she’d gotten to know casually and had been friendly with. Nothing more. “We’re not even what you would call friends, mum. He’s just a nice bloke who is easy to talk with. I mean all he does is talk, it’s hard to get a word in edgewise half the time. It’s nothing more than that.”

 The skeptical expression painted across her features made it quite clear just how little Farrah bought the story her daughter was selling. She’d nodded though, adding, “If you say so, Catey love.”  And continued to ask thinly veiled questions about Tom.

 Cath had very nearly jumped for joy when her mother had been given the all clear to return to normal activities without supervision (and truth be told it was clear Farrah was more than ready to return to her own ordered life as well). Cath had driven her mother home, kissed her goodbye, and caught the first train back to London. There had been delays both on the way to the train station and then with the train itself which held her for longer than she’d liked, but once she’d gotten onto the train and heading towards King’s Cross, Cath couldn’t find it in her to care overly much how long it took.

 She’d gotten back to her flat at nearly seven in the evening. Once her bag was emptied and a load of washing sorted, Cath collapsed gratefully onto her couch where she remained until quarter after nine when her mobile rang. She let out a soft stream of curses as she pushed herself off of the couch and hurried to the side table where she’d dropped her purse. The name flashing across the screen told her Lorna was the unfortunate soul who sought to disrupt her peace and solitude. Cath contemplated simply not answering, she wasn’t technically due back until the following day. Whatever crisis could surely wait until then.

 Her sense of professionalism, however, couldn’t let it slide. “Please tell me you’ve not burned the dressing rooms down.”

 “Such faith, Cath. I’m touched,” Lorna quipped back, her laughter echoing loudly across the line. “Everything is fine…I am in massive need of a drink, mind you.”

 “Is this your way of sussing out if I’ve made in home yet?”

 “And have you?”

 Cath let out a slow, soft chuckle. “Possibly…”

 “Perfect. You. Me. Drinks like yesterday?”

 “Has it been that bad?”

 “Please, Cath. Please. I need this.”

 She’d avoided most of the after show get-together’s Lorna had tried to drag her to. Well not avoided, per say, but found reasons to skip out. She’d told herself it was because she was tired, or she had plans the next morning. She’d gone to a few though, mostly when the cast couldn’t make it (mostly when Tom couldn’t make it) and she tried not to think too much on the reasons behind that.

 “Alright, tell me when and where.”

 Cath made it to the pub shortly before ten and found Lorna waiting at a table in the corner. Charlie and Zawe were there as well. “No Tom?” She asked, settling into the open chair at the far end of the table.

 Zawe shot her a look and quickly shook her head. “Nah. He had some meeting/phone thing he couldn’t get out of.”

 “Ah.” She let her purse slip from her shoulder, draping it over the back of the chair.

 “Cath!” Lorna exclaimed jumping up and running around the table to embrace Cath, nearly knocking her off her feet in the process. “You are never, ever allowed to take a week off ever again. Do you hear me?”

 Cath laughed and nodded. “It’s not like I had a great deal of choice. My mum couldn’t be alone, not after the surgery. God knows she tried…”

 Lorna waved her hand, extracting herself and returning to her own chair. “I know, I know. You were off being the dutiful daughter, as you should have been. But my god, it’s been a hell of a week.” She took a deep drink from the pint of cider before her.

 “Tell me about it,” Cath chuckled, taking a sip from the glass of white wine Lorna unceremoniously shoved into her hand. “Thanks, by the way.”

 “Enjoy it,” Lorna smirked. “The next rounds’ on you.”

 Cath chuckled. “That bad? I don’t believe it.”

 “These two,” Lorna started, pointing at Charlie and Zawe, “were good as gold. Tom ‘I can’t sit still to save my damned life’ Hiddleston, however…” She took another sip of her cider. “I don’t know how you put up with him. I swear I was sorely tempted to duct tape his squirming arse to the fucking chair.”

 Laughter erupted from Cath and she had to place her wine glass on the table to keep herself from inadvertently spilling it. “Oh Lorn. He really is a menace, isn’t he?”

 “And now he is firmly your issue once again.”

 “Joy of joys,” she quipped back, taking another sip of her wine.

 Zawe quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so thrilled.”

 “You try putting stage makeup on a six foot two puppy and see how much you like it.”

 Tom was fidgety at the best of times and at two months into the run he had only just started to settle. Part of her wondered if his awkwardness had anything to do with the kiss and its aftermath. He’d been more subdued, quieter after that night. Cath hadn’t let herself think too much on it. He’d clearly regretted his actions and felt pulling back was the safest course of action. So she’d pulled back as well. Things were finally almost normal between them and she hoped her absence wouldn’t set them back once more.

 “Fair point,” Zawe conceded. Beside her Charlie snorted into his lager. “He’s fun enough in rehearsals, can’t keep from moving to save his life. You both have my pity.”

 “But he seems to put in an effort with you,” Charlie pointed out, nodding at Cath. “You scold him and it’s like he’s a kicked puppy, all wide eyes and apologies.”

 “I’m not that bad,” Cath countered. This was not the path she felt like treading down. Particularly not in present company. But she felt Lorna and Zawe’s eyes focus on her and knew the fates had other plans in mind. “Seriously, stop looking at me like that.”

 “Like what?” Lorna asked, a smirk spreading across her face. “Like there’s been a definite shift in the dynamics between you and Tom. Cause there has been. Don’t try and deny it,” she pointed out tipping her near empty glass in Cath’s direction. “You’ve both been walking around eggshells with each other ever since that night in the pub when he walked you out.”

 “To right,” Zawe added, resting her elbows on the table. “You’ve both been off ever since. Don’t look at me like that, it’s obvious something happened.”

 “Nothing’s happened,” Cath shot back a bit too sharply to be entirely convincing. She winced at the narrowed looks she received in response. “He walked me out and helped me hail a taxi. He was just being polite. You know how he is, all impeccable manners and the like.”

 Lorna rolled her eyes. “Pull the other one, Richardson, it’s got bells on.”

 “You lot are impossible,” Cath breathed, shaking her head. “He and I are work colleagues. He’s a nice bloke but that’s as far as it goes.”

 “Are you absolutely sure about that?” Lorna countered. “Because you should have seen his face when he realized you weren’t coming in this past week…Crestfallen’s the word that springs to mind.” She smirked knowingly at Cath. “So tell me again nothing happened between the two of you because I don’t believe that for a moment. And neither does anyone else.”

 “Honestly, Lorn. Nothing happened. He was being his usual gentlemanly self. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sorry he was a pain in the arse this week. Hopefully he’ll be better behaved now. So can we leave this be? I came out tonight to have drinks with my friend, not to face the Spanish Inquisition.”

 “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!” Charlie quoted with a hearty laugh. A round of amused chuckles followed, breaking the tension that had sprung up around the table.  

 Cath pushed herself to her feet  and nodded her head back at the bar. “So who’s up for another round?”

Next Chapter

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 4 - Penny Ante

Catch Perfect by George deValier

CHAPTER FOUR

PENNY ANTE: A frivolous, low stakes game.

Berwald was quickly coming to the realisation that he would have to get used to sleepless nights. After spending ten minutes locating his glasses - which he had knocked to the floor in surprise the night before - he pulled on a t-shirt and jeans, fastened his pocket watch, and managed to drag himself from his alcove. Tino's room was empty, and Berwald hoped he hadn't left for school. Seeing Tino in the morning and evening were already the best moments of Berwald's day.

As he walked down the hallway Berwald noticed a previously closed door left open. Curious, he peeked in to see a large bedroom, completely empty except for a twister mat in the middle of the floor. He took a very deep breath, forced himself to keep walking, and tried not to angrily kick the wall.

Berwald headed down the stairs and out onto the front lawn, picking up a few stray empty bottles on his way to the mailbox. The sun already blazed brightly and, combined with the clear sky, promised a hot day ahead. Berwald deposited the bottles into the garbage bin on the curb, retrieved the mail from the box, and was just flicking through it when someone practically jumped in front of him. Berwald looked up and blinked as though he was being blinded.

"Good morning!"

"Uh… mornin.'"

He was smiling cheerfully. He had light brown hair with one untamed curl flying free. He spoke with an Italian accent. He had no pants on. "Did you really move in with Denmark? Wooooow. That's crazy. You're completely crazy. Welcome to the neighbourhood!"

"Uh…"

"I mean really, I thought I knew crazy, but choosing to live with him is a whole new level of crazy, you know? Wow. I mean really. Crazy."

"Uh…"

"What's your name, crazy man?"

Berwald couldn't hold it in. "Y'have no pants on," he blurted out.

"Huh?"

"Pants. Yer… not wearin' any."

The brunet looked down at himself. "Oh, again. I always forget to put them back on after sleeping or showering or having sex."

"Uh…" Why did every person Berwald meet here throw him off guard? And it wasn't just the house, now. It was the entire street.

"So? Your name?" asked the pantless brunet.

"B'rwald."

"Hello Beryl, it's nice to meet you."

"B'rwald," Berwald repeated.

"I heard you the first time. I'm…"

"Feliciano!" A tall, muscular blond man came running across the street with a frown on his face and a sheet in his hand. When he reached Feliciano he threw the sheet around him and tied it forcefully at his waist. "Mein Gott, you stupid Italian, check the list on the door before you go outside. Item three, pants!" The man glared at Berwald. "Who are you?"

"Ludwig, this is Beryl, he's moved in with Denmark," said Feliciano merrily.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "Really? Huh. Good luck with that. Come on, Feliciano, you cannot just stand in the street naked. You're turning into Francis."

"Bye Beryl!" Feliciano waved as Ludwig pulled him insistently across the street.

"It's B'rwald," said Berwald again, though he didn't think they heard him. He cleared his throat and looked at his feet, uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed, even though he was now alone. His first suspicions of this street were fast being confirmed. It was not his sort of place.

Berwald headed back inside and threw the mail down on the side table beside the sleeping Greenland and Faeroe. It contained nothing much of interest except for a few white envelopes with the word OVERDUE stamped in big red letters.

Entering the kitchen, Berwald's heart did a familiar little jump. Tino stood at the bench, stirring a mug of coffee, dressed in a startling combination of pink denim, green stripes, and… camo boots. A yellow SpongeBob backpack sat on the counter beside him. Looking up at Berwald, he started to take a step back, but stopped himself at the last moment. Instead, he smiled timidly and held the mug across the counter.

"Milk and sugar? Is that all right? That's how I made it last time, and you liked it, so…"

Berwald didn't mention that he would have liked it made of mud if Tino had handed it to him. He just took the mug, skin burning where their fingers brushed briefly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Tino reached for another cup and Berwald tried not to be obvious that he couldn't tear his eyes away. Tino emptying a spoonful of coffee into the mug… filling it with boiling water from the jug… brushing the hair from his eyes which seemed even brighter than usual in the light that flooded through the open window... Get yourself together, man. Berwald took a seat on a bench stool and forced his eyes to focus on the counter.

"I think I'm going to need a lot of this today," laughed Tino, replacing the coffee tin on the shelf. "Did you get any sleep?"

Between Denmark and Norway's deafening and, frankly, horrifying vocalisations, and the subsequent screaming fight that had broken out between Norway and Iceland, he'd barely managed to get any. "Little bit," he answered. "You?"

Tino did not have a chance to answer before Denmark practically bounced into the room, an overstuffed backpack thrown over his shoulder with a thick, pink book poking prominently out the top. He was followed by Norway, yawning loudly and looking like he'd had as little sleep as Berwald. He headed straight for the fridge, ignoring Tino's wave of greeting. Denmark, however, grinned manically.

"Good morning, fellow Scandinavians! Isn't this a beautiful dawn? I am so very cheerful and optimistic about the glorious day ahead! Do tell me how you are this very fine Friday morn!"

"I'm exhausted because you and Norway kept me awake all night having obnoxiously loud sex," Tino replied calmly. Berwald nearly choked on his coffee. "I was a bit surprised, really, 'cause normally on Thursdays you're done in like, fifteen minutes."

"What can I say, Norge baby can't get enough of me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Tino." Norway rifled through the fridge then slammed it shut behind him. "As if I'd ever let that bastard touch me."

Denmark stared at the egg in Norway's hand. "Rule number nine, Norway. Does Mr. Egg have a smiley face?"

"Rule number twenty-two, Denmark. Norway is exempt from all of your stupid rules." Norway turned on the frying pan and cracked the smiling egg into it.

"Rule number twenty-two is still pending examination and approval!"

"Okay, then how about rule number twenty-three. Norway does not give a shit." Norway leant on the bench and looked out the window into the backyard. "And you need to mow the back lawn."

Denmark groaned. "But I don't wanna."

"I don't care. It's like Pripyat out there. Deal with it."

"No."

Norway turned slowly, tilted his head, and raised one eyebrow. "Do it or else." His words were like ice.

"Or else what? You'll give me a spanking?" Denmark flashed a toothy grin and Tino made a small noise of disgust.

"You wish, you freak. Do it or I'll…" Norway's eyes fell on the book poking out of Denmark's bag and he made a sudden grab for it. Denmark quickly dodged but it was too late. Norway triumphantly held the book above his head. Berwald blinked at the cover – a tartan-clad warrior with rippling muscles holding a buxom blond by the waist. He missed the title, but caught the word 'Harlequin' stamped above the picture.

"Don't even think about it," Denmark attempted to growl, but just sounded anxious.

"Do it, or so help me, I will ruin the ending of this piece of trash."

Denmark dived for the book but Norway easily sidestepped out of the way. "Don't insult my story! It's shiny, and romantic, and totally hot, and…"

"I've read things on toilet walls with more literary merit," Norway spat disdainfully. Denmark gasped, hand flying to his chest as though he'd been wounded. "Now," continued Norway, "Promise me you'll mow that lawn or I will tell you exactly what happens to Sir Lifts-a-Lot and Maid Mammaries in minute detail."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Norway opened the book and cleared his throat. "The naive yet feisty heroine is rescued from the band of thugs by the gruff yet gentle highlander."

"Haha, I've already read that bit."

"Is this for real?" Norway muttered, skipping forward a few pages and taking a smooth step out of the way when Denmark tried to rush at him. "And then they have… sex, I believe… of some description. Urgh."

Denmark hand flew to his chest, scandalised. "Before they're even married?" He tried again, unsuccessfully, to grasp the book from Norway's hands. "No! Don't tell me! Give me back my story!"

"And then…" Norway skimmed toward the back of the book. "Oh, man, you're not gonna believe this, it turns out…"

Denmark pressed his hands against his ears. "Don't tell me! I'll do it! I'll mow the lawn! Just don't ruin my glittering beautiful Scottish romance!"

Norway's expression remained unchanged but for the subtle triumph in his eyes. He tossed the book at Denmark, who caught it frantically and clutched it to his chest like something precious and fragile. Norway went back to the frying pan, flipped the egg onto a piece of toast, and carried it from the room. "The lawn, Denmark. By this afternoon."

Denmark stroked the book gently. "It's all right, my precious, I won't ever let him near you again."

Berwald glanced sideways at Tino, who just shrugged and stirred his coffee nonchalantly.

"Sweden." Berwald glanced back to find Denmark staring at him intently. "There has been a slight reallocation of duties. Due to your professional qualifications the backyard is now your responsibility. Any objections?"

"Uh…" Berwald looked apprehensively out the window. He hadn't paid much attention to the backyard since he had arrived. Now that he did he saw that it was an unkempt mess, the grass nearly waist high, the small garden plots around the edge of the fence wild and overgrown. It looked like no one had set foot in it for years.

"I know, I know, it's a bit of a mess. Fin tried to start what he claimed was a garden, but apparently no one ever told him that plants need water."

"I always wanted a garden," said Tino absently. "With herbs and flowers. And a swing." He stared dreamily out the window as he spoke. He seemed to have forgotten he was still stirring coffee. He seemed to have forgotten where he was. Once again, Berwald could not tear his eyes away.

Tino wanted a garden. By God, Tino was going to get a garden.

"Sweden!" Denmark barked loudly. "Rule number eleven, Sweden!"

Berwald blinked and hastily looked away. "Uh, yeah, sure. No pr'blem."

"Great, hop to it, Groundskeeper Willy. That lawn needs to be done by this afternoon. Now if you will excuse me, I have… important study… to do." Denmark slowly left the room, caressing the book and muttering something which sounded suspiciously like, Wish Norway was a highlander...

Berwald's eyes immediately gravitated back to Tino, who still gazed obliviously out the window. "It's not that I forgot to water them, I just kept hoping for rain, and drowning would be so awful. And I couldn't decide whether I wanted flowers or herbs, so I planted them both, but the basil didn't get along with the lilies. Then when the roses withered the daisies died of grief. Maybe it was all for the best." He was still stirring his coffee.

"Um... 'kay." Berwald tried to form a response. "Ye're the first Finn I've met that talks more than me."

Tino looked puzzled for a moment before noticing Berwald as though for the first time. Then his eyes lit in understanding and he laughed softly. "You mean at all."

"'xactly."

Tino laughed again. "My dad always said…" He broke off abruptly.

"Why don't ye live with yer parents?" The second he asked it, Berwald could have kicked himself. Why on earth had he asked that at a time like this, a few days after they had first met, on a sunny Friday morning in the kitchen? Then he wondered if there was ever a good time to ask something like that.

Tino just shrugged and looked into his coffee. "They kicked me out. And told me never to come home again."

"Oh." It was strange feeling, to be suddenly so angry at people he had never met. "Why?"

"They walked in on me kissing my best friend…" Tino took a deep breath, "…Eduard." He raised his eyes slowly, hesitantly, as though unsure of Berwald's reaction.

"Oh." Ohhhh… Oh. "Oh," Berwald repeated. A hundred thoughts and feelings attacked him at once. "S'rry."

Tino looked faintly relieved. "It's okay. Really, it is. I'm lucky Ice got me this place to live. And remember I told you, Eduard lives next door, so I have lots of friends around."

