#i had this idea from my last post when commenting about red and therapy

[aspen-charminghearts]

GlassHeart vs. Phone Calls:

[Red’s phone rings, caller id, showing Bridget]

Red, panicked, looking at Chloe expectantly:

Chloe: Red-

Red: Please Chloe [Gives Chloe her pleading look]

Chloe: Fine! [Picks up the Phone]

Bridget: Red! Honey-

Chloe: Hi your majesty this is Chloe.

Bridget: Can I talk to Red please?

Chloe: You see Red can’t come to the phone right now, she’s.. [Looks at Red for a excuse]

[Red points at window trying to communicate “I’m outside”]

Chloe: She’s.. Jumping out the window?

Red: [Face Palms]

[alexwilltellyouthings]

Entirely self indulgent rating post about the top 10 TV shows that made me fucking insane for some reason

10. Sense8

God, this was so good. Such a blessing. I saw part of the cast during a Pride Parade and it's one of my favorite memories. I felt every possible emotion with this show, I love it.

9. The Last of Us

This is kind of a cheat, because the obsession comes from the games, but it is what it is. It's one of the few games that had a big impact on me and I closely relate it to my relationship with my dad. Can't wait to cry my heart out at season 2.

8. Good Omens

It's a given, isn't it? That stupid angel with his stupid demon and their stupid God. GRRRAAWW. A lot of thoughts and feelings came from the fandom, I have to point out. It's been very nice.

7. The Umbrella Academy

I have the first issue of the comics autographed by Gerard Way!! I mean, yes, it's because I'm a MCR fan, but it became even more precious after I got into the show. I'm rewatching right now, preparing for the last season. I'll be a mess when I say goodbye to them. Can't even really think about it too hard or I'll cry right now.

Continues under the cut

6. Our Flag Means Death

LISTEN THIS CHANGED EVERYTHING TO ME. What do you mean we can have a show THIS queer? It's all I want now. I ate it up. I smiled so much. I wanted this so badly and had no idea.

5. Interview with the Vampire

Feels like it should be top 3 honestly but I'll get there. This is also a cheat, I've been reading the Vampire Chronicles since I was like 15. Growing up with Anne Rice probably messed me up but hey at least I have great taste. And seeing them on screen? The way they made it BETTER? And Lestat?? Who has been haunting me for 15 years on and off??? And the second season and their reunion and and and?????????? I'm STILL insane about them and will be forever, I'm afraid.

4. Doctor Who

Listen. Listen. Okay. Yeah. What can I say? If you get into it, you're doomed. And I have been doomed for 10 years at least. I stopped watching for a while and got back last year, and it hit me all over again. I love this dumbass genius alien in a way that's calm, even. Just a permanent part of who I am now.

3. The Untamed

The year was 2022, it had been a while since I had a proper fixation and I didn't think it would happen with this danmei live-action, but then came Wei Wuxian. Guys, if I tell you I fell in love. Couldn't stop thinking about him. Everyday I was plagued by his smile and red ribbon and tragic backstory, yadayadayada. I really like other characters too, and their stories, but WWX did something to me that I still don't quite understand.

2. Queer as Folk (US)

This was a looong time ago and it didn't really persist over time like the others, but it was my first actual obsession. I was clinically insane over these gays. I had no one to talk to about them, so for every episode I wrote several pages of notes to comment to my (only) friend at school the next day, the poor thing. It was pretty much all I talked about because I spent EVERY MINUTE we had to talk going over the notes and explaining the episode. Like, between classes, during breaks, everything. Months of that. She held on firmly because she was a good friend, but I'm aware it must've been terrible. Like I said, insane.

1. Dead Boy Detectives

Maybe I'm putting this up here because it's my current hyperfixation? Maybe. But I don't think I have felt something hit as strongly as this since QaF over there. This time I can participate in fandom so I don't need to write every thought I have because it's all a big talk anyway, but I'm still pretty much having those thoughts all the time for *checks notes* nearly three months. I'm writing more than I have in years. I'm back at Tumblr after I don't know how long. I'm staring at GIFs over and over like I have the fucking time for that. I'm distracted at work daily. I talk about it in therapy. I have the main cast's notifications on. I'm getting involved in fandom discourse sometimes even knowing I shouldn't. It's a nightmare. I love it. I love them.

If you read all of this, congrats! Now you know how my mind works, kinda!! I'm open to talk about any and all of these shows. It's amazing how they mess us up. It's also scary, but anyway.

[ceasarslegion]

Uncle story?

Oh boy!

So the first thing i need to say about my uncle is that he is an idiot. Terminally stupid and also the most self-righteous bastard I've ever met. Truly deadly combo.

I must also start by clarifying that this is not the same openly gay uncle who is a Scottish lord and ran for mayor of a small Saskatchewan town because he was bored and won and then showed up to all the official things in a top hat. That is technically my great uncle and on my dad's side. We must not smear that uncle's name due to confusing him with my mom's brother who is too stupid to realize how stupid he is and thinks the fact that no one can understand what the fuck he's ever talking about is a sign of intelligence.

So my uncle is openly gay. And he lives in the UK as a dual dutch-canadian citizen. He is engaged to an Israeli man (do not discourse on this post. I mention his nationality to highlight something else I will mention. Just some guy who doesn't even live there is not responsible for a certain conflict going on). He also grew up in Dubai but family went back to Canada for a spell around when he entered high school. He works as a travel agent last time I checked, but he can never hold down a job for more than a few months without getting fired so who knows at this point.

You're with me, yes? Gay, immigrant, fiance from another country, grew up in the gulf?

This motherfucker. Said he would vote for Trump if he were american and that brexit was a good idea. And is anti-immigration. And thinks feminism is cancer. And once tried to convince my mom that men across the UK were being arrested for "stare-rape" which is apparently when you just look at a woman in public and she can then claim you raped her with your eyes. And thinks pride is pedophilic. And thinks bisexuality is just people who want to be special and can't pick a side. And the only person he's still on speaking terms with in my immediate family is my grandma who is just as toxic as he is stupid.

My dad once said, word for word, while a few drags into a blunt: "if I ever see [uncle] again, I'm going to beat the shit out of him for what he said about my son." I don't know what exactly happened to get him kicked out of my parents apartment when they cut ties with him during a visit, but I know it was a screaming match over something to do with me. I had long moved out at that point so I wasn't there to see it. And this is coming from the mouth of the same guy from my red bull and snickers post, my dad is not a violent or scary guy and I've never seen him lay a hand on anybody.

My uncle and I used to be really close when I was a kid because he's a very artistic person, and I was too. We were the two creatives in the family. Also as a queer kid who didn't know he was trans yet I was naturally drawn to queer masculine influences. This fell apart pretty quickly when I started like, growing into my own person instead of a carbon copy of the people around me. He was steadily becoming dumber and dumber to me but it really came to a head in 2016

So trump wins the US election. I am still living in Abu Dhabi at this point and I had just graduated high school in June of that year. My boss is American. She is devastated and says she's going home early that day because she needs a few hours to process what's gonna happen now. At my desk I make a Facebook post saying that if any of the americans I knew refused to vote over your own self-righteous bs that I don't want to talk to you again because you clearly cared more about having the moral high ground than sucking it up for the people who trump will go on to hurt. This post is a big hit among my Arab majority peers.

This goes on without incident. 3 months later my uncle comments a big essay on it sucking trumps dick and saying some pseudo-qanon shit about Hillary Clinton. I respond citing actual sources and hit him where it hurts: Mike pence's then-plan to divert AIDS research funding into conversion therapy.

I go back to work (I am at work when the response happens too). About an hour later my phone buzzes on my desk. I open it to an essay twice the size in my messenger DMs from him crytyping about how I've changed and turned into such a whiny SJW, how I'm no longer the same person i was when I was 11 (damn I hope so), how I'm such a bully now (YOU CAME ONTO *MY* POST 3 MONTHS LATER???), and uh, no word of a lie, that he can't be racist because he dated a black man in high school. I. I never mentioned race in the post or my response to him. He brought that up on his own.

I ended up calling him out on it by replying to his public comment with "hey if you're gonna cry about how you're not racist in my inbox for pages and pages on end like that because someone said you were being stupid at least do it in the same place you were flaunting your idiocy, damn."

We didn't talk for a good couple years after that. And then something came up and we talked again for a bit, I don't remember exactly what anymore but we had to interact in person for it. I was willing to be civil, he started by doing the equivalent of crossing his arms and pouting until I said sorry for how mean I was to such a sensitive little muffin on the internet. Very mature guy I'm related to here isn't he. Insane how he's the uncle and I'm the nephew huh

This lasted for a good 2 weeks. Because the pokemon sun and moon leaks happened and I showed him the character models for red and blue and joked that they looked like a newlywed couple on their honeymoon in Hawaii. Pokemon was one of the few things we could still agree on at this point, so i was trying to bridge a gap with a family member with it. Thinking that he would appreciate the joke as a gay man.

He exploded at me. Like full on screaming exploded at me over that. He yelled about how homophobic I was, that i had no right to call myself queer because I hadn't been sexually assaulted or threatened to be murdered (HE HASNT EITHER??? LIKE HE VERY MUCH HASNT 😭😭😭 also you are making a LOT of assumptions about the life of someone you made NO effort to be a part of despite him giving you every olive branch you could possibly grab), that it was insulting to every gay person in the world to say that the best representation we deserved was pokemon (THATS NOT WHAT I SAID??? Also what's wrong with a gay pokemon character 😭 how is that insulting 😭😭) and that I had no idea what it was like to suffer for my identity. He said this while I was living in a place where queer people got executed for being moral degenerates btw.

Something in me snapped that day and I responded with "oh tell me more about how hard your life was in your dubai villa with an in-ground pool and a hired nanny. I'll truly never suffer as much as you have. Tell me more about how you threw the first brick at stonewall."

My parents had to stop themselves from laughing at that response and steered me out before my uncle could explode even more, and I never talked to him again.

[mcrdvcks]

Down Bad - Chapter 24

Chapter Summary: Amina's body set's itself back on track, which gives Amellia the chance to give Amina surgery. While helping Omega for a school project, Amina and Hunter come across a rare flower.

Word Count: 13.1k+

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Jedi Original Character

Notes: hi again!!

i totally forgot when i was going to post this yesterday that it had a looong smut scene (all hail the mighty sex pollen trope!), so i wanted to review and edit it before posting it. please be kind, because it's my first time doing a sex pollen scene

so, if anyone has any requests they'd like to see for hunter, amina, or anyone else in the story, don't be afraid to comment! i'd love to hear y'all's ideas!

TW: periods, cramping, mention of blood, surgery, sex pollen, overstimulation, unprotected piv, mulitple orgasms

(also can we talk about this gif!?)

Series Masterlist - Chapter 23 → Chapter 25

AO3 Link For Chapter

Amina groaned, feeling the stabbing, pulsating pain in her lower body. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this uncomfortable bed on the starship, because getting up meant she’d have to deal with a whole other world of problems.

She curled up in bed, bringing her knees to her chest. A few moments later, her comm started dinging, so using the Force she brought it to her.

Anakin popped up in the hologram, “hey, Lucky. Just thought I would check in.”

“Hey.” Amina rasped.

She watched as Anakin furrowed his brows before speaking again, “it’s back? The Red Wave?”

Amina let out a small chuckle before wincing in pain, “it’s supposed to happen every month, you know. But I get lucky enough for it to happen so randomly it could happen every 4 months, or every 2 weeks.”

He kept his expression before looking around whatever room he was in, “I could come and help you. I’m sure Obi-Wan and our battalions can handle it.”

“Ani, you can’t keep leaving whatever mission you are doing just to help me.”

His eyes flashed with frustration before he masked it with a more controlled demeanor. “The Council isn’t going to let you have a day off. This is the best we can do. Ahsoka can come along with me.”

Amina sighed before giving in. She was in a lot of pain, and it would be a while before she would even stand up to go to the bathroom. “Okay. Fine.”

Anakin’s relief was visible, and he gave her a small smile. “We’ll be there soon. Just hang in there, Lucky.”

The hologram flickered off, and Amina let out a long breath. She hated feeling this way, so helpless and dependent on others. But Anakin always seemed to know when she needed him, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

---

Amina walked into the kitchen pouring herself a cup of caf as she leaned against the counter. Her stomach was hurting, and she felt like bantha fodder.

Hunter was out at work helping Shep, and Omega was at school. Amina grabbed three fruit pastries and sat on the couch.

Amina took a bite of one of the pastries, the sweet tang of fruit filling her mouth as she chewed. She glanced around the room, the familiar sights and sounds of their home offering a small measure of comfort in the midst of her physical turmoil.

After she finished eating the pastries and her caf, she quickly went to the bathroom coming across a harrowing discovery. Blood.

At first, she thought she was dying, but that thought lasted only a half a second. She had been on hormone therapy for 3 months now, been through the mood swings, lost appetite, and nausea.

But now, she entered her least favorite part of womanhood once again after over 2 years. She put on an absorption pad and washed her hands.

As she sank onto the couch, Amina couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. She picked up one of the datapads lying on the coffee table, trying to distract herself from her racing thoughts.

But no matter how hard she tried to focus on the datapad, her mind kept wandering back to the pool of blood in the bathroom. She felt a knot forming in her stomach as she thought about what it could mean for her and Hunter's dreams of starting a family.

She wanted a baby, but a small part of her couldn’t help but feel scared for how Hunter would react. Would he act like the Council and be angry at her pain? Or would he be more like Anakin and actually care about her pain?