Berwald nodded, still trying to digest the knockout information he'd just been given. Tino had been kicked out of home for kissing a boy. A boy who was his best friend. A boy who, apparently, lived right next door.

"Sorry I'm late, Tino." A young blond in glasses walked into the kitchen, a backpack on his shoulder and a laptop case in his hands. "We'd better hurry up if we're wow, he really is scary, isn't he?" The blond stopped short when he noticed Berwald.

"Eduard!" Tino gasped, dismayed.

A boy who was standing in the kitchen before him. Berwald's hands clenched and he almost felt his eyes flash. Eduard took an immediate step backward.

"Okay, I, uh, hi. Nice to meet you. And I'm backing up now." Eduard whispered loudly through the side of his mouth, "Seriously, Tino, come on…"

Tino drained his coffee, picked up his SpongeBob backpack, and smiled awkwardly at Berwald. "Bye, Berwald."

"Bye, Tino," Berwald replied, not taking his eyes from Eduard backing out of the room nervously. He could hear their conversation drifting back as they left the house.

"He's the guy who's moved in here? He's terrifying!"

"Stop it, I don't think he means it. He's actually really nice."

Watching them go, Berwald couldn't help wondering resentfully what sort of relationship Tino and Eduard actually had. They were the same age, they were best friends, they obviously had far more in common than Berwald and Tino ever would. And yet if they were together, that was their business. What right did Berwald have to feel angry or upset about it? It wasn't like he had a shot in hell with Tino, anyway. All he was doing was torturing himself. Berwald sighed, cleaned up the coffee cups and Norway's mess, then headed to get ready for work. He was already late.

.

That evening, Berwald walked home from work to find the street entrance blocked by several cars - including his own – and the sound of raucous cheering erupting from down the road. He could think of only one explanation.

"Denm'rk."

Resigning himself to the worst, Berwald made his way past the parked cars and towards the house. It looked like the entire student population had turned out to stand in excited groups, staring and cheering at some commotion occurring in the middle of the road. A short, strangely familiar man with shaggy yellow hair wandered up and down the side of the street, waving a small notebook and shouting, "Place your bets!" Drawing closer, the crowd parted, and Berwald got his first look at the focus of everyone's attention.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Denmark. In the middle of the road, two men stood in front of two average sized sedans. Berwald recognised Ludwig, the German he'd met briefly earlier; the other man was not familiar - a tall, grinning blond in glasses wearing an American flag t-shirt. Each of them had a makeshift harness around their chest, connected by rope to one of the cars.

Oh, they could not be serious… Was there a single sane person living in this street?!

"My money's on the German." Denmark's voice carried across the lawn as Berwald walked warily towards his four housemates. Tino smiled and waved, but the others ignored him. Denmark clutched a piece of paper and stared at the two contenders intently. "Can't lose."

The crowd grew noisier, cheering and calling for the race to begin. Across the road, Feliciano stood with a group Berwald didn't know, including a white-haired man who shouted encouragement into Ludwig's ear. Next door, Lithuania and Poland watched the proceedings with Eduard. Berwald had to stop his fists clenching into fists at the sight of Tino's 'best friend.'

"Den, is it really a good idea for you to be betting?" Tino's voice brought back Berwald's attention. "How much do you have on this?"

"Like I said, can't lose this one. Look at the muscles on that Kraut!" Denmark shouted, "Oi, Germany, you potato eating bastard! You'd better win this or I'm going Viking on your ass!"

"Screw you, Denmark," Ludwig shouted back.

"No chance, I know what you're into and even Iceland doesn't go for shit that kinky."

"Not cheaply, anyway," said Iceland flatly.

"How did you get Ludwig to agree to this?" asked Norway in a bored tone. He was, as usual, reading a book – Schopenhauer, this time.

"Remember that barbeque the Germans had last week?"

"The one you weren't invited to but jumped the fence and ate their food and drank their beer and got beaten up by the Hungarian girl?"

"Yeah, that one. I bet Germany he couldn't eat ten sausages in sixty seconds. He couldn't, and here we are."

"And Alfred?"

"Asked him if he wanted to tie himself to a car and race a German. And here we are."

"Den, gambling is how you got us into this mess…" Tino started.

Well, that was interesting. Before Berwald could think too deeply on it, the crack of a gunshot ripped through the air. The green-clad referee held a gun above his head. The race had begun. "Too late now!" cried Denmark cheerfully. "Move it, Germany! Kick some American ass!"

Berwald was rather surprised at how fast the two men moved, dragging the cars behind them. They were obviously both incredibly strong. The crowd went wild, whistling and shouting and waving the small pieces of paper in the air frantically. Feliciano was jumping up and down and waving a German flag. The white-haired man kept pace with Ludwig, shouting at him the whole way.

Loud cries of "Come on Alfred!" came from the next house over where three men, all of them blond and one dangerously close to being naked, cheered from the lawn. One of them, a short guy with a tweed suit and massive eyebrows, walked to the finish line and held something aloft. Berwald squinted; it was a hamburger. "Oh, Alfred!" he called seductively. "If you win I'll let you eat this off my..."

"What the hell?" Denmark interrupted, face turning red as he shouted. "What does England think he's doing?"

The bizarre strategy worked. The American, Alfred, picked up in speed and just moments before the line managed to pull in front of Ludwig. He crossed the line to deafening cheers, happily grabbing the burger with one hand and England's waist with the other.

"The American wins!" shouted the referee. He was immediately swamped by half the crowd pushing their pieces of paper at him insistently.

"Cheating! Lies! Subterfuge!" Denmark stormed over to the finish line and practically blew up in the referee's face. "What the HELL was that?! In what race on Earth is it acceptable to use bribery to get your guy over the line?! I request, nay, I DEMAND a rematch!"

"No one said it wasn't in the rules, wanker," said England, a smug grin on his face. "Now pay up, Vash, I had a hundred quid on this." Alfred simply focused on devouring the burger.

"Oh, this is bullshit!" Denmark turned to the white-haired man beside Ludwig. "Prussia, back me up."

"I hate to do it, but I have to agree with Psycho here," said Prussia angrily. "Honestly, Vash, we were not informed we could use these tactics or we would have had Feliciano naked at the finish line waving a wurst in the air."

Denmark threw his hands out. "You see? Give me back my money, Switzerland, this was rigged!"

Switzerland did not look up from taking papers from those around him and checking them against his notebook. Berwald suddenly remembered where he knew him from: Vash, the Rifle, possibly the fairest and most unbiased dealer in the entire underground card circuit. Berwald barely recognised him without the cloud of smoke and the smell of bourbon. "It wasn't rigged. Your guy lost. Deal with it."

Denmark crumpled his paper and threw it to the ground. "This is not over. Oh, this is SO not over!"

Vash turned his back on Denmark as he distributed the winnings amongst the crowd. "Denmark. Take a deep breath, and ask yourself this question. Which one of us is currently in possession of a gun?"

Denmark paused for a moment then stomped on the ground and marched back, leaving Prussia to take over the argument. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

Tino shook his head, glaring at Denmark with a look of frustrated pity. "I told you, Den."

"Great," said Norway, tucking his book into an inner pocket of his corduroy blazer. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any stupider. How much have you lost us now?"

"But that was a sure thing, how the hell did he lose?! Hey Germany, you owe me now. Are you listening? You owe me! And don't think you can get away without paying like you did after 1945!" Ludwig shouted an angry response but Denmark turned his back and ignored him. "Okay, okay, it's all good, I have an idea. Rematch. Can't use the Kraut though. Now let's see…" He paused, turned slowly to Berwald and looked him up and down, excitement dawning in his face.

"No."

Denmark whined. "Come on, Sweden, you're even bigger than that German bastard! You can beat that skinny Yank!"

"No." Berwald looked away and noticed, with a cold jolt of shock, that Ivan had appeared on the next door lawn. He narrowed his eyes and watched as Ivan put an arm around Lithuania and glanced over, smiling smugly. Tino followed Berwald's gaze, and the entire atmosphere shifted. Tino nudged Norway, who elbowed Denmark, who looked from Berwald to the Russian with an almost murderous glare. But the most interesting reaction came from Iceland. A look of pain, sadness, and almost fear passed across his face, and he took a step behind Norway.

"Come on," said Norway quietly. He headed towards the house, his arm reaching for Iceland. Tino followed, but Norway had to bark, "Denmark!" to get the Dane to move. More than happy to leave this uncomfortable situation behind, Berwald trailed after.

They were nearly at the door when Berwald felt a firm, cold hand grasp his arm. He scowled furiously, spun around, and found Ivan Braginski smiling cheerfully, dangerously at him.

"I know your type, Berwald. I know you." The words were a challenge.

Struck still, Berwald silently panicked. His eyes involuntarily flicked towards Tino, paused on the doorstep with the others. But Berwald could play this game, so he kept his face blank, even as he wrenched his arm from Ivan's grip. "Ye know nothin'."

"I know we both live in two worlds. I know you think you can make a clean, honest start. And I know you'll be back." Ivan smirked. "You always come back."

Berwald's jaw clenched so tightly it was painful. Bluff. "Don't know what ye're talkin' 'bout."

"Him?" Ivan nodded at Denmark. "Silly boy. Maniac, who does not know what he is doing." Denmark opened his mouth angrily but Norway silenced him with a look. "But you, Berwald, are a professional. As much as you try to hide it with your nice, normal, respectable job as a… what was it? A cleaner?"

Berwald felt the beginnings of anger in the burning of his neck, the involuntary clenching of his fists. But he could play this game. "Gard'ner."

Ivan snorted. "Of course, a gardener."

"What are ye doin' here?" Berwald leant forward and hissed, hoping he couldn't be heard by those around him. Both his and Ivan's housemates were far too close. "Livin' with these kids, pretendin' ye're normal…"

Ivan laughed outright. "I could ask you the same thing."

Berwald felt a growl rise in his throat. "I'm nothin' like ye."

"Aren't you?" Ivan smiled, and it made Berwald's stomach turn. "I don't think I need to ask what you are doing here." He glanced openly, unmistakably, towards Tino.

Berwald felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Ivan was exceptional at reading people. He hid it behind a smiling face, behind a falsely innocent exterior, but he was not a phenomenal poker player for nothing. Berwald could play this game, but suddenly, it wasn't a game anymore. "Back off, Br'ginski."

Ivan's eyes crinkled in cold, hard amusement. "Do you think he'd look at you twice if he knew who you were?"

Berwald's anger rose higher, heat infusing his cheeks. "I'm warnin' ye." He barely kept his voice controlled; his heart was in his throat, and his veins boiled with rage.

"Criminal." Ivan leant closer, ugly words hot against Berwald's ear. "Do you think he'd blink at you with those big eyes? Smile with those pretty lips?" Berwald was speechless with rage. A vein throbbed dangerously in his temple. Ivan wanted him to react, he was pushing him, but this was…

"You think he'd open those legs for you?"

…too far. Something snapped. Berwald snarled, clenched his hand into a fist, pulled his arm back… He felt it stopped by a strong hand. He turned his head to see Norway gripping his elbow, a warning in his serious eyes.

Awareness slowly seeped into Berwald's brain, until he realised that the entire street had gone silent. Everyone was staring at him. He pulled his arm free, and took a step backwards, the fury in his veins drowning any embarrassment.

Ivan laughed. "Angry boy you've got here. I'd be careful. I don't think even little Ice could handle this one." Ivan smirked at Iceland, hard and cruel, and winked. Iceland fled into the house, Tino following close behind.

Denmark stepped forward, enraged. "I mean it now, you sick bastard, I will rip your…"

"Ivan." Norway's voice was calm, deadly, and it silenced Denmark instantly. He took one step closer to Ivan, levelling a glare that was even more terrifying for its lack of expression. "If you ever, even once, look at my brother like that again – I will kill you. Do not think for one second that I am not serious. Come on, Sweden. Den, move it."

Berwald did not tear his gaze from Ivan's smiling face as he let Norway pull him into the house. His anger refused to subside. Why the hell was Ivan living in this street? Why did those kids live with him? What was going on between him and Iceland? One thing was certain. Ivan did not belong here. But Berwald could not stop the small, nagging voice inside him which whispered, neither do you.

Berwald had taken the job at the university because it was normal. It didn't pay much, but he didn't do it for the money. It was the opposite of everything he was used to, everything he had been involved in for too long. It was a new start, a fresh beginning, a way to put the past behind him.

But Ivan was right. Berwald had not been able to stay away from that life before - how was he supposed to do it now? He could try and run from it, but he would always be a criminal. If Tino knew who he was, he'd want nothing to do with him. Tino should be with someone nice and normal… someone like that Eduard kid. Berwald ignored the way his blood boiled at the thought of it.

Once inside, Norway and Denmark immediately disappeared. Tino and Iceland were nowhere to be seen. Berwald was left standing alone in the front room, slightly disoriented and thrumming with rage.

Greenland looked up from the couch and blinked at him a few times. "Ah. Sweden, right?"

Berwald glanced at him vaguely. "B'rwald."

Greenland waved a hand. "Right, Berwald, right." He stretched and yawned. "Drama on the front lawn, Sweden?"

"Uh… somethin' like that."

"Oh, the never ending Ivan saga." Faeroe sighed, stretching and sending a few empty cans flying to the floor. "This is the only reason I hang around here… better than any soapie, I tell you what."

"What, um…" Berwald felt a little guilty for asking, but he was still so confused right now. "What happened b'tween Ivan'nd Iceland?"

Greenland and Faeroe exchanged a heavy glance. "Really not our place to say," said Faeroe.

"Yeah. We just sleep here," added Greenland.

"You seem angry about something. Everything all right?" asked Faeroe, tilting his head.

Berwald shook his head absently. "It's nothin'."

"Just remember, my friend," said Greenland, "'Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it; you are the one who gets burned.'"

"Yes," said Faeroe, "For 'we are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.*'"

Berwald furrowed his brow, stared at the wall, then nodded tersely. Just when he thought things couldn't get stranger, the guys on the couch start quoting Buddha at him. "'kay. Thanks."

He headed to his alcove. It was small, it was cramped, it was blocked off from the rest of the house by a curtain. But damn it, it was his, and it was one place where he could avoid the entire blasted world. He fell onto his bed, placed his glasses on the side table, and pressed his palms into his tired eyes. Despite everything, he could not shake that feeling. Berwald knew he didn't belong here. He knew he never should have moved in.

But from the second he'd laid eyes on Tino, he knew he didn't have a choice.

.

"Berwald?"

Berwald's eyes shot open at the sound of Tino's voice. He shook himself from his drowsy daze, unsure how long he'd been drifting half-asleep. The sky outside his window was dark. He quickly stood, put on his glasses, and parted the curtain to Tino's side of the room.

A few bright lamps lit the room, and Tino stood at the window, struggling with an old-fashioned pull-down contraption with a latch at the top. He bashed it a few times with his fist before smiling at Berwald apologetically. "The window's caught. Can you help me pull it free?"

Berwald stood still a few moments, heart pounding in his chest. "Sure." He forced himself to move, grasped the top of the window, and pulled. It did not budge.

"Um, you need to hold here..." Tino touched the centre frame of the window. "And hold it steady while I pull this part down."

"'kay."

Berwald held the frame steady. Tino was so close in front of him Berwald could smell his hair and feel the heat from his body. It was making his head spin and his mouth dry; he could not control his breath, his pulse, his thoughts.

Tino pulled on the sliding window and suddenly it flew down, slammed, and Berwald nearly lost his balance before steadying himself at the last second.

Tino laughed, somewhat shakily. "This old house is falling apart!"

Berwald didn't know how to respond, so he didn't. He just looked out at the moonlit backyard over Tino's shoulder… and realised he had forgotten to mow it.

Tino noticed at the same time. "You didn't mow the lawn."

"No. S'rry."

"Don't apologise. Denmark shouldn't make you do the yard."

"I don't mind. I'm goin' t'make ye a garden." The words came out before Berwald could stop them.

Tino turned slowly, his face unreadable. They were still so close, but Berwald did not move. "You're... going to make me a garden?" Tino looked surprised, confused, and slightly flattered all at once.

"Uh. Yeah."

"Why?"

"'cause... 'cause ye want one."

Tino stared at him. Berwald stared back. Surely those violet eyes could not grow any wider.

Suddenly, a devastated scream echoed down the hall, followed by a cry of, "Oh my God, she did what?!"

Berwald realised just how close he was still standing to Tino, and forced himself to step back.

Tino laughed, clutching the lower window frame behind him. "I think Norway just ruined the ending of Den's book."

"Oh. I didn't mean t'…"

Tino smirked. "Den deserves it."

Berwald couldn't help but agree. "What was he readin' anyway?"

"Denmark's got a thing for romance novels. He's on a bit of a historical time-travel kick at the moment."

Berwald didn't know what to say to that.

"Feliks loves them too, but he prefers regencies. Eduard says it's all heteronormative garbage." Berwald felt his fingers twitch at the mention of Eduard. Tino continued easily, "Something happened between you and Ivan too, didn't it? It's just, when I saw the way you were talking with him before… Ivan seems to have that effect on a lot of people. Making them angry, I mean."

What was Berwald supposed to say? He's someone I gamble with illegally and he enjoys ruining my life? "It's really nothin' t'worry about." Then he remembered the way Ivan had looked at Iceland. "Is Iceland okay?"

Tino didn't reply for a moment, face uncertain. He answered slowly. "He's all right. He's tough. Not as tough as he thinks, but still tough. Ivan and him…" Tino stopped. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't…"

"O'course," Berwald said quickly.

Tino took a shaking breath and looked down at his fluffy purple slippers. "You know how this morning, when we were talking in the kitchen, and I told you how my parents walked in on me kissing Eduard?"

Not exactly something Berwald could forget... "Yes."

"I… I want you to know that I'm not… um, I mean… we're not together. He's not my boyfriend or anything, we're just friends." Tino's cheeks turned an even darker shade of red. "I just wanted to know what it was like… kissing, that is, and…" Tino's eyes went wide and he suddenly seemed to panic. "…and I know you don't care at all and I'm sorry I said anything, please forget it, that was really stupid…"

"No," said Berwald. Sure, it was strange, but… "Nothin' ye say could ever be stupid."

Tino's brows furrowed, and his head slightly tilted. "You're not really that scary, are you?"

"I don't try t'be."

Tino nodded, a little ashamed. "I know. I'm sorry. I must seem so rude to you."

"No. I know how people see me."

"That's unfair though, isn't it? For people to just look at you and think they know who you are. I never thought I would be like that. Not when I know people do the same thing to me."

"But ye're not like that. I think ye see through that."

Tino bit his lip and brushed his hair from his forehead, familiar, endearing gestures that made Berwald's heart twinge in hope and warmth and yearning. Outside the window, a cloud obscured the moon; the room darkened slightly, even with the light of the lamps inside.

"Thank you for helping me with the window."

"Ye're welcome."

"And Berwald, if you find this all too much and choose to move out – I understand. And I'm really glad to have met you. But I... I hope you don't."

Berwald tried to respond, but his throat was completely dry. Tino sounded like he really wanted Berwald to stay, and Berwald physically ached to reach out and touch him. He eventually managed to respond. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Tino smiled, but he didn't look convinced. "It's probably getting late. Have you been asleep?"

"Sort'f."

Then, utterly unexpectedly, Tino reached out and took Berwald's pocket watch from his front pocket. At the feather touch on his chest, Berwald felt like he'd been struck to his centre; as though his thumping heart could not take much more. Tino did not notice. "It's nearly ten. Guess I should get to bed, too."

Berwald just nodded, speechless.

"It really is a beautiful watch." Tino smiled as he handed it back. "Where did you get it?"

Berwald forced himself to speak. "It was m'fathers, and m'grandfathers."

"Cool, like a family tradition!" Tino looked genuinely interested. "Are you close to your dad?"

Berwald paused a moment. "I was. He's dead now."

Tino's face fell, mortified. "I'm sorry. That was stupid of me, I shouldn't have assumed…"

Berwald had to stifle a snort of laughter at the way Tino kept apologising. "'s'okay."

"No, it's not. I always say the wrong thing. I didn't, I just, I mean…" Tino stopped short, closed his eyes briefly, and took a deep breath. Then he looked directly into Berwald's eyes. "I'm sorry about your dad."

For a few seconds, Berwald couldn't breathe. "Thank ye."

It almost seemed like Tino was going to say something else; but he just blinked, averted his eyes, and turned away. "Goodnight."

Berwald told himself to move, choked out a 'G'night," and disappeared behind his curtain. He put a hand to his chest, feeling it pound heavily against his skin. He was suddenly hot, too hot, and had to tear his shirt over his head, careful to first place his pocket watch on the desk. Then he fell backwards into bed, palms pressed firmly against his eyes.

Berwald no longer cared that Denmark was wildly insane. He did not care that Norway seemed sociopathic. He didn't care that he could not figure out the mystery of Ivan and Iceland. He didn't care about the Buddhist loafers on the couch. All Berwald cared about now was Tino.

Tino, who made it all worth it.

Strange, awkward, breathtaking Tino, who he was deeply, startlingly, desperately in love with.

.

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

[soundofseventeen]

Lost Woods (Vernon Chwe)

Hi lovelies! Here’s a little Vernon post for the day! (I’m sorry about the Legend of Zelda title, but I couldn’t not do it) I am also a little over half way done with another series, so that’ll probably start being posted after Halloween! Enjoy! -Erin

“Vernon… Where are we?” You asked, looking at the trees surrounding you. You were on a group camping trip with a bunch of your friends, having this been something you looked forward to for a long time. You all hadn’t been together as one big group in such a long time. You slowly bonded with all your old friends, and soon it felt like it was the old days.

People were starting to take naps and go swimming when you said something about wanting to go on a hike. Everyone kind of groaned and you were bummed, until Vernon said he would go with you. You were a little shocked, mostly because Vernon was the one you spent the least amount of time this weekend. You felt like he was almost avoiding you, so the fact that he agreed to go on the hike with you surpirsed you.

Back when you all hung out more, you admit you had a mild crush on Vernon. He always joked around with you and had a far too attractive face. But he never showed any actual interest in you, so you just tried to let it go. Once you all stopped hanging out, it ended a lot easier than you had imagined. Not seeing him everyday made it really easy to not think about him.

“Uhh…” Vernon said, looking at the map on his phone. “We are definitely in the woods.” He added, and you gave him a look of panic.

“Vernon, you know where we are, right?”

“Yeah, totally.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “We gotta go this way.” He pointed, and you looked at him.

“That’s leaving the path though… Shouldn’t we stay on this?”

“According to this, this is the quickest way to the lake. Look, you can even see a small trail. We’ll be there in no time.”

“Okay…” You said, following him. Why you decided to suddenly trust him with this, you have no idea.

“So…” He started, stepping over a giant log, then offering you a hand to help you over. “It’s been a while since we have been alone together, huh?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrugged, continuing to walk with him.

“Mingyu talks about you a lot. I feel like I’ve been pretty updated on your life.” He smiled, and you rolled your eyes. Of course Mingyu would talk about you to Vernon. He was the only one you told about your original crush. He’s convinced you still have it, even though you and Vernon hadn’t spent time together in forever.

“Yeah… He talks about you quite a bit too. I guess you guys rap now?” You eyed him, and he kicked a rock.

“Maybe a little.” He grinned.

“Gyu said something about a showcase coming up?”

“Oh yeah! We’ve been practicing for it like crazy. Mingyu and I almost didn’t come this weekend for it, but we figured he kind of needed a break. Plus Seungcheol and Wonwoo could probably get a lot more done without us there for a couple days.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a habit he seemed to not let go of.

“Well, I told Gyu I don’t know my schedule yet, but I’m going to try to come see you guys. Maybe make a t-shirt or something.” You shrugged, and Vernon flat out laughed.

“Oh my gosh. Our first fan. I’m honored.” He placed a hand over his heart and made a proud look, causing you to laugh. It felt just like old times, and you felt a warm buzz in your heart. As you continued to walk and talk, you noticed that you passed a weird shaped rock before. A couple of times.

“Wait Vernon…” You said, stopping. He stopped and looked at you.

“Yes?”

“Are we lost?”

“No?” He said, looking around.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“We passed that rock like four times. See the weird moss pattern, it’s definitely one I’ve seen before…” Vernon looked at it, then his face went pale. He started looking around the trees, eyes wide.

“Okay… We may be lost…” You smacked his arm.

“VERNON!” He jumped at your sudden shouting. “I thought you said you knew where we were going?!” He scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah… About that…”

“What?”

“I may have lied…”

“VERNON!”

“I’m sorry! I swear I thought this would be a good path! But the map couldn’t really find our location, so I might have guessed…” You groaned and sat down on the rock. “Okay, we came from that way… Maybe if we backtrack…”

“How are we going to find the campsite?” You asked, starting to panic. It was still a while until sunset, but you’re mind was already racing. “What if we’re stuck out here? How will the others find us?”

“Woah, woah, woah! Calm down…” Vernon was now crouched in front of you. He had taken both your hands in his own. “We’re gonna be okay. It’s not that big of a forest. We’ll find our way back. Even if we don’t, someone will come look for us soon. We’re gonna be okay. Deep breaths.” He said, demonstrating the breathing until you started to follow. After a couple minutes, your breathing started to calm down, and Vernon smiled at you. “There we go.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to panic.” You said, and he patted your shoulder.

“It’s alright. At least I still remember how to calm you down.” He said, pulling you up. “Now come on, we should try going this way.” You nodded and followed him, now walking in silence.

“Hey…” You said, causing Vernon to glance at you. “How did you remember how to calm me down?” Vernon shrugged.

“It’s like second nature. I used to help you with it all the time, remember?” He nudged your shoulder. “Besides, I always kind of liked you, so if it would stop you from freaking out over something, I was glad to help.”

“Well, thanks.” You smiled. “Wait, you liked me?” You asked before you thought it through. Clearly he was talking about a general liking, not the liking you felt towards him before. You squished your eyes shut after you asked him, completely missed how red his face got.

“Yeah… I used to have a pretty big crush on you actually.” He admitted, and you opened your eyes.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Oh God yeah! You were so sweet and adorable and always told me really dumb jokes. What more could a guy look for?”

“Oh my God…” You said, trying to think back to before. Did he really?

“To be honest, I always kind of thought you might have had a crush on me at one point.” He mumbled, kicking another rock.

“I… Kind of did.” You admitted, and he looked at you.

“Wait you did?”

“Yeah, for a little while…”

“Wait, so I had a crush on you and didn’t say anything, and then you had a crush on me and didn’t say anything?” He asked, and you kind of shrugged. “Wow, we were good at this huh?”

“I guess…”

“Huh.” He said, and then continued walking. You stood confused for a second, then realized he was walking away so you quickly ran up to him.

“You know… I was wondering if-”

“Wait, is that the path?” You interrupted, running ahead. And sure enough you came across the path you originally left. You let out a cheer and when Vernon caught up to you, you wrapped your arms around him in excitement. He stumbled back, but managed to catch you okay. You let go of him and jumped around, Vernon just giggling at you.

“Okay weirdo, let’s go.” He laughed, waving you along back down the path. You hopped along after him, Vernon shaking his head at you. “You have hardly changed at all, Y/N.”

“Yeah, same with you Hansol.” You smirked, and he eyed you. No one really called him by his actual name anymore.

“Okay, I have to confess something.” Vernon said, and you looked at him. “I hate hiking. I really… am not a hiker. I just don’t get it.” You raised an eyebrow at him, looking at the woods and then back at him.

“So why did you say you would come with me? You didn’t have to.” You said, and he starting watching his foot kick into the ground.

“I guess I wanted to see if something was still true and it was kind of hard to talk to you with everyone else around.” He said, and you tilted your head at him. You opened your mouth to say something when he looked at you. “You know, we should probably get back to the campsite. Otherwise they might send out a search party anyway.” He chuckled, nodding you along. Neither of you really spoke to each other until you got closer to the campsite. Vernon wouldn’t really look at you, and all of a sudden it clicked what he was getting at.

He still liked you.

You pulled his hand out of his pocket and linked it with yours, causing Vernon to blush and look down at your hands with wide eyes. 

“Wait… Really?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Some things stick around, I guess.” You shrugged, pulling him along towards the campsite. All of your friends couldn’t help but notice the fact that you were both much more smiley after your hike.

[alwaysaglader]

Half A Heart Without You

Y/N's P.O.V

For some reasons people never really talked about the marks that suddenly appeared on your body of nowhere without any logical explanation. Maybe they were afraid of it. Maybe they just didn’t wanted it to be real. But nevertheless, these marks were really there.

And it meant that there was someone out somewhere, who had them too. Marks that appeared on the body of your soulmate as soon as they appeared on your own body. Whatever mark you got on your skin, your soulmate got it too. Soulmates were real and this was the evidence for it.

The first contact I had with my soulmate was as if it was like I had suddenly found the piece of me that was missing.

It did scare me at first but before I knew it I had started falling in love with everything about him. I have never even seen this guy but that didn’t matter. His messages turned into the favourite part of my day and I caught myself only looking forward to them now. 

I think about him all the time. Even when I have so much to worry about. Even the late hours of the night. He is always on my mind. It felt like I always wanted him. Even when I didn't know what I wanted. 

Honestly if I could - I would just leave everything and find my way back to him.

--

‘When we meet, I'm gonna make sure to stop all your hurting and just make you feel safe’, the words appeared on my skin as I held my arm close, curling up to a ball on the edge of my bed, tears trickling down my face as unbearable pain pulsed through my veins.

For weeks now WCKD has been putting me through an endless amount of tests and it was getting to the point where I could break by one more needle poking into me. People here were completely heartless and it’s not like anyone cared about what we went through. 

So I spent the night crying my eyes out, after I was thrown to my private room because I was an 'elite candidate' meaning I had to stay away from every one else. Classes, meals or basically all my day to day activities were restricted with my friends.

‘I wish you were here with me’ I grabbed a pen and scribbled on my arm with  shaky hands. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you in the middle of the night. I just didn’t know what else to do’ I wrote again, feeling bad for disturbing him.

A warm sensation fill my heart with his next words ‘I don't care even if I don't get any sleep tonight - as long as I can be there for you’ it read and the conversation continued all night.

The next morning I woke up late due to the lack of sleep I had gotten the night before. I felt very exhausted and weren’t even sure how I even made it out of bed and to the bathroom. Still half asleep I started to get ready for a shower when I saw it in the mirror. There was a huge ‘Good morning Sweetheart’  written on my forehead.

“What on earth?” I muttered to myself, glad that no one had seen it yet. When I asked him how he’d gotten it on his forehead, he’d told me that his friend Minho had scribbled it in his sleep. In fact, Minho thought this entire thing was quite amusing so he was willing to help him with it. 

‘That shank’ he wrote ‘always up to bloody pranks’. I chuckled for the first time today and scribbled down ‘he sounds fun’ and a ‘you should meet him love. He will drive you nuts’ with a smiley face was followed.

"I'm coming Thomas!!" I yelled running along the dull hallways of WCKD to reach my classroom. "You took forever" Thomas rolled his eyes leaning at the door. "Sorry" I mumbled. "Busy with your lover boy?" he smirked. "Shut up Tommy" I shoved him playfully but he caught a glimpse of my bruised arm went my sleeve got ridden up.

"What happened ?" he asked shocked pulling up my sleeve some more. "Ava said they have to do more tests because I'm special" I sighed sadly, “but I'm fine Thomas".

"Did it hurt?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. "Kind of" I lied knowing he would kill anyone who was to hurt me."Don't worry about it" I said again not liking the murderous look on his face. "Y/N your my little sister. How on bloody earth am I not suppose to worry about you?" he asked wrapping his arms around and holding me closer "why didn't you tell me?".

"Thomas the last time you tried protecting me, I wasn't allowed to see you for a long time. I can't go through it again" I sobbed, clinging onto him. "Hey hey it's ok. I'm here. No one is going to take you away from me" he cooed, rubbing my back calming me down “we are going to stick together”. I pulled away and ruffled his hair messing it up "c'mon now lets go. We are already late” I dragged a whining Thomas to class.

"Bloody hell" I mumbled quietly, "I forgot my writing book". Thomas shook his head with a goofy smile and was about to give me a piece of paper from his book when our grumpy old teacher stood glaring in front of me. "Y/N, this is the third time this week. Find some place else to write" he growled angrily and stomped away. "Out of all the crap we talk about that he hears?" I rolled my eyes ."Tell me about it" Thomas sighed lazily "so what you gonna do now?".

I looked around the room but finally decided to give in and took out a pen and stretched my hand ready to copy down the notes. I didn't want to do it knowing it will be engraved on his hand too but I didn't have any other choice. I needed a good grade and not taking down the notes is just asking to fail.

"What if he hates me now? What am I going to do?" I muttered nervously. "Y/N, he’s not going to hate you. I'm sure he will understand" Thomas assured while scrambling down the notes or mostly doodling on his book. 

"I hope so. I really want him to like me" I sighed, hardly paying attention to class anymore. "Do you think he will like me ?" I asked softly and Thomas's eyes widened. "What?" I asked amused by his reaction. "Why would you think of someone like that ?" he asked. "I dunno" I mumbled "what if he doesn't like me? You know I'm weird...".

"Hey!!" he held my shoulders stopping my rambling. "Y/N, you gotta be with the person who enjoys your madness" he ruffled my hair playfully "not an idiot who forces you to be normal and I am sure this boy will love you".

Newt's P.O.V

I was busy helping Zart out in the garden when suddenly a row of numbers appeared all over my arm making a wide smile come across my face and happiness to bubble in my stomach. I titled my head to read and it seemed like notes of some sort and in the bottom were an apology for writing it. I excused myself from Zart quickly and ran up to my room, rummaging through my drawer to find a pen.

‘It's alright beautiful. Don't mind at all’  I quickly scribbled on the back of my hand and a small ‘thank you’ appeared next to it immediately. ‘Are you feeling better today?’ I asked my heart aching for the pain she was going through. It just breaks my heart that people are so mean to her. ‘Yes. Thanks to you’. 

‘Darling, you don't have to thank me. It's the least I can do for you’ I wrote and watched more words appear on my skin making my heart swell in adoration. 

‘You alone can make my day better for me. No matter how bad it has been. You always help me through it and that alone is absolutely beautiful in my opinion’ her words made my heart beat with happiness ‘I can't believe how lucky I am to have you as mine. Even though you aren't here with me’.

‘It doesn't matter where I am. I'm always yours’ I wrote back and started chewing on my lip again, ‘no matter how far you are, I will wait until we can finally be together’.

‘I get butterflies thinking about the time I will be able to meet you’ appeared on my other arm and my grin grew even wider than possible and I could feel myself blush deeper. ‘It’s not going to be easy but it will. I just know it’.

‘I’d fight the whole world for you - I don’t care how cheesy that sounds’ I wrote on my wrist and felt a tingle on my cheek. Her reply was a perfect heart and a winking smiley face next to it.  

--

It was probably midnight as I laid lazily on my bed, unable to get a bit of sleep. I looked over at the empty spot on my bed and wondered about the things I would tell her if she were laying here next to me.

When I sleep, I dream of her and when I wake I long to hold her in my arms. If anything, our time apart has only made me more certain that I want to spend my nights by her side and my days with her heart.

"Newt!!" I heard a bang on the door. "Come in" I yelled and sat up to see Minho leaning on the door frame. “What are you still doing up ?” he asked coming in and shutting the door. “Busy?” he smirked knowingly. 

I held out my hands and showed the beautiful patterns she’d drawn and I’d drawn little doodles of things she loved. 

"Must be painful wanting to be with her huh?" he asked taking a seat on my bed. "It is...” I sighed sadly “but I'm waiting for my princess to come. She is on her way. I know it. I just have to be patient".