Amina knew it would be the latter, but a small part of her wouldn’t let her believe it.

Just then, the front door opened, and Hunter stepped inside with Omega, his expression tired but warm as he caught sight of Amina on the couch. "Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, crossing the room to wrap her in a gentle hug. "How was your day?"

“I’m gonna kill myself.” She mumbled into the pillow.

Amina's words hung heavy in the air, her voice muffled by the pillow pressed against her face. Hunter's heart clenched at the sight of his wife in distress, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow as he knelt down beside her.

"What's wrong, Amina?" Hunter's voice was soft, filled with worry as he reached out to gently brush her hair away from her face.

“The Red Wave.” She said, lifting her head from the pillow, “that’s what Anakin called it at least.”

Omega’s eyes widened in understanding as she nodded while Hunter looked from Amina to Omega.

Hunter's brow furrowed in concern as he took in the scene before him. He could see the distress etched on Amina's face, the lines of worry deepening with each passing moment. Without hesitation, he moved closer to her, kneeling down beside the couch to offer his support.

"What's the Red Wave?" Hunter asked, his voice gentle yet filled with urgency. He reached out to gently place a comforting hand on Amina's shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring.

Omega sighed, “maybe Amellia needs to give you a lesson too.” She told Hunter.

"Amina," Hunter began, his voice gentle yet filled with urgency, "what's going on? What's the Red Wave?"

Amina took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she struggled to find the right words to explain. She glanced at Omega, silently pleading for her support as she prepared to share something deeply personal with Hunter.

"The Red Wave," Amina started, her voice soft yet tinged with sadness, "it's what Anakin used to call it. It's... it's my period."

Hunter's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to process Amina's words. "Your period?" he repeated. “But… that’s good, isn’t it? The hormone treatment is working.”

Amina wanted to slap him, “no, I hate my period.”

Omega hummed in agreement, “I can get you a heating pad and some muja fruit.”

“No, not muja fruit. Haroun bread.” Amina said.

As Amina reclined on the couch, her discomfort palpable, Hunter's concern deepened. He couldn't fathom why his wife, whom he loved dearly, would despise something that indicated her health was improving. But he also knew better than to push her too hard. Instead, he opted for a more supportive approach.

"Alright, no muja fruit," Hunter conceded, his voice soft and understanding. "Haroun bread it is. Omega, could you fetch some for Amina?"

Omega nodded eagerly, her youthful energy propelling her off the couch and into the kitchen in a flash. She returned moments later with a warm loaf of Haroun bread, some pain killers, and a glass of water.

"Here you go, Amina," Omega said, offering her the bread with a gentle smile. "I hope this helps."

“Thank you, honey.” Amina replied, eating a piece of the bread before taking the painkillers.

As Amina sat on the couch, nibbling on a piece of Haroun bread and taking the painkillers Omega had brought her, Hunter couldn't shake the feeling of concern gnawing at him. He watched his wife closely, his heart heavy with worry as he saw the discomfort etched on her face.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?" Hunter asked, his voice soft with concern as he reached out to gently squeeze Amina's hand.

Amina managed a weak smile, her eyes flickering with gratitude as she met Hunter's gaze. "A little," she admitted, her voice soft and tired.

“Are you in a lot of pain? Is that normal?” he asked worriedly.

“Yeah.” Amina stated.

Hunter thought she was going to continue but she didn’t. “Is there something else?”

Amina turned her head away from him, “it’s stupid.” She murmured.

"It's not stupid, Amina," Hunter said softly, his voice filled with reassurance as he reached out to gently cup her cheek, urging her to look at him. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here for you, always."

Amina's heart ached at the warmth and sincerity in Hunter's voice, the love and concern evident in his eyes. She knew she could trust him with anything, yet the fear of burdening him with her troubles still lingered in the back of her mind.

"It's just..." Amina began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words to convey her thoughts. "I don’t like having my period because it reminds me of before the war and during it.” She looked over at him as he nodded at her to continue.

“I always had painful periods, and before the war it was fine. Me and my Master would just stay on Coruscant and meditate. But when the war started it was hard for me during that time of the month. I was in pain and Anakin would come up with excuses on my he needed me to work with him on missions just so I could rest for a day instead of being yelled at by the Council.”

Amina looked down, “I guess… a part of me thought you would be mad at me too.” She whispered.

As Amina whispered her fears to Hunter, his heart ached with empathy. He reached out, gently brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek, his touch tender and reassuring.

"Amina, sweetheart," Hunter began, his voice soft and comforting. "I could never be mad at you for something like this. It’s a normal part of your life.”

Amina's eyes flickered with relief at Hunter's words, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with gratitude for his unwavering support.

"I know it's silly," Amina admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I just... I didn't want you to think less of me because of it."

Hunter's heart clenched at the vulnerability in Amina's voice, the raw honesty of her words piercing through his defenses. He reached out, gently brushing away a stray tear that glistened in the corner of her eye.

"Amina, look at me," Hunter urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he locked eyes with her. "I could never think less of you, not in a million lifetimes. You are the strongest person I know, and I admire you more than words can express."

Amina's breath caught in her throat at Hunter's words, the warmth of his love washing over her like a soothing balm. She felt a sense of peace settle over her, the weight of her worries lifting ever so slightly in the presence of his unwavering support.

"Thank you, Hunter," Amina murmured, her voice choked with emotion as she reached out to clasp his hand in hers. "Thank you for always being there for me, for loving me despite my flaws."

Hunter's heart swelled with love as he squeezed Amina's hand gently, his eyes shining with adoration as he gazed at her.

"I will always be here for you, Amina," Hunter vowed, his voice filled with conviction. "No matter what challenges we face, no matter how dark the road ahead may seem, I will stand by your side, now and forever."

Amina felt her heart flutter at Hunter's words, the depth of his love washing over her like a tidal wave. She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

"I love you, Hunter," Amina whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "More than words can say."

Hunter's heart swelled with love as he gazed into Amina's eyes, his own filled with a depth of emotion that words could never fully express.

"I love you too, Amina," Hunter replied, his voice a soft murmur that resonated with the echoes of their shared love.

---

After 3 days of Amina’s period, and only being able to curl up on the couch or the bed, Hunter told her they were going to see Amellia about it.

“Well, it’s a good thing that you have your period, since it means the hormone therapy worked, but there are a lot of cases where having scar tissue can make your period more painful than normal. But the good news is, now we can look at getting a Hysteroscopic surgery to remove the scar tissue," Amellia explained, her tone hopeful yet cautious. "It's a minimally invasive procedure that can help alleviate your symptoms and improve your chances of conceiving."

Amina's breath caught in her throat at the mention of surgery, her mind whirling with a mix of fear and hope. She glanced at Hunter, her eyes searching his for reassurance as she tried to process the news.