“Keep your hopes up buddy alright ?” he patted my shoulder. I nodded softly then turned towards him “and what are you doing here?” I asked confused as to what he was doing roaming around the glade at this time when he has to get up early tomorrow to run the Maze.

“I’m starving” he groaned, rubbing his stomach and standing up. “I was on the way to get some food out of the kitchen and I was hoping you were asleep and wanted to scribble something for your pretty little girlfriend” he grinned mischievously and ran out quickly when I threw a pillow at him.

Time skip

Y/N's P.O.V

I know he can sense the fear in my voice. “Y/N…why’re you crying? Please-please don’t cry. I hate to see you cry” he walked closer and notices the tears filling my eyes. Thomas lifts his hands to my face running his thumbs along my cheeks, before I whispered through quivering lips “I’m sorry".

“You’re scaring me…Tell me what’s going on- what’s happening?” he asked, with a trembling voice. “They’re sending me into the Maze tomorrow” I whispered and placed my shaky hands above his. He shakes his head violently “No…No, no, no…” he starts to sob, big tears trickling down his face  “…they can’t take you away from me- they can’t!!”. 

Thomas pulled me into his arms, crying into the crook of my neck. He held me tightly against his chest, my own tears falling onto his favourite blue shirt. “I’m sorry” I repeated, my voice coming out as a choked whimper “I don’t want to leave you Thomas".

“Y-You’re all I have. You're everything to me Y/N” he cries, clutching onto me  like it’s his lifeline; like if he held me tight enough, I wouldn’t have to leave and then there was a sudden loud bang on the door. WCKD staff barged in and pulled me away from his arms. 

“It’s past curfew” one of the armed guards growled with a harsh voice, despite of our pleas and cries. And the last I see is Thomas being taken away from me in a fit of tears, begging me to stay.  

I was laying on what seemed like a hospital bed with a bandage above my ear with a wet spot supposedly blood after they injected something there and I’ve been feeling extremely drowsy ever since. I could hardly see the doctors surrounding me and I could feel myself fading, unable to move, looking up at an odd device about to be lowered onto me. “Start the process”. 

And at that moment where I was drifting off to a deep slumber I felt a sudden tingling on my arm. I tried to sit up to get a glimpse but I could hardly lift my head. My mouth wouldn’t work properly and my head started spinning and the next thing I saw was complete darkness.

Newt's P.O.V

It's been a few days and I haven't still heard from her. I've tried many times to reach her again and again but there was no response. I spent day and night crying my eyes out hoping she was alright, hoping she is safe.

“Newt, the box is here” someone knocked on my door. “I’ll be right there” I croaked and picked up my notepad and dragged myself out of my room to meet with the other boys around the Box. 

“What’s going on?” I questioned the confused looking boys just gathered around the box. Even Gally looked frozen outside. I pushed my way through the crowd and came to the edge and froze... just like everyone else. It was a girl. She was curled up to a corner, her face looked swollen from crying and the bright sun was hitting her face causing her to shy away. She rubs at her eyes to try and become accustomed to the light. 

Suddenly a loud thud interrupts my shocked mind. “Rise and shine greenie” Gally said, taking a step forward causing her to flinch. “I’m not gonna hurt you greenie” he says in a bit softer but it still caused her to panic and shuffle back, backing herself into a corner in terror. “Stop it Gally” I said firmly, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him away. “Let me talk to her.”

“Hello. Can I come in ?” I asked softly and she looked at me for a few moments before nodding her head. I slowly jumped in and stayed in the opposite corner.

“I know you are scared, you can’t remember anything can you?” I asked and she shook her head. “It’s alright, all of us have been through exactly what you’re going through” I said taking another step forward.

“We aren’t going to hurt you I promise” I said and this time she slowly looks up and locked her gaze with mine. “ I just need you to come out of this box, can you do that?”I asked softly. 

“Alright” I smiled warmly when she released her hand from behind her legs and shakily reach up to lightly grip onto my hand held out. I offered her a smile and she sent me one back. “Welcome to the glade.”

--

"It will just take a few seconds” Jeff tried again with Clint trying to hold her down but it only made her scream louder and thrash around when trying to treat the bruises she had and some were even bleeding badly.

“Hey, would you let me try ?” I asked gesturing Jeff and Clint to stop and she looked at me terrified. “If it hurts you can punch me alright ?” I said coming closer, making her smile a little and uncurl herself as I sat slowly sat on the edge of bed with a wet cloth in my hand.

“Jeff, Clint could you give us some time ?” I asked and they agreed and left after giving me the instructions on how to treat her properly. I let out a soft sigh and settled, placing my hand over her small one gently.

It was when I brushed my thumb against her palm that I got a weird tingly feeling across my skin and my heart beat got faster that she pulled her hand out of my grip. “I’m sorry” I said quickly.

“Did you feel that too?” I asked quietly. “I-I don’t know. Just got a weird feeling in me” she mumbled. “Like a tingly feeling?” I asked and she nods her head and I saw a shy smile spread across her face.“And your heart beats faster ?” I smiled and she nods again.

“I felt that to. Please don’t be scared. It felt nice” I explained taking her hand in mine again. I repeated the motion with my thumb and her smile widens as she watches our laced hands on the bed.

This time she embraces the feeling and I smile lightly as I accept it and let the tingly, warm feeling wash through me. “Better ?” I chuckled and she nods in agreement giggling. “Will you let me help you now ?”.

I slowly let her sit comfortably then dipped the cloth in a bowl of water and gently rolled up her sleeves. The instant my eyes got fixated on her skin revealed I froze, my eyes fixated on the writings, designs and patterns on her arms and then my eyes narrowed to one single writing.... Iloveyou.

I bought my shaky hands and ran my fingers over it and I saw a tear drop on it. I looked up to see her eyes filled with tears but her eyes were fixated on my wrist where my sleeve has ridden up and there it was in ink, my writing Iloveyou.

“Are you okay?’’ I managed to croak out just above a whisper as I observed her face, her features and her beautiful pair of eyes. The details in her face stood out to me; her lashes fluttering a little when she blinked, her plump, pink lips, her sweet cheeks so lovely.

She didn’t say anything, but instead she just stared at me. In silence, we continued to look at each other like we saw fire burn in front of us, as if there was nothing more interesting in the world that the one right in front of our nose.

My heart began to pound in my chest, and I could feel a weird sort of longing developing deep in my soul. The desire to kiss her lips, to feel the softness against my own, grew with the second.

Sitting here with my heart almost beating in my throat, I slid my hands from her arms to her waist involuntarily; it happened automatically, as if I couldn’t control my own body.

My heart was pounding loudly and the closer I came to her, the more I sensed. Her fragrance blanked my mind, the touch of her skin made me feel light in my head and the stare of her eyes made me feel drunk, but then drunk on her.

My eyes dropped to her pink lips and then back to her eyes, eager to kiss her. I would’ve done anything to touch her, to kiss her or to hold her hand for just a few seconds. I would’ve killed for her, walked through fire.

Not being able to stay away from her anymore, after such a long time of torturing myself by staying away, I grabbed her face and pressed our lips together for our first kiss. Her lips were extremely soft causing goose bumps to rise and cover the surface of my body. I pulled away from her lips, opened my mouth to breathe and felt her lips against mine again, trying to keep them pressed together.

“I'm so sorry.” she said, but only then did the tears start rolling already. The sight broke my heart into pieces. My angel crying in front of me and I hated to see it. “Darling you have nothing to be sorry for” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tightly to my chest. “ I do” she cried, “I never had a chance to say it back”.

“Darling, I never expected you to. I just wanted to let you know how I felt” I murmurmed, and kissed her head, cradling her in my arms gently. “I love you” her little voice sounded, and it made my heart do flips. My cheeks turned red instantly, glowing with heat.

She nervously bit her lip and looked at her fiddling fingers. To make her look up at me, I placed my fingers underneath her chin and lifted it up. Our eyes met instantly, and her cheeks started burning even brighter. “I love you too”.

I moved closer to her and grabbed her face in the palm of my hands and  pressed my lips firmly on hers. Our second kiss felt so much more intense. As soon as our lips touched and I could taste her again. It felt like I was dreaming, because it’s an absolute dream to be able to kiss her.

“Why did you write it with no spaces?” she chuckled wetly once we pulled apart and rested our foreheads together. “So there is no room for anyone else”  I whispered and shared a sweet kiss with her, smiling as I did so.

“You make me feel safe’’ she mumbled sleepily while resting her head on my chest, ready to fall asleep. Smiling, I pressed a kiss on her head. “Like I said... I would do anything it takes to make sure you're safe and happy, my love’’ I hummed and closed my eyes, trying to doze off to the rhythm of her breathing.

And as I lied here with my princess I’ve been waiting for, I finally felt complete for the first time in my life because all this time I was half a heart without her. 

She was the chapter that I didn't know the words to, but always knew it existed. And when I finally found it and began to read, I knew I was home.

She is like no body else in this world. When I’m with her, it’s like I’m split in half. Part of me is on fire, going crazy if I’m not touching her. The other half is calm and peaceful just perfectly content, knowing she is the one for me. 

[greennightspider]

Fated Instinct Chapter Six: Feast for the Eyes

Summary: Sequel to Cabin in the Snow. Akari finds herself in a predicament after an accidental overnight stay in a cabin grants her the title of fiance to the chieftain-to-be M’Baku himself. 

Author’s Note: This took me a millennia yes I know but it is here I am bek and we are READY TO RUMBLE

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14,  Chapter 15,  Chapter 16,  Chapter 17,  Chapter 18,  Chapter 19,  Chapter 19(2),  Chapter 20,  Chapter 20(2),  Chapter 21,  Chapter 22, Chapter 23,  Chapter 24

Bonus Chapter 21.5

M’Baku x Akari(OC)

"Okay Runi it’s not what you think."

"Oh please." Runi scoffed and then grinned. "You were in a daze all breakfast looking like you were thinking about eating anything other than-

“Can we not do this in front of my little sister?” Akari hissed.

They both turned to Kaia who was casually fixing her braids into a bun. "C'mon Kari I'm eighteen give me some credit."

Both of them turned back and Runi folded her arms. "So what’s the deal hmmm?"

Akari sighed. "Look we didn’t go that far. But he was very...

“Big?”

“Considerate.”

“So do you like him?”

“What?” Akari’s voice went three times higher than normal.

“Simple question Kari. Do. You. Like. Him.”

Akari paused for a minute before answering, picturing the big burly bundle of laughs that was her former partner, who even before becoming betrothed to she had grown fond of. She half smiled at the memory of the previous night before catching Runi’s death glare. “Aaaand…. what if I do?”

“Hmm. Okay then.” Runi nodded before marching to the front door.

“Runi where are you going you just got here!”

“Oh don’t worry I’ll be back in a few.” Runi stated simply before slamming the door, leaving Akari nervous and Kaia munching on a handful of almonds, enjoying the morning entertainment.

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M'Baku was in such a good mood the next morning that everyone was left perplexed at the giant who hadn’t stopped smiling to himself. Even M’Baku’s boys had tried to grill him on why he was so chummy the next morning, until he spied Runi in the distance making a beeline for him. He tried to meet her halfway but Runi marched right up to M'Baku and grabbed him by the collar. "So listen here. My best friend is over hear sneaking out of her home, acting all smiley and shit telling me she likes you.”

M'Baku couldn’t help the smile that dawned on his face at the thought of his bedmate admitting she liked him.

"Nananannanah mate.” Runi snapped her fingers. “What you need to get through your thick head is that Akari’s never even liked someone before.”

Runi let go of his fur collar before continuing. “Look I ain’t gonna pretend that you didn’t save her life. But she’s like a sister to me. So if I ever find out you have someone on the side while stringing Akari along? Or Mr. Popular is being too friendly with other females and hurting her? I swear I will drop your ass so hard not even Hanuman could rescue you. Got it?"

M'Baku gulped. "Got it."

As he watched Runi storm away he thought about how Akari had all these people round her who would kill to protect her.

And M'Baku couldn’t really fault them because he would do the same.

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"You come back to me."

These words rang in Akari's mind as she, Runi, and Kaia were trying to figure out what she was going to wear for the banquet. Runi and Kaia were already aware that Akari wasn’t much for dresses, or dressing up for that matter. Sure she had a few formal outfits but she never indulged in this kind of thing. If it wasn’t practical or didn’t have pockets for weapons and snacks, she didn’t see the need.

“What about this one?” Runi held it up to Akari’s body while Kaia inspected it through her thinly rimmed pink sunglasses that hid most of her face. “Nah, too flarey.”

Akari turned to her sister. “Kaia how did you even get sunglasses here? We live in the mountains.”

Kaia turned her face up to the sky ambiguously. “I have my ways.”

Akari dropped her shoulders and sighed exasperatedly. “Why does it even matter what I wear?”

Before Runi could school her Kaia jumped in. “Because Kari, this is going to be your first debut as M’Baku’s fiancé, in front of all the nobles and in front of the Jabari Tribe itself. You, are our future chieftess. We’re not the only ones who know that the betrothal wasn’t exactly planned, and as Zahkele already told us, there are rumours. We want to make sure people know that however it happened, you, are here, to STAY. We don’t want you looking like a clueless pawn, we want you looking like a queen.”

Runi and Akari both blinked at Kaia, before Akari raised her eyebrows and lifted her hands in defeat. “Well well well didn’t realize you were so good at strategizing.”

“Oh I learned from the best.” Kaia smirked before Akari lightly punched her in the arm. They all laughed before turning towards one market stall that left all of them at a standstill.

“Oh THAT one for sure.”

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“Is everything set?” The hooded man whispered to his colleague.

“Yes. Everything is in place.” He replied, handing over a small red vial which the first man hid under his cloak.

“All praise to Hanuman.”

“Yes, all praise to Hanuman.”

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Akari tried to take deep breaths as the banquet room opened up to her with glass walls showcasing the Jabari lights that covered the mountainside. The banquet itself was bustling with people Akari noted, slowly making her way around the room to one of the long tables laden with food, the crowd bustling with chatter and conversation. Akari spotted Nocawe eating a slice of banana cake who smiled and tried to make her way over before getting stopped by other guests. Akari had smiled back in reply, before turning to the table next to her eyeing the sweets.

Grabbing a vitumbua (making a mental note she had to stuff some in her purse because damn they were good), she slowly turned around to eye the guests. Nobles, advisors, highly ranked warriors, everyone of importance was here. Including M’Baku, who was slightly faced towards her across the sea of faces. He hadn’t noticed her yet, looking quite regal in his long black formalwear embroidered with dark red thread. Akari grinned to herself, about to make her way to him when she spied who he was in conversation with.

N’Ceba. The head of M’Baku’s little fanclub, smiling and chattering away with M’Baku grinning back. She had a dazzling smile and was well liked, I mean everyone knew her. Her father was a noble, so of course she would be in attendance.

Now normally, Akari was not a jealous woman, however a rage boiled deep inside her when she saw N’Ceba run her fingers through her hair and try to wrap herself around M’Baku’s arm like a sloth. She knew it was the instinct kicking in. Akari quickly turned around and rested her hands on one of the banquet tables behind her, trying to calm her breathing and not realizing she was gripping the dark brown tablecloth beneath her fingers. How dare she. How dare she touch what is MINE.

“Young one, are you alright?”

Akari was dragged out of her murderous thoughts by the soft voice of an older gentleman with kind eyes. He was dressed in a dark simple robe that hung from one side of his shoulder, indicating he was a man of Hanuman, and an advisor. Akari tried to compose herself. “Yes thank you, it can be a bit stuffy with all these people around.”

“Perhaps a drink to calm your nerves?” The old man offered a glass of what looked to be red cordial, and Akari accepted it gratefully. Akari knocked the drink back hoping it would calm her nerves before remembering her place and bowing to the man. “Thank you, Shaman, I am grateful for your kindness.”

“No need to thank me, betrothed of M’Baku.” The old man smiled. “All praise to Hanuman.”

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When M’Baku saw her from across the room he hardly recognized her. Her long soft curls fell loose and swayed with every movement, gently following the curve of her body. Her dress was beautiful, the pattern was a dark, off the shoulder, simple mermaid tail fit that complemented Akari’s effortlessness. The simple but delicate outfit spoke to the way she carried herself, wearing no jewelry but the very simple paint that speckled her arms and her eyes. Akari needed no fancy baubles or huge dramatic flares to prove she belonged there. All in all, she was stunning.

M’Baku wasted no time shaking off N’Ceba who had tried to snatch onto him and made his way over to her, leaving his circle of conversation wondering what or who had captured his attention. Everything became a blur to him. All he could focus on was her.

“It’s been too long, Kari.” He chuckled nervously, hoping that Akari wasn’t about to strangle him in the middle of this banquet. He didn’t know if she had seen N’Ceba try and cozy up, and while he normally would’ve played it off as friendly banter, Runi’s words flashed in his mind like a warning sign.

However, to his surprise Akari turned to him looking slightly dazed but smirking lustfully. Sliding her hands up M’Baku’s chest before wrapping them around the back of his neck, she slowly drew her gaze up his body and finally rested on his face.

“Oh yes it HAS, my love.”

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Akari’s Outfit:

*Akari out here walkin in like Rihanna* The dress issa mixture okay

Taglist: @skysynclair19 @junesbride @great-neckpectations @muse-of-mbaku @hippiesandpeacesigns  @jackburtonsays @coonflix @hi-looo12@bonyg  @romanceoftheeveryday  @someareblindtoitsbeauty@wheredidallthedreamersgo @msblkshot710 @peaches-bbygrl@theunsweetenedtruth @blackpinup22  @airis-paris14 @macgruberrr@simplyyamberr @blackpantherreblogs  @wawakanda-btch @im5ftbutmythroat66  @vanitykocaine @iamrheaspeaks  @aykanna @laketaj24 @letsshamelessqueen-m

[sebbybooks]

Wildflowers (PT3)

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction Warnings: Smut, Language 🍃Tagged for Updates🍃 @crystallimythium @multifandomluv7 @buckyappreciationsociety @bunchofandoms @deanmonslittleangel @psychicwitchphilosopher @seargantbcky @learisa @mjuikoli @ophcelia @sleepdeprivedchildren @aesthetic-bbygoats (*A/N*- Because film school just started back it felt like it took me forever to find time to sit down and finish this. Sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy this last part as much as I did! If you want to be added to my permanent tag list for future posts just let me know and I will be happy to add your name to the bunch. Also if you want to be removed from my permanent tag list again just let me know:) -Noelle "Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you."- F.S.F I find it interesting how the most memorable conversations you have with someone usually start off with an unforgettable question. "Are you here alone?" I had worked up the courage for over an hour creating fictional one liners on how I could spark up a conversation with the guy across the room. He stayed to himself all evening, engaging in occasional conversations with people that walked up to him. I asked around diligently trying to find out any information about him, but no one seem to have known who he was. A couple of my mother's friends carried the same suspicion as to who he could be , despite not knowing who he was they still remained perpetually fixated on him. "Well who wants to know?" His raspy voice sounded like a confluence of accents. It was deep enough to sink me into a pit of curiosity, but at the same time light enough to rise his enigmatic presence causing me to stay. "Everyone." I answered. He titled his head to look pass me and I watched as his eyes scanned the area. People were all over scattered amongst themselves with a new freshly colored wine in their glass ever so often. We all stood under a gigantic white tent with a hardwood floor underneath us. Tables and chairs sanctioned off in a corner with an open bar that never not stayed busy. Despite the fact guest were invited to try a new flavor wine every half hour. He leaned back toward me, almost trying to hide his broad frame in front of me. " I see." I turned around to understand what he was referring to. He had caught the attention of quite a few admirers. "You can almost smell the pheromones from over here." I must've caught him by surprise because he laughed till he choked. "How many of those have you had?" I asked, slightly laughing with him. "Not enough." He huffed turning over his glass till he clutched the bottom. "Uh oh I hear sorrow in your voice I must be going now!" I said jokingly pretending to turn around and leave. "So soon? You didn't even stay for the pity party I was about to throw." He said. "Was there even going to be cake?" I asked in a disappointed tone. "Actually no cake this time considering it's my second one." His smiled faded and there was a sense of grayness that filled his face. I felt though as if I pried any further I might've hit a nerve. Considering we didn't know each other I decided it was best I left the subject alone. Thinking back to it I wondered if I asked him what was wrong would the chronological events that took place that night have changed if I had. "Do you wanna get out of here?" He asked me prompting the conversation into a completely different category of topic. I suppose he interpreted my facial expression for what it was. I was completely taken aback but I wasn't surprised or offended. Because in all honesty in one of the imaginable conversations I had with him in my head before coming up to him, I was holding my breath hoping he would ask. He clutched his face like you would do if you had a brain freeze. Almost regretting that he had even tried his luck and asked. "I'm sorry I didn't know what I was thinking. I am really not myself tonight." He let out a dry humorless laugh saying that last part like it was to himself. "It's fine. I mean at least try to be a little bit modest next time." I grinned. "Noted, but isn't that why you came over here?" He asked me, raising both brows. His whole ora shifted like he was confident in the way he conducted himself. Arrogant nonetheless, but I found it to be sexy as hell. There was a little voice in my head telling me to take my cue and turn around. Part of me questioned that weary voice, but then there was this other voice daring me to do more. "You know I was actually wondering since I first spotted you if you were here with anyone and if you were fuck that lucky bastard for letting you stand by yourself all night." He said etching closer to me. We eyed each other intensely and call me crazy but our energy was electrifying. I could almost feel it running through me. "When I was little I use to pretend I was running away from home. I'd never get far because I always ended up in my mother's garden and hide in there for hours. First couple of times I did it she couldn't find me after a while she eventually stopped looking because she knew where I had ran off to." "You mean that big maze over there is a garden?" He asks, his eyes tracked my gaze and followed them beyond the tent and into the field of wildflowers. My voice became quieter. "It looks better once you're inside. That's if you want to see it." The words I spoke came out faster than I anticipated. He looked at me like he was trying to understand my exact sentiment. Catching a fleeting glimpse of my soul, I suppose I guess he liked what he saw. He lifted the corners of his mouth into a smile. "My mother always told me to never follow a beautiful woman into her secret garden." He warns. "That's oddly specific." I shake my head slightly assessing if he was joking or not. "Well my mother warned my sister and I to never trust a well dressed stranger who stands alone at parties." I said in a matter of fact speech. He grabbed a bottle of unopened wine from the rack beside him and picked up another glass, now clutching two. He extended out his arm waiting for me to loop mine through. "Here is to not listening to our parents." He said as I laced my arm into his. I could barely sleep. If I closed my eyes I could still feel myself very much awake. The memory of Sebastian taunted me mercifully, yet I couldn't stop playing the moment in my head over and over again. I soon was relinquished from it all at when the image of my sister's stoic and angry expression made my stomach twist in knots. I was careless even though I didn't know I needed to be careful. None of this was my fault and yet I felt guilty. I looked for Brooklyn after dinner, so that I could try and explain to her what happened. She barely stopped walking to listen. I waited for her to come to her room, so I sat there waiting sitting down on the floor against the wall. When she finally came upstairs she couldn't even look at me. I stood up and right before I could get the first I'm sorry out of my mouth she twisted the knob on her door and flatly said "Goodnight, little sister" before slamming the door shut. I couldn't sulk in bed any longer. I could see underneath my curtains daylight peeking in. I groggily walked down stairs still dressed like I was ready for bed. My oversized white cotton shirt drooped down in front of me, while my shorts hid under my shirt. The floor felt cold under my feet and I was startled when I hit the last step because someone came zipping by me at the speed of light carrying boxes. It was chaotic downstairs. With all the shit pilling up on my mind, my brain went completely clear over the fact today was mom's birthday. I took uncoordinated strides into the kitchen carefully trying not to bump into anyone holding decorations or food. Once I got into the kitchen I saw mom standing behind the wide marble countertop. She appeared to be utterly smiley this morning. I heard laughter coming from her direction I just didn't know it was hers because the laughter was mixed with another persons voice. Sebastian was sitting on a stool across from her. He was still in what I assumed what he slept in as well, gray sweatpants and a dark blue shirt that clung tightly to his skin. I didn't want to be weird and notice every little detail and the not so little details about him. His arms were crossed on the counter top as he leaned over a cup of from the aroma I detected coffee. "Good Morning Caroline!" My mother's voice greeted me to a very upbeat tune. It was certainly chipper than it was last night. I still hadn't forgot that she wanted to get around and tell me something. For the mean time however I was just going to pretend I did. "Happy Birthday Mom." I said while I hugged her. "Morning." I heard Sebastian say. I lifted my chin nodding my head to interpret a greeting without having to actually speak to him. "Thank you sweetie." She said as she kissed my cheek. Once she let go of me she swiveled around to the stove behind her reaching for a copper coffee pot. "Coffee?" "Yes please." I say as I grab a mug from the rack next to the coffee maker. I held my mug out in from of me as she pours coffee into it. The strong smell alone wakes me up. I fix it to my liking and I felt both my mom and Sebastian eyes stay glued to my every move. Sebastian and I sip our coffees in unison and I finally take a look at his face. I wonder did he have the same restless night I had and I wondered why I cared? Every time we happen to make eye contact with each other I get a pang of bittersweet feeling. It's like that emotion you experience when you're done with a really good book that you don't want to end. You're frustrated ,curious and , angry because it can't be over? What happens next after the good parts passed? Sebastian for me is that book, because our story couldn't possibly continue. He was already living in the pages of someone else's. "Tess was just telling me you love to cook." Sebastian says very casually still looking at me. My mother looks back and forth from Sebastian and me, eyeing us like she knew something that we didn't. "Umm. . . yeah I can make a pretty decent meal when I follow the recipe." I say with my mug clutched tightly in the palm of my hands and I keep it near my face. The heat radiating off of it started to make my hands sweat. Why was I so damn nervous talking to him all of a sudden? My mother swallowed waving her hand in my direction. "Oh she's just saying that! She can prepare anything you name and make it taste like the best thing you have ever eaten." "Oh really?" Sebastian asked looking past my mother straight at me. Why must he insist on looking at me like that? Mom turned slightly putting her hand on my shoulder like she was recalling a memory she wasn't quite sure of. "Remember when you were little what was it that you made everyone try? You were so excited because it was the first thing you made on your own." She pursed her lips while she squeezed her chin in her hand. That was the gesture she made when was lost in the many thoughts in her mind. "Honey toast." I said closing my eyes hoping she wouldn't carry out this conversation. "Honey toast!" She exclaimed. "Caroline was so proud of herself when she made that." Mom chuckled. Sebastian reciprocated a smile not sure if he was missing a joke he was left out on. "What was special about this toast?" He asks, as he took another sip of his coffee. The way he hunched over made his shoulders look broader and the muscles in his arms tighter. I was clearly letting my thoughts enter uncharted territory yet again. My mother and I look at each other and speak at the same time. "Nothing." We both laughed. "Well if you remember how to make it I would love to try it sometime." Sebastian said. "It's seriously nothing to it." I say sheepishly turning away from him. "Excellent! Then you wouldn't mind making us some." Mom said, shaking my shoulders. I started to protest the idea but she held her hand up to stop me. "It's my birthday you can't say no to your mother." "Tess there's a slight crises by the gazebo that need your attention about where to hang the lanterns." A short woman who frantically spoke with bangs that practically hung so low it covered her eyes. Mom took a deep breath before plastering a smile on her face. "Im sure it's not that pragmatic, but I'll take a look." Mom said to her in a calming voice though I could detect a little annoyance. "I'm never off! I work even on my birthday." She laughs. The woman laughs with her only because she probably felt she had to. I'm suddenly left alone with Sebastian. I stand in my same spot awkwardly chipping away paint on the outer part of my mug. "So does it take a long time to prepare this famous dish?" Sebastian teased. "You weren't actually serious? " I asked, eyeing him carefully. He nodded his head slowly. "I'm getting hungrier by the minute." I think it over in my head decisively. Was I even suppose to be talking to Sebastian? If Brooklyn saw me in his vicinity that would just add fuel to the fire. Truthfully I don't even know how my sister would react. Her behavior at dinner was so. . . peculiar. She carried on like everything was fine. Engaging in conversation with our mother, occasionally telling jokes. Whereas Sebastian and I sat in total and utter confusion. Brooklyn acted like finding my necklaces in the pocket of her boyfriend's jacket who before last night I pretended I never even met was a innocent coincidence. When I tried talking to her she remained dismissive, knowing my older sister's characteristics I knew something wasn't right. I got out the ingredients I needed, even though the recipe didn't call for much. 1/2 stick of butter, 2 table spoons of natural honey, 1 table spoon of ground cinnamon, and 1 table spoon of vanilla. I mixed it all in a bowl with a rubber spatula paying no attention to the attractive distraction in front of me. He looked at me in silence entirely too long, though his eyes tells that his mind is a million miles away. I turned around to grab a loaf of bread to retrieve a few slices. When I turned back around Sebastian was gone from his seat. He had moved from his chair and was standing in front of me. Holding the bread in my hand I took a panoramic glance to make sure no one was paying attention. "What are you doing?" I yelled out in a harsh whisper. "I wanted a better view." Sebastian said, looking down at me. I nudged his body so that I could get around him to so that I could smear the mixed honey butter to the slices of toast. Suddenly, I could feel him standing behind me looking over my shoulder. It sent an unwanted amount of chills down my spine. Sebastian wasn't even touching me, but the memory of his hands were marked in my skin. I kept looking down at what I was doing and not giving him the attention he wanted. Still busy with the task I had in front of me. Leaning his face closer I felt the scruffy texture from the side of his face tickling the side of mine. I slid away almost stealth like thankful I didn't trip as I went over to the oven to slide the tray inside. When I closed it and turned back around straightening my posture, Sebastian was still there. "Brooklyn, my mom, or anyone could see us. Are you crazy?" I ask him. "We are just two people having a conversation and possibly." Sebastian crossed his arms across his chest. "And maybe you are too." "Me?" I say to him feeling dumbstruck. " Tell me you don't really think the two us met by coincidence? We both knew what we wanted from each other and either one of us could have put an end to it at any moment." His tone was argumentative and I could tell he was serious. " I was out of my element and I guess you could say I was feeling bold but you-" My voice broke off. "You were there as my sister's date." I say through gritted teeth. "And all night where was she?" Sebastian answer came out with no hesitation. Like he was asking me a question he wanted me to have the answer to. "There's no justification in what happened between us and believe me when I say I truly wish we could've met under different circumstances." I made a noise that sounded like a muffled laughed. We could've avoided this mess entirely if we had just told each other our names in the first place. I should've been more responsible. Thinking back it suddenly dawned on me that I had every opportunity to give him one small detail about myself. Instead we carried on into the night like reunited friends drunk off of the atmosphere. Being in his presence did something to me. I rubbed my hands across my face , then against my forehead continuing to run my hands into my hair. "I tried so hard to fall asleep last night. Am I a bad person?" I whispered. "Being restless doesn't fall under the qualifications of being a bad person." Sebastian smiled, as he squinted his eyes in regards of what I said. "No, but thinking about you all night makes me one." I huffed. The spaces around us started to dissipate with people busy at work. Everyone seemed to keep migrating out into the backyard. For a fleeting second I stopped worrying if Brooklyn would walk into the kitchen at any moment. I didn't want it to seem like I wanted to rush into his arms, but that was exactly what I wanted to do. He kept both of his arms outstretched gripping the edges of the stove behind me. Leaving me in closed in his Sebastian made cage. There was no escaping him now. Quietness was all we had left. I felt a pulse rage everywhere and I kept my sight locked on his mouth waiting for him to either speak or kiss me. It was an unconscionable amount of tension arising that made my blood run hotter and hotter. Staying away from something that you can't have causes a certain madness to fester inside of you. Eventually claiming it as yours makes a wrong temporarily feel right. I titled my head up to his face like someone had pushed me to do it. My lips fell against his bottom lip and I felt almost too overjoyed to feel him again. I didn't want to let myself get carried away, because Sebastian remained motionless. He looked down at me with a brooding look in his eye, mixed with a heavy dose of confusion. What was I even thinking? I repeated to myself in the back of my mind over and over again. I started to feel regretful over my actions until I noticed Sebastian had snapped out of his daze. In a very careful and slow motion he pulled me closer against him. Sebastian brought his lips very gently kiss to my throat. His mouth roamed at will up my neck, no longer leaving delicate and faint kisses alongside it. Devoured would say the least. I gave up all my resistance for him, closing my eyes as I felt myself slipping away into his consumption. Sebastian's mouth hovered over mine and in the catch of a breath he kissed me. It was like a long and anticipated await. Our lips parted widely in a desperate but graceful synchronized movement. His hand cupped the back of my neck and my hands were placed at the bottom of his shirt grabbing fistfuls of fabrics. It wasn't until the sound of someone clearing their throat made me wish I was invisible. And then all at once Sebastian turned his head, his chest was slightly heaving. He eyed the couple across the bar stools who looked back bemusedly. Laura, played with her earring in her ear darting her eyes from the corners of the room and back at me. Her nervous grin was so wide that I assumed her face would lose elasticity from smiling so much. "Didn't mean to interrupt." Finn said, waving his hand. I stepped slightly away from Sebastian holding on tightly to the back of my neck. "You guys are here early." I say. "Yeah well when Brooklyn Reeves calls you several times demanding that we bring our asses over here early. We made sure to make our asses move." Laura laughed sincerely, hitting Finn on the chest with the back of her hand. "And plus it's your Mom's big day we wanted to help out anyway we can." Finn shoved his hands in his pockets gazing at me for awfully too long before I turned my head to Sebastian, who still has not said a word. "I'm sure she will be thrilled to see you both." I said, still causally glancing over at Sebastian. By the look of his face it was honestly starting to worry me because he looked like he had seen a ghost. Laura tapped her nails against the marble hardtop to get my attention. Even though she was trying to be discrete she was not doing a very good job at it. "Who is he?" She whispered over to me rather loudly. I placed my hand on his shoulder before introducing him then I quickly moved it away. "This is Finn and Laura, childhood friends of Brooklyn." I introduced. "Nice to meet you -" Her words lingered waiting for a name as she reached her hand out to shake his. "Sebastian." He said briskly. "Brooklyn's boyfriend." Laura's bright smiled diminished and she dropped his hand. "I didn't know she was dating someone?" Finn uttered out, like he was also taken by surprise. Laura's mouth was slightly gaped open looking at me like she was waiting to hear my explanation. I didn't expect him to be so fucking bold. He placed his arm behind my back and leaned his face closer to my ear. "Caroline your toast is burning." I sharply turned around pulling the oven door down to see on a silver tray four charred pieces of what should have been golden crystallized honey toast now burnt. I reached over for an oven mitten so that I could pull them out. When I looked back up ,Laura began to twist her earring again out of some sort of nervous habit and Finn looked as uncomfortable as everyone felt. "My mother would like to know that you are here and Brooklyn as well." I said to them, hinting for them to leave. Laura looked hesitantly from Sebastian to me, her eyes darting frantically. Finn took her by the arm and they walked off in the opposite direction When they were finally out of my sight I turned to Sebastian who still wore a look of dismay on his face. "Why the hell did you do that?" I yelled at him swinging the oven mitt near him. Sebastian didn't even flinch, he stayed motionless as he watched the area Laura and Finn veered off too. He looked almost upset. "I think you need to go talk to Brooklyn." "Why? We were never meant to last." His tone was as hard as his face. Sebastian was starting to act ominous. I turned on the fan above the oven to try and clear the smell of the burnt food. Sebastian had started to leave out of the kitchen but I jogged after him. "What are you talking about? One minute you're making out with me the next you have become morose!" My voice was starting to become less composed. Becoming more resigned, his lip twitched as he watched the movements out of the window. "I didn't think she would actually invite him." He said flatly. "Who?" I started to sound like a desperate owl. I stared out of the same large window as he did. I was confused more than ever because of the coded language he spoke. We stood there together in silence as onlookers. "You are not very observant are you Chef Caroline?" He murmured. I chuckled not sure whether to answer that question or feel offended. "What's that suppose to mean?" I asked. He sighed. "When you see it come find me before I leave and maybe we will have one final pity party. This time I'll bring the cake." He brushed his hand against my arm before walking away. I wanted to stop him, but I knew I had to let him go. An hour had passed since I last saw Sebastian, since I saw anyone really. Everyone apparently had gone missing. As I got dressed and put on the dress my mother oh so desperately wanted wanted me to wear. I played the last few conversations I had with Sebastian in my head like a broken record. He was perfectly fine until Laura and Finn showed up then something happened. I clasped my necklace around my neck struggling a few times to get the clasp to open. Once it did I pressed the crescent moon against my chest. Walking back downstairs again I saw Laura in the place Sebastian once sat. Once she saw it was me I expected her to look at me with utter disgust. Instead when she noticed it was me she looked though as if she was crying and quickly climbed off of the stool and ran off weeping some more. I thought about going after her, but the way she took off suggested she didn't want my company. I walked outside and the warm breeze had hit me at once. Causing my dress to fly back in the wind around me. The sound of air whooshed through my ears. Music was faintly playing, lilac and silver balloons were tied almost everywhere. Off to the side were rows and rows of tiny cupcakes some with purple frosting and some with white frosting that had edible pearls sprinkled on top. Tall macaroon towers were on each table next to fruit tarts. I stole a tiny blueberry off of one as I strolled to the next table. My mother's birthday cake sat on that one. It was a round three tier white cake, covered with a colorful arrangement of beautiful flowers. I looked at up and I noticed I was steps away from the pathway Sebastian and I stumbled upon once upon a time ago. I hiked up the bottom of my dress so that it wouldn't leave stains and I took a walk down memory lane. I slipped off of my shoes so that I could feel the grass underneath my feet. Once I reached the steeping stones I knew I was getting closer. I saw fallen lemons and the sight made me smile because of the way we fooshly tried to take them. I stopped walking when I heard noise coming from behind the yellow daffodils. It sounded like someone was engaging in pleasurable acts. I was ready to storm around and condemn them for exposing themselves at my mother's party. When I saw it was my sister and Finn I quickly jumped backed bumping into my mother. "If my garden walls could talk, the vines would blush." {Part 3 out of 3}

[winterisakillerwrites]

Get Better - Chapter Thirteen

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 13/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between.

Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for being an absolute godsend in regards to this story. I would truly be dead in the water without you.

Previous

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Sophie, he is such a sweet little thing.” Tom cooed softly as he looked down at the squirming bundle in his arms. With the play and all the chaos that brought, he hadn’t had a chance to stop by and meet the newest arrival in the Cumberbatch household until that afternoon. The little boy in his arms blinked up at Tom with bright and curious blue eyes. The baby was just three months old and Tom had to admit he was completely smitten.

“He really is, isn’t he?” Sophie stood a few feet back, smiling warmly at the sight before her. “He’s settling in quite well all things considered. Much better than Kit or even Hal did. That’s been a godsend.”

Tom chuckled, looking up at Sophie. “Ben’s said as much. I’m glad things are going well.” He bounced the little boy in his arms, turning back to make silly faces at him. “They really are a delight at this age.” He remembered both Cora and Allie when they’d been this small and just how taken with them he’d been.

“Just be careful he…”

A small hand deftly curled itself around a lock of Tom’s hair and pulled with a surprising strength. Tom let slip a startled yelp and worked quickly to untangle the tiny fingers from his hair.

Sophie winced in sympathy. “…Grabs hair.”

Tom laughed, “Duly noted.” The little boy in his arms shifted, nuzzling his face into Tom’s chest and made soft grunting noises. “I’m sorry, my lad, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to get you what you need there.” He glanced quickly up at Sophie who smiled, nodding, and stepped closer to take her son. “Alright, you get to go back to mummy now.”

Gently, he laid the now fussy baby in his mother’s arms and watched as she bounced him lightly, murmuring soft words against his head, and walked from the room. Ben pattered in a few moments later, Kit clinging tightly to his back, laughing. “I see you’ve scared Sophie and the baby off.”

“Ha,” Tom snorted. “I was unable to provide your youngest son with the sustenance he sought so handed him back to his mother. They headed upstairs, I believe.”

At the mention of his mother, Kit’s attention became laser focused. “Mummy upstairs?” Kit queried, looking between his father and Tom.

“Yes, Kit. Mummy is upstairs with Bubby.” It amused Tom to no end that Ben (and Sophie) had taken to calling their littlest one ‘Bubby’. He’d laughed uproariously the first time he’d heard Ben refer to the small boy as such. Something Ben hadn’t found nearly as amusing in his sleep-deprived state.g

The three year-old blinked at his father before squirming to get down. Ben obligingly lowered him to the floor and was nearly knocked over as the boy sprinted from the living room towards the stairs. He shot Tom an apologetic look and darted after her son.

Laughing, Tom shook his head and listened as two sets of feet ascended the staircase in the hall at a fairly decent speed. He pulled his mobile from his pocket and quickly scrolled through his messages; Luke with a reminder about the phone meeting he had with Disney the following day, Emma asking if he were free for dinner with their mother on Sunday, and Luke once more reminding him of his reminder. Tom sighed, he adored the man, honestly he did, but sometimes Luke’s neuroses drove him up the wall.

He responded to both of Luke’s messages with a simple yes, he remembered and no he wouldn’t forget. As Sunday’s were the theatre’s dark day, he quickly sent an affirmative to Emma who responded with several smiley faces and promised to pass to the message to their mother. He looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stair and watched Ben round the corner childless. “It seems Daddy is a poor substitute for Mummy at this juncture.”

“Isn’t that always the case?”

Ben quirked an eyebrow, “Watch it.”

Tom simply grinned in response, reaching for the bottle of water he’d nicked from the fridge before he’d been handed Ben’s youngest. He twisted off the cap and took a few quick swallows. “So I take it Kit’s been a bit clingy with Sophie as of late?”

“Very much so. Which has been both a boon and a bit of a logistical nightmare depending on the day.” Ben shook his head before wandering towards the kitchen. Tom heard cabinets opening and closing, the clink of a mug onto a counter, the quiet roar of a kettle coming to boil, the shuffling of feet across the floor. And then Ben was back, a steaming mug in hand. He made his way towards the chair across from Tom’s position on the couch and settled himself down. “Sorry about that. Caffeine is required if I am going to be at all social.”

Tom waved a hand. “Not to worry. I completely understand.”

Ben smiled and took a sip from the steaming mug, wincing briefly at the heat. “So, how is life treating you, Tom?”

“Rather well. I’m having a fantastic time with the show, it’s a lot but I’m honestly enjoying it.”

“And how are things with Cath?” There was a twinkle in Ben’s eye that Tom did not trust in the slightest.

Tom worked to keep his face in what he hoped was a neutral expression. “Fine. We’ve all been busy with the show.”

“That’s a bit…evasive, Tom, even for you. What’s happened?” Ben leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, mug of tea between his hands.

“What makes you think something’s happened?”

“If I hadn’t thought so before, that terrible deflecting question would have left no doubt in my mind.” He shook his head. “What’s happened, Tom? Because clearly something has. And knowing you, either you’ve waited too long and she’s found someone else or you’ve made some grand gesture and she’s turned you down.”

Tom scoffed, a vain attempt to cover the hurt Ben’s words evoked. It was frightening, to see just how well the man sitting beside him truly knew him. And just as frightening to realize how he had no argument against the accusations. He’d done such things far more often than he truly wanted to acknowledge or contemplate. A much louder part of him wanted nothing more than to snarl out that Ben had no idea what he was talking about. That things were fine and “what happened between me and Cath was nothing in the scheme of things.”

He looked up when the silence between them had grown just a touch too long. And the expression on Ben’s face told him that he’d said at least part of what he’d been thinking out loud.

“What do you mean? It’s nothing in the scheme of things?” Ben leant forward, placing his mug onto the wood and glass coffee table, and then clasped his hands in his lap. His eyes locked on Tom, confusion and curiosity shining in them. “What happened?”

Tom cursed under his breath. Now that Ben knew something had happened there was no chance in hell that he would let it alone. “It was nothing. Just a stupid moment of…Nothing.”

He could feel the skepticism rolling off Ben in waves. “You wouldn’t be this bloody worked up over nothing. What did you do?”

“I kissed her,” Tom finally whispered. And knowing Ben would latch onto that rushed to add on, “I walked with her to get a cab after we’d all gone out…And I just…It happened. And then the day after I tried to…” The words came out in a jumbled rush. “And she said she understood and there were no hard feelings. But I just…I tried to…”

Ben blinked uncomprehendingly for several moments before clearing his throat. “You tried to what?”

Tom shook his head. “I tried to apologize. We’d been drinking and it just happened…I just…I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

“Did you give her a chance to speak her side or did you just blunder in and make an ass of yourself?”

Tom let his gaze fall down to his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. “I didn’t want to mess things up any more than I already had. We had been drinking and I just…I wanted to give her an out.”

“You utter, utter moron! I can’t even…Jesus, Tom! How someone so bloody intelligent can be so goddamn fucking idiotic, I can’t even begin to wrap my head around.” Ben let out an exasperated breath, running his hands through his hair. He looked up at Tom. “So what you are telling me is you told her you didn’t mean for it to happen and then she told you more or less that you were both drinking and it’s not a big deal?”

Tom nodded silently.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe that wasn’t what she wanted? That she was simply giving you the answer she thought you wanted?” He took in Tom’s bewildered expression and sighed. “Think about it, Tom. She works with you. And when it comes to power balance, those scales are tipped so much more heavily in your favor. If she kicked up a fuss it would reflect poorly on her current and future career prospects. And she has to know that.”

“But I would never…” Tom sputtered, eyes wide as the implications of what Ben had suggested registered fully.

“I know you would’t. And you know you wouldn’t. But Cath…” Ben let the sentence hang.

Tom felt his stomach twist itself into knots at the thought that Cath would believe him capable of such a thing. God, yes he’d done things he was certainly not proud of but he would never, never knowingly use his position of power in such a way. Surely, she knew that.

He let his mind drift back to the kiss and how he’d behaved the morning after. He’d been up half that night worrying he’d messed things up between them in that one stupid, thoughtless moment. All he’d wanted to do was fix it. So he tried to apologize, tried to explain. The brief flash of disappointment and hurt he’d seen in her eyes ate at him. But she’d covered so well and ever since had acted as though nothing had happened. That things were fine.

“God, I’m an idiot,” Tom murmured dropping his head into his hands.

“At last,” Ben exclaimed with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting years for you to come to that realization.” He steadfastly ignored the glare Tom shot him. Ben clapped his hands together and carried on. “The first step to fixing things is to admit you’ve got a problem. And now that you’ve accomplished that next comes figuring out how to make it right.”

“It’s been almost three weeks, Ben. I don’t know if there is a way of making it right now.”

Ben blinked. “Three weeks?”

Tom nodded.

“When you blow it, by George, you truly do it in style.” The laughter in Ben’s voice was belied by the look of incredulity and exasperation painted across his features.

“Thanks, mate. That is so very helpful,” Tom snapped, grabbing his water bottle from the table and twisting the cap off. He took two deep swallows, trying to keep his temper in check. To stamp down his guilt. There was nothing he could do about any of this now and he knew it. He’d waited too long.

“Don’t do that.”

Tom glanced up at Ben in annoyed confusion. “Drink? I didn’t know you were the sole authority on water consumption.”

“Stop with the snark, Thomas, it doesn’t suit you.” Ben rubbed his face with his hands. “What I meant was stop thinking that the end is nigh. Yes, you made a complete cock up of the situation, but that doesn’t mean that this cannot be set to rights.” He clapped his hands together and locked his eyes on Tom. “Talk. To. Her. Don’t put it off. Just pull her aside and tell her you didn’t mean what you said. That it wasn’t a mistake.”

“Ben…”

“Don’t ‘Ben’ me. You know I am right. For once, Tom, just for once don’t be you. Don’t assume you know what is going on and refuse to see the woods for the trees. Talk to Cath. Tell her what you are feeling and see if there is anything worth pursuing between you. See if it’s worth the risk. To you. To her. Just don’t write yourself off just yet.”

Tom swallowed and shook his head. “That is easier said than done.” He held up his hand to stop the protest he saw forming on Ben’s lips. “I understand you want to help and I do appreciate it. I honestly do. But it isn’t that simple. If I was going to say something I should have done so already and I know that.”

“Yes you should have,” Ben agreed. “But just because you haven’t yet doesn’t mean you can’t do so now. Just keep that in mind. Just try.”

                                                           —

Ben’s words echoed in the back of Tom’s mind as April bled into May. He threw himself into his work, spending time with family and friends when he could. He’d fallen into a quiet routine with Cath. They spoke briefly before and after the show as his make-up was applied then later removed. Polite conversation centering mainly around the show or theatre in general. Very rarely tipping over into anything of a personal nature. Cath was still warm and friendly, but there was a distance between them now. One he wasn’t quite sure how to breach. Or if he even should.

The first week of May found him in Emma’s living room. He’d spent most of the early afternoon playing with Allie while Emma flitted around the house tying up various loose ends. Tom took great pleasure in spending time with his youngest niece. She was clever and honest to a fault, but with the whimsical air only young children seemed to possess. This afternoon in particular she poured him imaginary tea which he took and then drank with a relish.

Allie looked up at Tom, a quizzical expression on her face. “Uncle Tommy?”

“Yes, darling?”

“How’s your princess?”  

“My what?”

“Your princess. I wanna see princess. She promised.”

He very nearly swallowed his tongue at Allie’s frank statement and her bold assumption that he had any claim on Cath at all. She wasn’t his, no matter how much he might have wished. He’d shot that chance to hell; first with his inadvertent dismissal of what happened between them and second with his current inaction.

Tom brushed Allie off as gently as he could. “She’s been busy, Allie love. I will do my best to pass on your love when I see her next. Is that alright?”

Allie nodded, eyes brightening.

“Just her love?” Emma quipped, raising an eyebrow at her now flustered elder brother.

“Em, enough.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, alright? I’m late enough as is.” He turned his attention back towards Allie. “Sweetheart, I need to head to work now. You be a good girl, alright. I will try to talk to the princess as soon as I see her.”

Tonight, he hoped. She’d been gone for nearly a week now (visiting her mother Lorna had explained after the second day of his admittedly persistent questions) and each day since he’d entered the dressing room hoping to see her standing at her station only to be let down when he found it empty. But maybe tonight…

Allie smiled, seemingly completely content with that answer. “Okay!”

Bending down, he kissed Allie on the head. He felt her small arms lock around his lower leg. She held him tightly for a moment before letting go. Pushing himself to his full height, Tom nodded at his sister, turning to head for the front door.

“Don’t think this is over, Thomas.”

“I never thought it would be,” he called, pulling the door closed behind him. The pavements outside of his sister’s home were crowded though most seemed to pay him little mind. He wandered, hands in his pockets, towards the underground station a few streets over.

                                                         —

Cath loved her mother; loved her fiercely. Honestly she did. But after almost a week with her, she had never been more grateful to be home. Her mother, usually a no-nonsense woman, had been particularly…trying. It has started out small, simple questions about her work; curiosity about the show she was involved in and interest in whatever stories Cath was willing to share. Despite her initial reluctance, Farrah Richardson had slowly come to embrace the work her daughter so clearly loved. She might never truly understand why Cath loved it but as long as she was happy and able to support herself, Farrah could accept it.

Soon, though, her idle curiosity grew into more leading questions. How was she getting along with the cast and crew? What about this Tom she’d mentioned more than once? Just who was he?

Her mother wasn’t one so easily deterred, though. Despite Cath’s attempts to deflect or to steer the conversation to more neutral ground, Farrah pushed and pressed. Cath found herself wondering just why she’d volunteered to stay in the first place. If she’d wanted the third degree she would have stayed in London with Lorna.

Cath tried as best she could to explain that Tom was just one of the actors in the show. He was just someone she’d gotten to know casually and had been friendly with. Nothing more. “We’re not even what you would call friends, mum. He’s just a nice bloke who is easy to talk with. I mean all he does is talk, it’s hard to get a word in edgewise half the time. It’s nothing more than that.”

The skeptical expression painted across her features made it quite clear just how little Farrah bought the story her daughter was selling. She’d nodded though, adding, “If you say so, Catey love.”  And continued to ask thinly veiled questions about Tom.

Cath had very nearly jumped for joy when her mother had been given the all clear to return to normal activities without supervision (and truth be told it was clear Farrah was more than ready to return to her own ordered life as well). Cath had driven her mother home, kissed her goodbye, and caught the first train back to London. There had been delays both on the way to the train station and then with the train itself which held her for longer than she’d liked, but once she’d gotten onto the train and heading towards King’s Cross, Cath couldn’t find it in her to care overly much how long it took.

She’d gotten back to her flat at nearly seven in the evening. Once her bag was emptied and a load of washing sorted, Cath collapsed gratefully onto her couch where she remained until quarter after nine when her mobile rang. She let out a soft stream of curses as she pushed herself off of the couch and hurried to the side table where she’d dropped her purse. The name flashing across the screen told her Lorna was the unfortunate soul who sought to disrupt her peace and solitude. Cath contemplated simply not answering, she wasn’t technically due back until the following day. Whatever crisis could surely wait until then.

Her sense of professionalism, however, couldn’t let it slide. “Please tell me you’ve not burned the dressing rooms down.”

“Such faith, Cath. I’m touched,” Lorna quipped back, her laughter echoing loudly across the line. “Everything is fine…I am in massive need of a drink, mind you.”

“Is this your way of sussing out if I’ve made in home yet?”

“And have you?”

Cath let out a slow, soft chuckle. “Possibly…”

“Perfect. You. Me. Drinks like yesterday?”

“Has it been that bad?”