“When could we do it?” Amina asked.

“Well, I don’t have all the things I need here, so I’d need to order them off world. And I would prefer to perform the surgery when you are not on your period since it provides better visibility. Give me at least a week, I should have the materials and your cycle should be over by then.”

Amina sat on the chair, her mind buzzing with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation as she absorbed Amellia's words. The prospect of surgery was daunting, but if it meant finally finding relief from the debilitating pain of her periods and increasing her chances of starting a family with Hunter, it was a risk she was willing to take.

"Okay," Amina replied, her voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside her. "Let's do it."

Hunter squeezed Amina's hand in silent support, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. He knew how much this surgery meant to Amina, and he would do anything to ease her pain and help her achieve her dreams of motherhood.

Amellia nodded, a small smile of encouragement gracing her lips. "Alright then. I'll start gathering the necessary materials and prepare for the surgery. We'll schedule it for next week, once your cycle has ended."

Amina let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, a sense of relief washing over her at the thought of finally taking action to address her condition. She glanced at Hunter, her heart swelling with gratitude for his unwavering support.

"Thank you, Amellia," Amina said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "For everything."

Amellia waved off Amina's gratitude with a dismissive gesture, her focus already shifting to the task ahead. "Don't mention it," she replied, her tone brisk yet kind. "I'll see you both next week for the surgery."

Amellia stepped out of the room before poking her head back in, “actually, I’ll see you for dinner, right? The whole group? I’m going to make smoked kaadu ribs.”

Amina nodded with a smile. "Sounds great, Amellia," she replied, her voice warm with gratitude.

As Amellia left, Amina turned to Hunter, her heart fluttering with excitement at the prospect of spending time with their friends. "What do you think? Smoked kaadu ribs sound delicious, don't they?" she asked, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Hunter chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he nodded in agreement. "They do indeed. I can't wait to taste them," he replied, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

---

They started to set the table while Hunter made a Berbersian crab salad. Amina handed Omega 6 cups to put on the table as she put down the plates.

“What’s Amellia bringing?” Omega asked Amina.

“She’s bringing smoked kaadu ribs. It’s kaadu meat with a sauce, cabbage slaw, and a berry muffin. It originated from Naboo.” Amina answered.

Omega grinned eagerly as she placed the last cup on the table, her youthful energy palpable in the air. "I can't wait to try those smoked kaadu ribs," she exclaimed, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Amina chuckled softly, "I'm sure they'll be amazing," she replied, her voice warm with reassurance. "Amellia is an excellent cook."

As they finished setting the table, the front door swung open, and Amellia stepped inside, a large tray of smoked kaadu ribs in hand. Her eyes lit up with a warm smile as she caught sight of Amina and Omega in the kitchen.

"Hey, everyone!" Amellia greeted, her voice bright with cheer as she made her way into the kitchen. "I brought the smoked kaadu ribs. They're all ready to go."

Amina smiled warmly at Amellia, her heart lifting at the sight of their friend. "Thanks, Amellia," she said, gratitude shining in her eyes. "They smell delicious."

Amellia beamed at the compliment, setting the tray of ribs down on the table with care. "I hope you all enjoy them," she replied, her tone sincere. She looked around the house, “where’s Crosshair and Wrecker?”

“I’ll go get them!” Omega said, as she walked out the front door.

Amina nudged Amellia with her shoulder, “have you talked to him again?”

Amellia blushed, “no. I’m not usually a nervous person but…”

“Maybe today will give you the little push you need to talk to Crosshair again.” Amina said.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Amellia replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty. She glanced at Amina, her gaze searching for reassurance as she tried to gather her courage. "I'll talk to him tonight."

Amina smiled warmly at Amellia, her eyes shining with encouragement. "You've got this," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "And if you need backup, just let me know."

---

Amina finished her daily lesson with the children of the island as she walked over to Amellia who was waiting at the edge of the grassy field. “So?” She asked.

Amellia groaned, “I couldn’t do it. I have asked out so many guys, and out of the 6 guys I’ve dated, I was always the one who cut it off. But I can’t ask out one guy? Old age is getting to me.”

Amina chuckled, "you're 28, Ames. You've still got plenty of time."

Amellia sighed, her shoulders slumping with defeat. "I know, I know," she replied, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "But it's just... I don't know why I can't seem to do it."

Amina reached out and gently squeezed her friend's shoulder. "It's okay, Ames. Maybe you just haven't found the right moment yet."

Amellia nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, maybe you're right," she said, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. "Thanks, Amina."

Amina smiled warmly at her friend. "Anytime, Ames. You know I'm always here for you."

They walked over to their houses, Amellia’s right next to Amina and Hunter’s as Amellia glanced over at Amina, “you know- now, this may be weird of me to ask, but… is there any way you could ask Crosshair if he…”

“Likes you?”

“Or anyone.” Amellia said, raising her hands in a placating manner.

Amina hummed, “I don’t know if he would tell me that- ”

“Well, what about Hunter? He’s his brother. Or even Omega, Crosshair seems to do whatever Omega wants.”

“Are you talking about Crosshair?”

Amina and Amellia turned towards the voice, which was Omega standing behind them.

“Yeah- no, I mean no.” Amellia quickly said.

“He looks at you.” Omega spoke softly. “It kind of reminds me of how Hunter and Amina looked at each other before they got together.”

Amina narrowed her eyes at Omega, a hint of amusement flickering in her gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," she repeated, her tone laced with playful defiance.

Omega raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of her lips. "Sure, Amina," she said, her voice teasing. "Keep telling yourself that." She walked in between the two women as she turned her head upwards towards Amellia, “when we go on our morning walks, sometimes he looks up the mountain in the direction of your house.”

Amellia's cheeks flushed a light pink. "Really?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Omega nodded enthusiastically. "Yup! I've noticed it a few times. He tries to be subtle, but I'm pretty good at noticing things."

Amina chuckled softly, shaking her head at Omega’s perceptiveness. "Well, there you have it, Amellia. Straight from Omega’s observant eyes."

Amellia bit her lip, a mixture of hope and nervousness swirling within her. "Maybe...maybe I should talk to him," she said, almost as if trying to convince herself.

Amina placed a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder. "You should. You never know until you try."

Omega nodded in agreement, her youthful enthusiasm infectious. "Exactly! And if you need any help, you know where to find us."

Amellia smiled, feeling a bit more confident with her friends' support. "Thanks, you two. I’ll give it a shot."

They continued towards their houses, almost to Hunter and Amina’s house when they saw Hunter and Crosshair walking towards the house in front of them.

Omega gently pushed Amellia forward as Hunter ruffled Omega’s hair, “how was school?”

“It was good! I was going to ask Amellia to help me with some math homework.” Omega looked up at Amellia expectantly, trying to get her to go along with her story.