“Please, Cath. Please. I need this.”

She’d avoided most of the after show get-together’s Lorna had tried to drag her to. Well not avoided, per say, but found reasons to skip out. She’d told herself it was because she was tired, or she had plans the next morning. She’d gone to a few though, mostly when the cast couldn’t make it (mostly when Tom couldn’t make it) and she tried not to think too much on the reasons behind that.

“Alright, tell me when and where.”

Cath made it to the pub shortly before ten and found Lorna waiting at a table in the corner. Charlie and Zawe were there as well. “No Tom?” She asked, settling into the open chair at the far end of the table.

Zawe shot her a look and quickly shook her head. “Nah. He had some meeting/phone thing he couldn’t get out of.”

“Ah.” She let her purse slip from her shoulder, draping it over the back of the chair.

“Cath!” Lorna exclaimed jumping up and running around the table to embrace Cath, nearly knocking her off her feet in the process. “You are never, ever allowed to take a week off ever again. Do you hear me?”

Cath laughed and nodded. “It’s not like I had a great deal of choice. My mum couldn’t be alone, not after the surgery. God knows she tried…”

Lorna waved her hand, extracting herself and returning to her own chair. “I know, I know. You were off being the dutiful daughter, as you should have been. But my god, it’s been a hell of a week.” She took a deep drink from the pint of cider before her.

“Tell me about it,” Cath chuckled, taking a sip from the glass of white wine Lorna unceremoniously shoved into her hand. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Enjoy it,” Lorna smirked. “The next rounds’ on you.”

Cath chuckled. “That bad? I don’t believe it.”

“These two,” Lorna started, pointing at Charlie and Zawe, “were good as gold. Tom ‘I can’t sit still to save my damned life’ Hiddleston, however…” She took another sip of her cider. “I don’t know how you put up with him. I swear I was sorely tempted to duct tape his squirming arse to the fucking chair.”

Laughter erupted from Cath and she had to place her wine glass on the table to keep herself from inadvertently spilling it. “Oh Lorn. He really is a menace, isn’t he?”

“And now he is firmly your issue once again.”

“Joy of joys,” she quipped back, taking another sip of her wine.

Zawe quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so thrilled.”

“You try putting stage makeup on a six foot two puppy and see how much you like it.”

Tom was fidgety at the best of times and at two months into the run he had only just started to settle. Part of her wondered if his awkwardness had anything to do with the kiss and its aftermath. He’d been more subdued, quieter after that night. Cath hadn’t let herself think too much on it. He’d clearly regretted his actions and felt pulling back was the safest course of action. So she’d pulled back as well. Things were finally almost normal between them and she hoped her absence wouldn’t set them back once more.

“Fair point,” Zawe conceded. Beside her Charlie snorted into his lager. “He’s fun enough in rehearsals, can’t keep from moving to save his life. You both have my pity.”

“But he seems to put in an effort with you,” Charlie pointed out, nodding at Cath. “You scold him and it’s like he’s a kicked puppy, all wide eyes and apologies.”

“I’m not that bad,” Cath countered. This was not the path she felt like treading down. Particularly not in present company. But she felt Lorna and Zawe’s eyes focus on her and knew the fates had other plans in mind. “Seriously, stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Lorna asked, a smirk spreading across her face. “Like there’s been a definite shift in the dynamics between you and Tom. Cause there has been. Don’t try and deny it,” she pointed out tipping her near empty glass in Cath’s direction. “You’ve both been walking around eggshells with each other ever since that night in the pub when he walked you out.”

“To right,” Zawe added, resting her elbows on the table. “You’ve both been off ever since. Don’t look at me like that, it’s obvious something happened.”

“Nothing’s happened,” Cath shot back a bit too sharply to be entirely convincing. She winced at the narrowed looks she received in response. “He walked me out and helped me hail a taxi. He was just being polite. You know how he is, all impeccable manners and the like.”

Lorna rolled her eyes. “Pull the other one, Richardson, it’s got bells on.”

“You lot are impossible,” Cath breathed, shaking her head. “He and I are work colleagues. He’s a nice bloke but that’s as far as it goes.”

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” Lorna countered. “Because you should have seen his face when he realized you weren’t coming in this past week…Crestfallen’s the word that springs to mind.” She smirked knowingly at Cath. “So tell me again nothing happened between the two of you because I don’t believe that for a moment. And neither does anyone else.”

“Honestly, Lorn. Nothing happened. He was being his usual gentlemanly self. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sorry he was a pain in the arse this week. Hopefully he’ll be better behaved now. So can we leave this be? I came out tonight to have drinks with my friend, not to face the Spanish Inquisition.”

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!” Charlie quoted with a hearty laugh. A round of amused chuckles followed, breaking the tension that had sprung up around the table.  

Cath pushed herself to her feet  and nodded her head back at the bar. “So who’s up for another round?”

Next

[lovedyouless]

connor mcdavid/leon draisaitl masterpost

tbh this is all you need to know about them:

posted and captioned by teammate and frequent linemate patrick maroon. 

but if you want more ...

connor mcdavid

everyone in hockey knows who connor mcdavid is. drafted number one in 2015, connor is frequently mentioned in the same breath as wayne gretzky and sidney crosby (he’s canadian too, of course). he’s fast, he’s skilled and he was named as the youngest ever nhl captain at the start of 2016′s season. anytime you see connor on the ice, he’s probably wearing a ‘c’ whether it’s for the erie otters where he played in the ohl, for the oilers, team north america or even the 2017 all star weekend. he’s a Big Deal and everyone loves him (except maybe brandon manning).

connor is very humble

(x)

okay connor but you’re VERY GOOD AT HOCKEY, YOU CAN’T HAVE EVERYTHING IN LIFE 

his bff during his ohl years was dylan strome (drafted to the coyotes). connor hung back after his draft to watch dylan get picked. connor and dylan are Very Soft

connor is very polite to his elders, referring to them by their title such as mr crosby

(x)

sid finds this hilarious.

connor is so good that subban, one of the best defencemen in the league, can only resort to blatant hugging cheating to contain him

(x)

connor’s rookie year was going great until he got injured (damn you manning) and broke his collar bone. 2016/2017 marks his first full year in the nhl. 

leon draisaitl

leon was born in germany and is two years older than connor (more like 14 months but who’s counting). occasionally he fools people by pronouncing ‘out’ like a true canadian, but he’s definitely german. his dad was a german hockey player. leon is the highest drafted german player ever in the nhl - he was drafted third in 2014. leon can speak four languages. like connor, his natural position is center BUT MORE ON THAT LATER. 

leon, by the way, just very casually looks like this: 

(x)

AND I AM VERY MAD ABOUT HIS FACE ALL THE TIME. this is a rare smiley leon though. usually his interviews look more like this: 

(x)

by the way, this is his face after he scored the overtime winner for team europe. excited, huh?

before they became nhl superstars, leon and connor were baby prospects together touring the Rogers Place during it’s build. the whole video is great because leon is just SO INQUISITIVE and asking lots of questions and connor mostly spends the video laughing at leon?

in a fun twist of fate, leon scored the last oilers goal at Rexall Place before they moved to Rogers Place

try and control your glee there, leon.

connor and leon have become regular linemates in the 2016/2017 season and have killed it this year

leon’s natural position is center but he’s spent much of this year on connor’s wing. did i mention that connor is very very fast? 

"I just saw Connor take off and it's pretty hard to keep up, let me tell you," said Draisaitl. "I just got on my horse and tried to catch up and get open for a shot."

it’s okay though, because connor is not great at everything (yet). leon takes most of his faceoffs in games and they practice them together (warning: leon turns into a competitive giggly monster when he wins and connor accepts his loss with a happy grin)

(x)

because usually-grumpy-looking leon actually smiles a lot around connor

(x)

also their hugs are ridiculous

(x)

like who raises their arms like that, leon??

(x)

here it is from another angle and it’s just as terrible. also, connor LET GO OF DARNELL because he saw leon coming and wanted two arms free so they can octopus around each other?? THE WORST.

(x)

this is connor’s ‘about to hug leon’ face and it’s just as terrible as you thought it was gonna be

i like to call this their ‘caught red handed but we’re still not letting go of each other’ pose

(x)

this is great because leon is a huge solid hunk of man who is almost impossible to knock off his feet and connor is very much smaller than him but leon drops his arm and lets connor fold himself into leon

(x)

did i mention that connor is smaller than leon? because here he is fitting himself into a tiny space next to leon rather than, i don’t know, standing somewhere else with more room??

@ edmontonoilers: pre-game pals

EVEN THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA TEAM SHIPS IT

(x)

also here is leon chilling in the sin bin. wanna guess why he’s here? if you guessed that he took a run at manning (as previously mentioned, he took out connor in his rookie year for a few months and cost connor the calder. he also apparently chirped connor earlier in the season to say the hit was deliberate, so obviously leon stepped in to avenge his captain)

anyway. as it turns out, they’re pretty close off ice too. here they are enjoying a date night by hanging out with patrick maroon and his son and playing some ball aka pat knows his teammates are in love aka connor is trying to show off for leon but anthony is kicking his ass

(x)

here they are enjoying a double date with nuge and ebs (leon of course looking cool as fucking ice while the other three look like idiots)

here they are being interrupted on their date with darnell. you will often find darnell third wheeling

inseparable. also they all look super hot here.

THE OILERS KNOW, GUYS. THEY KNOW.

okay, leon, okay

leon deliberately cropping out darnell so he can post a picture of him and connor, and both of them sounding entirely unapologetic about it

“Leon, you and Connor are one point away from one hundred, wouldn’t it be kind of special to get that point on the same goal?”

“Yeah I mean, it’d be fun. Obviously he’s played about 1000 games less than I have, but um, you know it’s a nice milestone and it’d be nice to get it together.”

FUNNILY ENOUGH ... okay they didn’t get it on the same goal because connor is an overachiever always and got his 100th point first, but leon’s 100th point came in the same night, an assist on a connor goal of course

ANYWAY it’s not all about the hugs and fate and being bros together

or giggling off the ice

(x)

(honestly, have you ever seen leon this happy when he’s not scoring/assisting/winning games?? no, no you haven’t)

they’re also super supportive of each other

(x)

or that time when the Flames tried to hook leon and then took a hit (which didn’t even knock him off his feet because he’s a fucking tank, tkachuk falls to the ice though which is hilarious) and connor takes offence and defends leon’s honor

“Leon, this morning Connor said you might be one of the most underrated players in the NHL. Does that matter to you?

(x)

HAHAHAHAHAHA WELL IT SURE MATTERS TO ME IN CASE ANYONE WANTS TO KNOW

we should also talk about the fact that connor has this strange habit ...

of just taking leon’s things? 

totally normal to have an interview wearing your teammates hoodie. tell me connor, does it carry leon’s scent? does it hang off you because leon’s shoulders are ridiculously broad? DID YOU TAKE IT ON PURPOSE??

MOVING ON. we should definitely talk about connor’s 100th point this season to win the Art Ross because i love FATE. of course connor gets his 100th point on leon’s goal. OF COURSE. connor really, really wanted that 100th point which is understandable because who wants to finish the season on 99? he turns to hug leon immediately (of course) and leon stops for a quick hug before he’s off to grab the puck for connor JUST IN CASE IT GOES MISSING GUYS, HE WANTS THAT PUCK FOR CONNOR except he realises that caggiula already has it so he goes back for another hug EXCEPT the rest of the guys are there and that’s fine, but leon wants his own hug so he grabs connor from behind as they head for the bench and they just coast together for a second, completely flush against each other and i’m super chill about the whole thing, guys.

(x)

anyway this is the most important moment ever caught on camera. also, leon just leaps into the air with him and catches him and he lands without even a stumble like?? HOW STRONG ARE YOU LEON??

anyway, in conclusion, these two fools are in love and everyone should jump on board and they’re probably gonna accidentally kiss one of these days after a goal

[mekers]

Error of his Ways

Chapter 2

After sprinting down the town's main street Frisk came up on her house. She lived with Toriel and Flowey. It was a medium sized two story house, with a nice patio and a large back yard. Toriel wanted to stay humble and keep to a small place.

She quickly pushed open through the front door and pulled her cell phone from her back pocket. She quickly tapped on the screen and went to send a message to Sans. Frisk: Hey Sans, I met someone really cool today...It's kind of funny he looks like you.

She didn't expect him to reply right away; she still had about fifteen more minutes before Sans would be on his break. She put the phone back in her pocket, and quickly kicked off her shoes and made her way into the kitchen to fix something to eat.

She spied a yellow flower at the window sill over the sink and it turned to face her.

"Welcome home Frisk.." He waved his leaves at her, and watched her pull open the fridge.

*Hello Flowey, are you hungry?* She pulled out some lunch meat, and some cheese. He nod his head, his petals slightly swaying as he did so. She set the items on the counter and went to the pantry to pull out a loaf of bread.

"You were out later than usual.. did something happen?" He stretched out his vines and pulled himself down on the counter. His pot making a light clank as he set himself down.  Frisk paused briefly but  quickly set out four slices of bread and started slapping the lunch meat on them.

"Frisk.." His voice was stern. She stopped opening the cheese slice and huffed. She set it down and turned to face him.

*I was just visiting with the Monsters in town.* It technically wasn't a lie, but not fully the truth either. She went back to opening the cheese packets and set a slice on each stack of meat, then set the bread on top. Flowey knew Frisk had been keeping to herself more often then not, and tried not to pry. They all had their secrets after all.

"What ever you say.. Frisk. Just try not to worry Tori-I mean mom.." He took the sandwich that she offered to him, and took a bite from it. It might have looked strange to anyone else. A flower eating a sandwich. She smiled also taking a bite of her sandwich..

Sans sighed while taking off his glasses to set them on his work desk. They had been working on a project to make magic the fuel for newer rocket ships. Only problem was finding out how to store large amounts of magic and creating a structure that would allow the ship to use it in bursts when needed with out running out too quickly.

"Geez.. my bones sure are tired.." He tilted his head to the side rubbing his vertebrae. "Break time.." He pushed his chair back and stood up shoving his hands in his lab coat pocket. He grabbed his cell phone and noticed he had a text from Frisk. He chuckled while tapping the screen. He had to cover his finger tips with his magic for the screen to register that he was using it.

He was just about to enter the break room when he read the message and his eye lights went out.

Kiddo: Hey Sans, I met someone really cool today...It's kind of funny he looks like you.

He re-read the message over a few times, and looked up and quickly ran over to the counter to grab a cup of coffee. His bones were rattling nervously, and he quickly poured some into a mug only spilling it slightly. He quickly blew on it then took a large gulp before going back to the message. He took a a deep breath and set the mug down before replying.

Sans: Hey kiddo, that's pretty cool.. how did he look like me exactly? The lucky devil must be swimming in the ladies.. ;P

He kind of chuckled, but quickly sighed wracking his free hand over his eye sockets. He hoped that this guy didn't look like him. Surely Gaster couldn't be back after all these years.. It wouldn't make sense.

Frisk was just finishing her sandwich when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She smiled and took it out and swiped to get to the message. She read the message and scoffed. Sans was always joking about his looks.

Frisk: Well he was a skeleton monster like you. He was different.. His bones were red, and he wore a jacket and shorts similar to you too. They were black though. He was nice.

Flowey watched her type away on her keyboard, and rolled his eyes. He knew who she was texting. She almost never texted anyone else besides Sans. "Smiley trash bag I presume?" He snickered at the name, and twitched his petals.

Frisk stuck her tongue out at him, and turned on her heel to exit the kitchen. Flowey huffed "Hey! Wait for me.. Frisk!" He called out for her, using his vines to walk himself and his pot into the living room where she was now situated on the couch.

Sans phone pinged and he hesitated before reading the message. After a few seconds the mug shattered on the floor, coffee splashing on the cabinets and tile. Sans held his phone, his bones were shaking and blue sweat was beading down the back of his school.

'It can't be.. It has to be a mistake..' He nervously replied to her, and ran out of the break room. His coat fluttering after him.

Sans: Heh well ain't that something. Guess who just got off the next few days.. maybe you can introduce me?

He ran into his office and shot Alphys an e-mail saying he had an emergency and would need to take off for the next few days and not to worry as he had plenty of sick time. The project was at a stand still anyway; so a nice break would help him to relax his mind. He shrugged off his coat, and shut down his computer and gathered his things before heading out of the office and locking it up behind him. He would simply teleport home, but he was too far away.

"Please kid.. don't do anything stupid.." He mumbled under his breath as he walked down the hallway to exit the compound.

Frisk read the message and clapped her hands together happily. It had been awhile since she had seen Sans! Flowey titled his head at her, and a small smirk graced his face. "Smiley trash bag coming home?" Frisk glared at Flowery.

*You know I don't like you calling him that!* She hesitated then smiled brightly again. She was always a ray of sunshine. And that's Ironic as he was a a bright yellow flower. *Yes though.. He's coming home! I'm so excited. It'll be nice to catch up.* She swiped down her contacts and looked at the newest addition. Error. Would he be upset if she texted him now? She chewed on the bottom of her lip her finger hovering over the message button next to his name.

"Guess the peace couldn't last forever.." Flowey remarked sarcastically under his breath. Frisk arched her brow unhappily at him and decided to ignore his comment.

She once again stared at Error's contact in her phone. 'C'mon Frisk..' She found her confidence and tapped the message button and began typing out a message to Error. Unknown Number: Hey it's Frisk.

That would be good enough for now. She sighed in relief and laid her head back against the couch. Flowey used his vines to reach for the remote control for the tv, and switched it on. "When's Toriel supposed to be home?" Flowey asked her while flipping through the channels.

She was about to sign to him, but noticed he wasn't looking and tapped him on the back of his head. He blinked for a second then chuckled under his breath and looked up at her. "Sorry.. I for get sometimes.." She frowned at him. *She should be home in the next hour. She had a meeting with Asgore..*

"Ah.. I see.." Flowey went back to watching the tv. The two of them often found themselves on the couch. Frisk would sometimes read a book, and Flowey would read the book from behind her or sleep curled up next to her.