“Y- actually I have s- some papers that need signing.” Amellia said quickly, “good night.” She patted Amina’s arm before turning around and walking back to her house.

Hunter raised an eyebrow as he watched Amellia retreat back to her house, then turned his gaze to Amina, clearly seeking answers. Amina sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"It's complicated," she said finally, giving him a small smile.

“Complicated?” Crosshair asked, his toothpick in his hand.

Amina hummed, “yep, complicated.” She opened the door and looked back at Omega, “want some juice?”

Omega nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

Hunter chuckled, shaking his head as he followed Amina inside. Crosshair lingered for a moment, his gaze drifting in the direction of Amellia's house before he stepped in behind them.

As they settled inside, Amina poured juice for Omega and herself. She turned to Hunter with a warm smile. “Want some juice too?”

Hunter nodded, giving her a grateful smile. “Sure, thanks.”

As Hunter settled into his seat at the kitchen table, Amina joined him, placing a glass of juice in front of him with a gentle smile as Omega sat between them.

"So, what's on the agenda for tonight?" Hunter asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

Amina glanced at him, her expression softening with affection. "I was thinking we could watch a holo-movie," she suggested, her voice warm with anticipation. "We haven't had a movie night in a while."

Hunter nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That sounds good," he replied, reaching for his glass of juice. "Any preferences?"

Amina shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. "Surprise me," she said, a hint of mischief dancing in her tone. "As long as it's not one of those sappy romance dramas."

Hunter chuckled, shaking his head. "Noted," he said, amusement coloring his voice. "I'll find something action-packed for us."

Omega perked up at the mention of a movie night, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Can I pick the snacks?" she asked, her voice eager.

Amina and Hunter exchanged a knowing glance, both of them smiling at Omega's enthusiasm. "Of course, kiddo," Amina replied, her voice warm with affection. "Just try not to eat all the popcorn before the movie starts."

Omega grinned, her eyes shining with mischief. "No promises," she said, her tone teasing as she reached for her glass of juice.

Eventually, the time came for them to head to the living room and choose a movie. Omega eagerly led the way, her excitement palpable as she perused their collection of holo-movies, carefully selecting the perfect one for their movie night.

Once they were all settled on the couch, popcorn in hand and movie ready to play, Amina couldn't help but steal a glance at Hunter. Despite the challenges they had faced in recent months, she felt a deep sense of gratitude for the man sitting beside her, his presence a source of strength and comfort in her life.

Hunter caught her gaze and offered her a warm smile, his eyes soft with affection. In that moment, surrounded by the ones she loved most, Amina felt a sense of peace wash over her, the worries of the outside world fading into the background as they lost themselves in the holo-movie playing on the screen.

As the credits rolled and the movie came to an end, Amina stretched her arms above her head, feeling a sense of contentment settle over her. "That was fun," she said, her voice filled with satisfaction.

Hunter nodded in agreement, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, it was," he replied, his tone warm with affection. "Thanks for picking such a great movie, Omega."

Omega beamed at the praise, her eyes shining with happiness. "You're welcome!" she exclaimed, her excitement infectious as she glanced between Amina and Hunter. "Can we do this again tomorrow night?"

Amina chuckled softly, ruffling Omega's hair affectionately. "We'll see," she replied, her voice gentle. "But for now, I think it's time for bed."

Omega's expression fell slightly at the mention of bedtime, but she nodded in resignation. "Okay," she said, her voice tinged with disappointment. "Goodnight, Amina. Goodnight, Hunter."

"Goodnight, Omega," Amina replied, her voice warm with affection. "Sleep well."

---

One of the nurses at the medical center gave Amina anesthetic through her iv as Amellia walked in. “Alright, I’m going to let that settle into your system before performing the hysteroscopic surgery to remove your scar tissue.” Amellia said, looking up from her datapad.

Amellia smiled reassuringly at Amina, her expression gentle and comforting. "You're doing great, Amina," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "Just try to relax and let the medication do its job."

Amina nodded, her eyelids growing heavy as she fought against the urge to succumb to sleep. "I trust you, Amellia," she murmured, her words slurred slightly by the effects of the anesthesia.

Amellia's smile widened at Amina's words, a sense of pride swelling within her chest. "Thank you, Amina," she replied, her voice filled with gratitude. "I won't let you down."

With that, Amellia turned her attention back to her datapad, her focus shifting to the task at hand as she prepared for the hysteroscopic surgery. She double-checked her equipment and reviewed Amina's medical history, ensuring that everything was in order before proceeding.

Meanwhile, Hunter sat by Amina's side, his hand clasped firmly in hers as he watched over her with concern. Despite his outward calm, his mind was racing with worry for his wife, the thought of her undergoing surgery filling him with apprehension.

"You'll be okay, Amina," Hunter murmured, his voice low and reassuring. "I'm right here with you."

Amina squeezed his hand gently, her gaze meeting his with a look of gratitude and love. "I know, Hunter," she replied, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "I trust you."

Hunter smiled at her words, a sense of warmth spreading through his chest. He leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before settling back into his seat, his presence a source of comfort and strength for Amina.

As the minutes passed, Amina could feel the effects of the anesthesia intensifying, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. She fought against the urge to drift off to sleep, wanting to stay conscious for as long as possible before the surgery began.

Amellia glanced up from her datapad, noticing the change in Amina's demeanor. She walked over to her patient, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's time, Amina," she said gently, her voice calm and steady. "I'm going to start the procedure now."

Amina nodded, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled to keep them open. "Okay," she murmured, her words barely audible as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.

---

She blinked the fogginess away from her eyes before closing them due to the bright white lights above her.

“Amina?”

She looked to her side to see her brother, Ahsoka, and Blu standing by her bed. “Huh?”

Anakin grabbed her hand, “you scared me- all of us. Two pieces of metal to the gut?”

"To be fair, it wasn't my fault Separatists shot us down," Amina replied with a small smirk, her memories from the past flooding back as she spoke.

"You were supposed to wait for backup," Anakin chided gently.

"I was waiting for backup when we got shot down," Amina replied, her tone playful despite the seriousness of their situation. She remembered the chaos of the battlefield, the blaster fire raining down around them as they fought to survive.

Anakin squeezed her hand tightly, his expression filled with a mixture of relief and worry. "We're just glad you're alive," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

“Aw, come on Ani. You know that won’t happen. My middle name is Lucky.”

He chuckled, “only because I gave it to you.”

“Well, too late now. It’s permanent.” She flicked his nose playfully.

---

Hunter watched anxiously from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for any sign of trouble. He trusted Amellia implicitly, but the thought of anything going wrong filled him with dread.

Minutes turned into hours as the surgery progressed, each moment feeling like an eternity to Hunter as he waited for news of Amina's condition. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Amellia emerged from the operating room, her expression weary but relieved.

"It went well," Amellia said, her voice soft but tinged with exhaustion. "I was able to remove the scar tissue without any complications."

Hunter let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his anxiety. "Thank you, Amellia," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "You've done a great job."

Amellia smiled tiredly at Hunter's words, a sense of satisfaction washing over her despite her fatigue. "It was my pleasure, Hunter," she replied, her voice warm with appreciation. "I'm just glad everything went smoothly."

With that, Amellia excused herself to update the medical records and check on her other patients, leaving Hunter alone with Amina as she began to stir from her anesthesia-induced slumber.

Amina blinked groggily, her gaze unfocused as she struggled to regain her bearings. She reached out for Hunter, her hand searching for his with a sense of urgency.

Hunter took her hand in his, squeezing it gently as he leaned in closer. "I'm here, Amina," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "Everything's okay."

Amina let out a sigh of relief, her tense muscles relaxing as she felt the reassuring presence of her husband beside her. Hunter gently stroked her hand, his touch grounding her as she began to fully wake from the anesthesia.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice a comforting balm. "How are you feeling?"

Amina blinked a few times, her vision slowly clearing. "Groggy," she admitted, her voice hoarse. "But okay. How did it go?"

"It went well," Hunter replied, a smile tugging at his lips. "Amellia was able to remove the scar tissue without any complications. You're going to be just fine."

Amina managed a small smile, relief washing over her. "That's good to hear," she murmured, her eyes beginning to drift closed again.

Hunter squeezed her hand gently. "Get some rest," he said softly. "I'll be right here."

Amina nodded weakly, her exhaustion pulling her back into a light sleep. Hunter watched over her, his heart filled with a mix of relief and love.

---

The next morning, Amina woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the windows. She stretched carefully, mindful of her still-healing body, and turned to see Hunter dozing in a chair beside her bed.

"Good morning," she said softly, her voice gentle.

Hunter stirred, blinking sleep from his eyes as he sat up. "Morning," he replied, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. "How are you feeling?"

"A little sore, but better," Amina said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Hunter reached out and took her hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. "I'm glad to hear that," he said warmly. "Amellia will be in soon to check on you."

As if on cue, the door opened and Amellia stepped inside, her expression brightening when she saw Amina awake. "Good morning," she greeted, her tone cheerful. "How are you feeling today?"

"A bit sore, but better," Amina repeated, giving Amellia a smile.

"That's to be expected," Amellia replied, glancing at her datapad as she approached. "But everything looks good. You should be able to go home later today."

Amina nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of returning home. "Thank you, Amellia," she said sincerely. "For everything."

Amellia smiled warmly. "It's my job," she replied. "But I'm glad I could help."

Hunter stood and stretched, his muscles stiff from a night spent in the chair. "We'll take it easy today," he said, his tone firm. "No pushing yourself."

Amina rolled her eyes playfully. "I know, I know," she said, her voice light. "I'll take it easy."

Amellia chuckled, giving them both a knowing look. “Before I let you two get ready, I just need to go over your recovery. It’s normal to have light bleeding for up to two weeks after the procedure, as well as cramping pain for a few days. And I would advise you to not have sex for a week. If you develop a fever, you will need to come back to the medical center.”

Hunter nodded, his expression serious. “We’ll keep an eye on everything.”

Amina smiled, feeling reassured by Amellia’s thoroughness. “Thanks, Amellia. I appreciate it.”

Amellia gave them a warm smile. “You’re welcome. Now, take it easy and let me know if you need anything.”

As Amellia left the room, Hunter helped Amina get dressed, his movements gentle and careful. “You heard the doctor. We’re going to take it slow.”

Amina rolled her eyes playfully. “I know, Hunter. I’ll be good.”

Hunter chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’m just making sure. Let’s get you home.”

They made their way back to their house on Pabu, the warm sun and gentle breeze providing a comforting backdrop. Hunter kept a steady hand on Amina’s back, guiding her carefully.

Omega was waiting for them at the house, her face lighting up with relief when she saw Amina. “Amina! Are you okay?”

Amina smiled, hugging Omega gently. “I’m fine, Omega. The surgery went well.”

Omega sighed in relief. “I’m so glad. I was worried.”

Hunter ruffled Omega’s hair affectionately. “Amellia did a great job. Amina just needs to rest for a while.”

Omega nodded, her expression serious. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything she’s not supposed to.”

Amina laughed softly. “Looks like I’ve got two people looking out for me.”

Hunter and Omega shared a look, both of them determined to ensure Amina’s recovery went smoothly. They spent the rest of the day relaxing, Hunter and Omega taking care of everything while Amina rested on the couch.

---

A few days later, Amina was feeling stronger, the initial soreness from the surgery beginning to fade. She was careful to follow Amellia’s instructions, taking it easy and allowing her body to heal.

One afternoon, while Hunter was out running errands, Amina and Omega were sitting on the porch, enjoying the warm Pabu weather. Omega was working on her homework, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Need any help?” Amina asked, glancing over at Omega’s datapad.

Omega looked up, her expression relieved. “Actually, yes. I’m having trouble with this math problem.”

Amina scooted closer, looking at the problem. “Let’s see. Ah, okay. You need to use this formula here.”

They spent the next hour working through Omega’s math homework, Amina patiently explaining each step. Omega’s face lit up as she began to understand, her confidence growing.

“Thanks, Amina,” Omega said, her voice filled with gratitude. “You’re really good at explaining things.”

Amina smiled warmly. “I’m glad I could help. You’re a quick learner, Omega.”

Omega beamed at the compliment, her eyes shining with happiness. They continued to chat, their conversation light and easy.

Later, as the sun began to set, Hunter returned home, his arms laden with groceries. “I’m back,” he called, his voice carrying through the house.

Omega jumped up, rushing to help him. “Do you need any help?”

Hunter smiled, handing her a bag. “Thanks, Omega. How was your afternoon?”

“It was good! Amina helped me with my homework,” Omega replied, her tone cheerful.

Hunter glanced at Amina, his expression softening. “How are you feeling?”

Amina smiled, feeling a sense of warmth at his concern. “Better. Just taking it one day at a time.”

Hunter nodded, setting the groceries down. “Good. We’ll keep taking it slow.”

---

The next morning, Amina and Omega were up early, ready for their morning walk. Amina had been cautious about not overexerting herself, but the gentle walks had been a good way to keep moving without pushing too hard.

As they walked along the path, the island’s beauty surrounding them, Omega glanced up at Amina. “Do you think Amellia will talk to Crosshair today?”

Amina smiled, the memory of their conversation with Amellia coming to mind. “I hope so. She just needs a little push.”

Omega nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe we could help somehow?”

Amina chuckled. “I think we’ve done enough pushing for now. Let’s see if Amellia can find the courage on her own.”