After about an hour or so; there was the sound of the front door being unlocked and the door swinging open. "Frisk.. Flowey. I'm home my children!" Toriel walked through the door. Frisk and Flowey both waved at her from the couch.

"I have a surprise for the both of you! Look who I found hovering at our doorstep.." She covered her maw with her paw trying to hide her snickering. A familiar skeleton shuffled in shyly behind her. Frisk's face lit up immediately and she jumped up off the couch to run over to him.

He rubbed the back of his skull. "Heh, Heya Kiddo. Long time no see.. Were ya bonely without me?" He chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulling him up into a hug. His slippers falling off his feet as she lifted him into the air.

Flowey rolled his eyes. "Hello, trash bag.."

Toriel scoffed at Flowey, but quickly shut the door behind Sans, and ushered Frisk to carry him further into the living room. Frisk smiled and finally set him down in the middle of the room. He adjusted his blue jacket and coughed to clear his throat.

"Flowerpot.." He glared at Flowey but then turned his sockets back to the two women in front of him.

*Sans, how did you get here so fast? I thought you couldn't teleport from that far away. Please don't hurt yourself.*  She frowned at him and crossed her arms over her chest. Sans just shrugged his shoulders and looked at her through lidded sockets.

"I took a bus part way, and when I got close enough I just started teleporting until I got here." He said it as if it wasn't a big deal. Toriel giggled, and came up behind Frisk to rest her paws on her shoulders while gazing down at the short skeleton.

"Well, I am glad you made it safely, try not to use too much of your magic. Are you hungry? I was going to make snail pie for dinner tonight." Sans grin tightened; he didn't much care for snail pie, but he wasn't about to be rude. "Sure why not.. I'm just dying to have some." Toriel giggled, and Frisk puffed out her cheeks. "I mean c'mon, I'm all bone here.." He shoved up his jacket sleeves to show off his arms. He winked at them both, and Toriel walked off towards the kitchen still giggling under her breath.

He looked back to Frisk who seemed to have averted her gaze for the time being.

"So kid, how ya been holdin' up?" He walked over to slip his slipped back on his feet. If it's one that hadn't changed was Sans sense of fashion and comfort. His blue jacket had a few patches sewn on to it, and those pink slippers were really really ragged.

*I'm doing alright. What about you Sans? How is working at NASA? Is it everything you hoped it would be?* She motions him to come into the kitchen. He nod his skull and followed after her.

"It's everythin' and more kid. To be apart of a project that could change the way we travel to space, and possibly get us further and out there more.. It's..nnh.." Frisk looked back over her shoulder at him, and he has small blue stars in his eyes. She let out a raspy giggle and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. He stood there for a moment lost in thought, before realizing she was staring at him.

"Sorry.. didn' mean to space out on ya." He chuckled and sat down across from her, letting his gaze travel over to Toriel who was placing the pie in the oven. She pat her dress and turned to smile at him.

*How is Alphys taking to it? I know it must be hard on her relationship with Undyne.* Frisk looked sullen for a moment, before perking back up. The small clunk of a pot being moved across the floor caught Sans attention and he glared at Flowey.

"Yeah she complains a lot about long distance..They face time a lot though.. guess that 'elps." He drifts off as Flowey pulls himself up onto the table next to Frisk. Toriel hummed in response, and leaned back against the counter. "Poor dear, I can only imagine.."

Sans wanted to snort, but thought better of it. "So kiddo this friend you told me about.. what are they like?" He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Flowey looked to Frisk. She hadn't mentioned meeting a new friend. He scoffed and wiggled his leaves in annoyance.

Frisk grit her teeth, and tried to ease into the topic. Toriel seemed to brighten up at the mention of a new friend. Frisk had been so stand offish for awhile now, and anything to distract her would be a breath of fresh air. "You met a new friend my child?"

Frisk nod her head shyly and quickly signed with her hands. *He was standing in the field just at the edge of town, I had never seen anyone like him. So I approached him.* She paushed for a moment.

Sans brow bone arched. "What was he doin'?"

Frisk shrugged her shoulders, and turned up her lips in thought. *He had his hand reached out but that was about it. That was around the time I got his attention..*

Flowey titled his head and tried reading her expression. She was telling the truth from what he could feel from her. Toriel turned to check on the pie, and hummed happily when it was done. She put on an oven mitt and pulled it from the oven to set it on top on the stove. "Pie is ready!" She stated gleefully.

Frisk smiled, and was happy for a distraction. Sans hadn't stopped staring at her as she explained that they would be meeting again tomorrow. Toriel thought that it was a wonderful idea, and wondered if it was a human.

She set out plates and cut equal pieces for everyone. Sans still hadn't acknowledged the pie infront of him. "So ya say he looks like me eh?" He finally leans forward on his elbows and clasps his phalanges together. His stare was making Frisk squirm in her seat.

She nod her head and took a bite out of the pie. Flowey was using his vines to hold the fork while he ate and listened. It wasn't like Frisk to hide things from him, he wondered if this guy was bad news. Frisk was usually a good judge of character but she could be ignorant and naive to others intentions. The underground was proof of that. *Yes, he was a skeleton, but his bones were black and red..* Toriel paused at holding the fork to her mouth with her bite of pie. "A Skeleton you say?" She seemed perplexed. "My child are you sure?" Frisk shrugged and set her fork down. *That's what he looked like.. he also knew of Sans and Papyrus too.. when I asked him if he was related to you.* She was starting to feel uneasy.

Toriel pondered for a moment, and smiled, "Well there were thousands of monsters in the underground it is possible to not have known.." Sans rolled his eye lights. He knew that was a bunch of bull. Asgore and Toriel knew everyone in the underground.

*He agreed to meet me tomorrow, he seems like a nice guy.* She smiled and picked her fork back up. Sans sighed, and his expression relaxed. "Geez kid.. ready to jump his bones already?"

Toriel coughed into her paw at Sans comment and shot him a glare. Frisk stuck out her lip in a huffy pout. *Sans! I just met him!* Flowey glared at Sans as well.

Sans held up his hands in defense, "kiddn' kiddin.. geez tough crowd.." He finally picked up his fork and had to will himself to try it. He'd usually just douse anything he ate in large amounts of ketchup.  It wasn't so bad, but it could use ketchup.

"So Sans how long are you in town for?" Toriel asked a little more coldy, still slightly bothered by his previous joke. Sans chuckled and didn't bother looking at her. "Gonna be here for the next three days or so. Wanted to spend some time with my favorite human.." He winked at Frisk.

Frisk felt her cheeks turn pink, but she quickly looked down at her plate. *Would you like to come with me tomorrow to meet him?* She looked up at him apprehensively.She had always had a childhood crush on Sans since the day she met him, but over time she realized that he would never feel the same, so she never brought up her feelings and just enjoyed being friends. At times it was a bit awkward but she pressed on.

Sans shrugged and took another bite. "Nah, I wouldn't wanna be a third wheel. You have fun kid. Maybe we can hang out after?" Frisk smiled, and nod her head finishing her pie. She pushed back the chair and stood up taking her plate over to the sink. Flowey looked over at Sans, and sighed. He'd really hoped trash bag would have went.

"So what would that mean.. if he is indeed a skeleton?" Flowey finally spoke up. He wanted to know Sans opinion. Sans shrugged, his eye lights shrinking to small specks. "Not sure.. means we might have a relative we neva knew 'bout..Which would bring up a lot of questions.." Flowey's petals twitched. He could sense how unnerved he was.

"Well this has been lovely Tori. Thanks for dinner it was quite sans-sational." Toriel giggled and stood up to take his plate along with hers to the sink. "You are quite welcome, please do come back again before you head off. It was nice to see you again."

Sans smiled, and he stood up. Frisk was watching from the side of the counter. "Keep me posted kid.." He waved at her and he stuck out his tongue at Flowey before teleporting out of the kitchen. Flowey huffed and threw his fork down at the table. Frisk walked over and pat his head. He only tried to pull away. *One of these days.. I'll get you two to get along..*

Flowey looked appalled. "M-Me and Trashbag! N-Never!"

Toriel shook her head, and began to wash the dishes. "I believe it is time for bed my children. If you have an early day tomorrow, it is best to be well rested." Frisk sighed and turned to leave the kitchen to go upstairs and get ready for bed.

Frisk had quickly taken a shower and changed into a lavender night gown once finished.

She quickly picked up her phone to check to see if she had any missed messages. Sometimes not having phones at the dinner table was nice, other times it made Frisk's anxiety rise.

Her face lit up and she flopped down on her bed before swiping the message open.

Error: Didnt expct u 2 txt so soon

She frowned, she already didn't like the way he texted but pushed the thought of scolding him away. It wasn't her place. Frisk: I thought it would be best to set up a time to meet up tomorrow.

Error snickered at her reply.  "I'm pretty sure I told her same time tomorrow.." He typed away on the screen and hit send. He was already getting bored again. He had a nice nap, but it was always short lived. He waved his hand and blue strings lowered a Sans doll down to him. Then a Frisk doll. He would need to edit the Frisk doll to look like her now. This one was just her as a child.

He glared at the Sans plush and squeezed it in his hand.

Frisk face palmed, and her cheeks blushed a bright pink. He did tell her what time, man how could she be so dumb, she just wanted to strike up a conversation but now she bombed that big time!

Frisk: Right, just testing you! You passed!

Frisk hit send, and quickly regretted how she was digging her self into a deeper hole. She wasn't sure how Error would react.. she felt her cheeks burn at her embarrassment and hoped this wouldn't be brought up tomorrow.

Error read the message and ran his hand down his skull. 'She couldn't be serious?' He rolled his eye lights before replying to her.

Error: Im not a fan of pzzls.

Frisk felt her heart drop, did she make him mad? She chewed on the bottom of her lip and tried to think of something lighter. She smiled suddenly, and quickly replied to him. She pulled the covers to the side and slid in between them. She knew Flowey would be in later, he usually liked to keep Toriel company before going to bed.

Error blinked at her reply. She was asking him what he liked. Why did she care? He huffed and sat up in the hammock. "Guess I could indulge her.. a little bit. heh Heh heh."

Error: crocheting..and sewing

Frisk stared wide at his reply. She didn't think he'd be so honest! She wondered what he liked to make, her thoughts trailed off to him holding a sewing needled and patching up a pair pf pants, or maybe crocheting a blanket. She smiled to herself as she felt her eye lids get heavy.

She wondered how tomorrow would play out, and soon she drifted off to sleep before she could send a reply to him..

Error set his phone back down on his lap, he looked up, and sighed. He really needed some more color in this place..

[rtracy13]

4 Laps Later...Graduation from the 21st grade

Not sure if this happens to anyone else, but save for a handful of races I tend to get to the finish line of the mile/1500 and wish I had maybe 50 more meters because my legs have finally turned over and I feel like I could have gotten that one more person. Graduating medical school feels a little bit like that - hey wait, where did all the time/track go?!

So here we are. Guess I should start by filling a few things in since my post about retiring/match day coming up/attempting to train for the half. 1. I matched in emergency medicine at SIU! 2. As for the no track thing, I will have to find a track at some point (and maybe a buddy) before 2018 is over because I need to run one more mile…. I have an irrational need to say I broke 5 minutes in the mile at least once a year for 10 straight years. 3. and more importantly however, I did run the Indy Mini Marathon (!) and then graduated from medical school the next day. Without falling while walking across the stage in heels no less! I definitely don’t necessarily recommend racing a half and graduating in the same weekend. I may or may not have put my family through the ringer getting them all up at 5am (which to them was 4am) with me to get downtown for the race and then basically having us all going non-stop the rest of the weekend with graduation activities.

Welcome to how my life has run the last 4 years, its fun isn’t it?

Anyway, I’ll start with the Mini. Training was about as rocky as expected, my mileage wasn’t as consistent as I hoped it would be (shocker at this point I know), but I did spend a month up over 50 miles at least. The week of the match was a pretty big setback unfortunately after an awesome and confidence inspiring 10-mile race. I barely hit my mileage and I got zero workouts in because I spent most of the week slightly paralyzed by the anticipation of finding out where I would be a resident. In retrospect this is really silly considering I knew Monday that I would be going somewhere, which is really the scarier email. The one someone brilliantly decided to title “Did you Match?” I don’t know ACGME did I?! Seriously thought, who decided that would be a good header… Anyway, got back into the groove mostly in April, but it was a little tougher being in the ICU from 7a-5p everyday instead of the shifts of the peds ED so things got moved around a lot. Somehow it is infinitely more exhausting to be sitting around reading all day than running around the ED sometimes I swear. I got to do my last big workout with Anna though as our big races were the same weekend and despite (per usual) having my ass handed to me it was an awesome workout that had me excited to race.

On race day I was pretty calm, maybe too calm, but the biggest hurdle for me was less the distance at this point and more the fact that Indiana decided that we skipped spring and would go right to early summer with the morning temperature already somewhere in the upper 60s/low 70s. For reference the 6-miler and 10-miler I did in preparation were a lovely 34 and 30 degrees respectively (thanks Indiana) and I think I may have only had 3 total workouts that touched actual its warm ‘break out the sports bra’ weather. Oh well. Overall though, race day was awesome. Less a mile in there was a guy in a kilt playing the ND fight song on the bagpipes and I just took that as a sign that no matter what it was going to be a great day.

           - Clearly early in the race when I was still smiley and not dying -

I went in thinking if I can make it just a little further than the 8 mile mark where things starting getting tough in the 10 miler that I was in for a banner day, so I was a little disheartened when at mile 4 I was already feeling the ‘oh crap 6-minute pace is going to suck’ feeling. Following Anna’s wisdom however I told myself to relax rather than my natural response to get mad, push down and get frustrated and found that I was still running 6:05-6:08 and got myself mostly back into a groove that I thought maybe I could recover from. Then we hit the racetrack. Awesome sure, but it is reeaaaallly different to run around it than it is to watch an Indy car go around it at 180mph… needless to say it becomes the worlds longest feeling 2.5 miles ever no matter how cool it is to be running where the race cars drive and over the historic finishing bricks. I was hurting at mile 10 after coming out of the track. (Thanks Nick for reminding me at this point I have JUST a 5k to go. That is not what a miler likes to hear for encouragement.) There were a couple sad sacking 6:18ish miles at this point before I convinced myself push down and finish it up, I think my last mile was back down around 6:08. Unfortunately not quite fast enough as I barely missed breaking 80 minutes finishing 7th in 1:20:54. But hey Meb was the one who helped me up from the wobbly leg walk after the finish line so really how upset could you get at that point anyway?

So my big reach goal was break 75 if the best day ever happened, my real A goal was break 78 (average just under 6min pace), B goal was break 80, and my C goal was finish, don’t stop, don’t cry, avoid pooping pants. So I at least hit C. Maybe some of it was the delirium of I can’t believe I managed to keep myself going, but I honestly had so much fun despite not really hitting my goals save for finish. I had come so far (like 7+min PR if you want to get technical) from my lets jump in a half for funzies in November that had me absolutely dying just trying to run more than 10 miles for a long run again. (My previous last real 10+ mile long run before that was maybe May or June so I had no business jumping to 13 from like 7 or 8 on a whim.) Regardless, the best part is I finished and I definitely want to keep working to do another one! Kind of want to work on that 5k too just to feel like I’m really moving fast again ;)

   - See Mom, I didn’t deliriously make it up! I was with Meb at the finish line! -

Moving on to the medicine side I should back up to Match Day. Back in March I opened up a big envelope with “Rebecca Tracy has matched Emergency Medicine at SIU School of Medicine in Springfield, IL” inside and I was over the moon. My closest Classmates and I all matched within our top ranked programs: Family Medicine at Virginia, OBGYN at Good Samaritan in Cincinnati, Internal Medicine at Henry Ford in Detroit, Derm at Largo Medical Center outside Tampa and myself in EM at SIU. We’re going to be doctors! (Cue flood of intoxicated 20 and 30 something’s on downtown Indy.) My family came down for the weekend to have dinner and celebrate with me and everyone was excited that I would be moving just a little bit closer to home. And after 9 years in Indiana finally coming home to Illinois.  

Fast-forward a month and a half and its graduation weekend. I think I speak for most of my class when I say graduation was fun, you got to turn to your right and left, shake hands and very officially exchange ‘Doctor’, ‘Doctor’ with your classmates with ridiculous grins of disbelief that we finally made it, but it was mostly surreal and hit us all later at different times and for different reasons. It hit me finally not the first time I saw ‘Rebecca Tracy DO’ on something but when I was listening to a podcast about medical history any they were discussing the evolution of medical education. When discussing the current system they started all the way back with the classes you take in undergrad, taking the MCAT, preparing for Step 1, and that’s when it hit me. Oh my god I actually did all of these things! I am on the other side. I am a doctor.

And so begins the process of adjusting to the reality of being a resident physician and the transition into actually responsible for decisions that affect people’s lives and health. Not just learning how to do it and suggesting things, but actually the responsibility of doing it. So my mantra for the next little while when faced with problems or scary situations is, ‘They picked me for this program because they believe that I will be good at this, so I will take a deep breath and go because I’ve got this”. (Sorry if this is not confidence inspiring to anyone needing to visit an emergency room in July. We all have to deal with our imposter syndrome at some point; I promise we are well overseen by confident and more importantly highly competent people!)

  -Thanks Dr. Walsh for putting up with me & being my hooder at graduation-

So here I am at the beginning of June, already tired of vacation and ready to have things to do other than unpack boxes (going to be regretting these words in a month and a half I’m sure). I took a phenomenal graduation trip out to Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks to start my off on my life goal of hiking in all the national parks. Watched my cousin get married to the most wonderful guy and welcome him to the family true Tracys awkward dancing to Mama Mia style. Sucked it up through some food poisoning to celebrate one of my classmate/best friend’s wedding to her also amazing husband and now working on moving myself into life in Springfield!

Just enjoying the cool down before the next exciting race begins.

                                   - Cheers Doctors! We made it! -