They continued their walk, enjoying the peaceful morning. The island was a sanctuary, a place of healing and renewal, and Amina was grateful for every moment they had here.

When they returned home, Hunter was waiting for them, breakfast ready on the table. “Perfect timing,” he said, his smile warm and welcoming.

Amina returned Hunter's smile, feeling a rush of affection for her husband as she took in the sight of him standing in their cozy kitchen. It was moments like these, simple and mundane yet filled with love, that made her grateful for the life they had built together on Pabu.

Omega practically skipped over to the table, her enthusiasm contagious as she eagerly pulled out a chair and settled into her seat. "Thanks for making breakfast, Hunter," she chirped, her eyes shining with excitement.

Hunter chuckled, a fond look in his eyes as he ruffled Omega's hair affectionately. "You're welcome, kiddo," he replied, his voice warm with affection. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Amina took a seat beside Omega, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her as she looked around the kitchen. "Well, I need to tend to the garden in the front," she said, reaching for a slice of toast. "There’s some weeds that need to be pulled out.”

Hunter nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at Amina. "I'll help you with that after breakfast," he offered, his voice gentle. "We can get it done together."

Omega perked up at the idea. "Can I help too?" she asked eagerly, her youthful enthusiasm shining through.

Amina smiled warmly at Omega. "Of course, sweetie. The more, the merrier," she replied, her tone filled with affection.

As they finished their breakfast, the sense of togetherness and love filled the room, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Afterward, they all headed outside, ready to tackle the garden as a team.

The morning sunbathed the island in a golden glow, the air fresh and invigorating. Amina knelt by the flower beds, her hands moving methodically as she pulled out weeds and tended to the plants. Hunter worked alongside her, his strong presence a comforting constant. Omega darted between them, her laughter ringing out as she helped with smaller tasks.

It wasn't long before the garden looked tidy and well-maintained, the flowers standing tall and proud in their beds. Amina sat back on her heels, wiping a stray strand of hair from her forehead as she surveyed their work with satisfaction.

"Great job, everyone," she said, her voice filled with pride. "The garden looks beautiful."

Hunter straightened up, stretching his back as he smiled down at Amina. "We make a good team," he said, his tone warm and affectionate.

Omega beamed, her eyes shining with happiness. "It was fun," she said, her voice filled with excitement. "Can we do it again sometime?"

Amina chuckled softly. "Of course, Omega," she replied, her tone gentle. "There's always something to do in the garden."

They spent the rest of the morning relaxing on the porch, enjoying the peacefulness of the island. Hunter and Amina shared a quiet moment, their hands intertwined as they watched Omega play with Lyana and Jynna.

Even Wrecker ended up coming over, and him and the kids played with water guns on the grass.

---

A few weeks later, Amellia arrived at their house for a follow-up appointment. She greeted them with a warm smile, her expression bright and reassuring.

"How are you feeling, Amina?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Amina smiled warmly at her friend. "Much better," she replied, her tone cheerful. "I've been taking it easy and following your instructions."

Amellia nodded, her eyes scanning Amina for any signs of discomfort. "That's good to hear," she said, her tone professional yet friendly. "Let's do a quick check-up to make sure everything is healing properly."

Amina nodded, feeling reassured by Amellia's presence. She knew she was in good hands with her friend and trusted her implicitly.

As Amellia conducted the check-up, Hunter stood by Amina's side, his presence a comforting constant. Omega watched with wide eyes, her curiosity evident.

"Everything looks great," Amellia said finally, her tone filled with satisfaction. "You're healing beautifully, Amina. I would say things could go back to normal, but continue to take your hormone medication.”

Amina sighed in relief, her heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you, Amellia," she said sincerely. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done."

Amellia smiled warmly at her friend's words, a sense of pride swelling within her. "It's my pleasure," she replied, her voice filled with genuine affection. "I'm just glad I could help."

As Amellia prepared to leave, Amina and Hunter walked her to the door, their hearts filled with gratitude for their friend's care and support.

"Thank you again, Amellia," Hunter said, his voice warm with appreciation. "We couldn't have done this without you."

Amellia smiled, her eyes shining with warmth. "You're welcome," she replied, her tone gentle. "And remember, I'm always here if you need anything."

With that, she left, leaving Amina and Hunter feeling a renewed sense of hope and gratitude.

---

Amina, Hunter, and Omega walked along the shore looking at the different plants. Omega had a school project where she had to choose one plant native to Pabu and write a short paper on it.

Since Tech was no longer around, they had to do it the hard way. Walking around the entire island.

“Is this one native?” Omega asked again, holding up a pink leaf as Hunter scanned it with his datapad.

“No.” He replied simply.

Omega groaned, “ugh, this is taking forever!”

"It's okay, Omega," Amina said, her tone gentle. "We'll find the right plant soon enough."

Omega sighed, her shoulders slumping with defeat. "I just want to finish this project already," she muttered, her frustration evident.

Hunter looked up from his datapad, a reassuring smile on his lips. "We'll get there, Omega," he said, his voice calm and steady. "We just need to keep looking."

With renewed determination, they continued their search along the shore, the warm sun overhead and the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the shore providing a soothing backdrop.

Omega stopped walking and turned around to face Amina and Hunter, “maybe we should split up?”

Hunter nodded, “alright, find some various plants and bring back leaves or petals and meet back here in 10.”

Omega ran off going South, before going up the mountainside as Hunter and Amina walked West before doing the same.

Amina would pick up leaves on the ground or pick petals off of flowers before handing them over to Hunter as he scanned them.

"I'm starting to think this assignment is a scam," Amina huffed, her voice tinged with exasperation as she picked up yet another leaf and held it out to Hunter.

"We already have tried that leaf," Hunter said calmly, his tone patient as he glanced at the leaf Amina was holding out to him. He could sense her frustration, but he also knew they couldn't afford to give up just yet.

Amina groaned in response, letting the leaf fall from her hand as she cast her gaze out over the shore. They continued walking up the mountainside as Hunter bent down and picked up a small leaf.

Amina walked a few paces away from him and bent down over a white flower with a gold center. She brushed her fingers on the gold center as some of the pollen flew into the air, as well as some on her finger.

Hunter bent down beside her, tearing the flower from its stem and holding it up to scan it. “Nope, still not native.” He said, as the wind blew some of the pollen into the air and Hunter dropped the flower. “Come on, Omega’s probably waiting for us.”

Amina placed her hand in Hunter’s as they went back to the spot where they split up to see Omega walking towards them with her hand full of various leaves and petals.

“I think I found 12 different ones. I hope one of them works.”

Amina smiled warmly at Omega, "I'm sure one of them will work perfectly," she said, her voice filled with reassurance.

Hunter nodded in agreement, a proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You did a great job, Omega," he said, his voice warm with pride. "Let's see if one of them is native.”

Omega would hand Hunter one leaf or petal at a time as he scanned it. Once they got to the 9th one, Omega was hoping that this one, or the other 3 she had would be right.

He scanned it and looked at the information, “seems like this one is a native flower. It’s called a Cantri flower.”

Omega let out a squeal of delight, her excitement bubbling over. "Yes! I knew we could do it!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with happiness. She grabbed the petal from Hunter’s hand, dropping the other 11 leaves and petals. “Come on, let’s go home! I want something to eat.”

Amina and Hunter chuckled as Omega led the way back up the side of the mountain to their house. Amina pulled on her dress’ collar, billowing air into her chest.

It was suddenly uncomfortably hot outside to her, but everyone else seemed fine. Hunter pulled off his jacket, draping it over his arm that was holding the datapad as his other arm draped around her shoulder.

His touch was electric, and it heated her in a completely different way. But she couldn’t tell what was making her so uncomfortable.

Once they turned off the walkway of the mountain and down the brick walkway, Omega turned around to face them as her smile dropped. “Are you guys, okay? You seem kind of… off.”

Amina exchanged a quick glance with Hunter, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to suppress the discomfort coursing through her body. "Yeah, we're fine, Omega," she replied, forcing a smile onto her lips despite the unease swirling within her. "Just a little tired from all the walking, that's all."

Hunter nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring Amina's attempt at reassurance. "Exactly," he said, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth. "We'll be back to our usual selves once we get some rest."

Omega studied them for a moment, her brow furrowing in concern before she finally nodded. "Alright, if you say so," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Let's get back home then."

As they continued down the path, Amina couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort that had settled in her stomach like a heavy stone. She stole a glance at Hunter, who walked beside her with his usual calm demeanor, but she could sense the tension thrumming beneath the surface.

They passed by Amellia’s house when she walked out, holding a small tote bag. “Oh, hey you guys! I was just about to go shopping at the market- Maker, why do you two look…” Amellia trailed off. She tsked before opening her door, “come in, come in.”

“We’re fine Amellia, just tired- ” Amina started as Amellia cut her off.

“In the house. Now.” Amellia stated, as Amina and Hunter shared a look and begrudgingly gave in, walking into Amellia’s house with Omega behind them. Amellia pulled out her datapad, “what symptoms are you feeling?”

“Hot, and… just off.” Hunter said as Amina nodded in agreement.

"Hmm," Amellia murmured, her brow furrowing in concern as she tapped away on her datapad. "Hot and feeling off... Those symptoms could indicate a variety of things." She glanced up at Amina and Hunter, her expression grave. "Given your recent history, Amina, I think it would be wise to run some tests, just to be safe."

Amina exchanged a worried glance with Hunter before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," she said, her voice tinged with apprehension. "Better to be safe than sorry."

Hunter placed a comforting hand on Amina's shoulder, his touch grounding her as they waited for Amellia to finish her assessment. He could sense Amina's anxiety, mirroring his own, but he knew they had to remain calm for Omega's sake.

“But it is weird that Hunter is also feeling this way. Have either of you come into contact with someone who was sick?”

“No.” Amina and Hunter replied at the same time.

“Okay…” Amellia tapped on her datapad, looking at a flower petal in Omega’s hand. “Oh, were you guys outside?”

“We were helping Omega find a plant native to Pabu.” Hunter answered.

Amellia hummed, “it could be dehydration or heat exhaustion, or you came into contact with a poisonous plant, or something bit the two of you. I’ll take some blood tests and me and Omega will go over to the medical center to process them.”

She grabbed the pen and grabbed a blood sample from the tops of their hands, “okay, go home and drink some water. If you feel any pain, maybe take low dose pain medication until I figure what’s wrong.”

Omega and Amellia walked out first as Hunter and Amina followed, walking a few seconds to their house and entering.

Once inside, Amina sank onto the couch, her thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of worry and fear. She glanced over at Hunter, who was pacing back and forth across the living room, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

It was hot, even hotter than before it seemed, and there was a burning sensation slowly building up in her body. And Hunter pacing around wasn’t making it much better, especially now that he was twirling his comm in his fingers.

She reached behind her and untied her dress’ strings, before pulling her arms out of the short puff sleeves. A short sense of relief washed over her before the discomfort came back.

Hunter, still pacing back and forth, glanced over at her, concern etched into his features. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Amina shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips as she sank further into the couch cushions. "Not really," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "If anything, it's getting worse."

Hunter stopped pacing and approached her, kneeling down in front of her with a furrowed brow. "We'll figure this out, Amina," he said, his tone firm yet gentle. "Amellia will run some tests, and we'll know what's going on soon."

His hands on her knees didn’t add any comfort, in fact it made the burning sensation worse. She looked at his face, noticing sweat building up on his forehead as she brushed it away.

Hunter didn’t seem to be any better than her as he took his hands off her knees and slipped off his shirt, throwing it to the side.

As Hunter discarded his shirt, the air seemed to crackle with tension, the heat of the moment mirroring the rising temperature in the room. Amina's gaze lingered on him, the muscles of his chest rippling with every movement, and she felt the urge to trace the skeletal tattoo of his ribs with her fingers and tongue.

Amina swallowed hard, her throat dry as she struggled to find the words to break the suffocating silence that enveloped them. "Hunter," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I... I’m going to get us some water.”

As Amina spoke, her voice quivered with uncertainty, her thoughts tangled in a web of emotions she couldn't quite unravel. She rose from the couch, her movements slow and deliberate, as if weighed down by an invisible burden.

Amina made her way to the kitchen, her steps heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unaddressed fears. She filled a glass with water, her hands trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips and took a sip, the cool liquid offering a brief respite from the suffocating heat that seemed to engulf her.

But it didn’t help much. So, without thinking, she slipped completely out of her dress, leaving her in only her brassiere and underwear. Amina tossed her dress on the kitchen table behind her.

She grabbed another glass and filled it with water, walking into the living room where Hunter moved himself to sit on the couch. She placed her glass of water on the caf table and reached her other hand out with his glass.

Instead of taking the glass he grabbed her by the wrist, the cup falling to the floor, rolling underneath the table as water soaked the rug.

Hunter pulled her onto his lap, his rough hands slowly moving up her back as she let out a low breathy moan. His hands tangled in her hair at the base of her neck as he tilted her head downwards to face him. The heat between them was palpable, a magnetic force drawing them closer as Amina’s breathing grew heavier.

“Hunter...” Amina murmured, her voice a soft plea.

“Shh,” Hunter whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. “Just let it happen.”

His fingers traced the curve of her spine, eliciting a shiver from Amina despite the oppressive heat. She straddled him, feeling the hard muscles of his thighs beneath her. As his hands roamed over her body, the burning sensation inside her seemed to intensify, a fire that could only be quenched by his touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hunter said, his voice husky with desire. He slid his hands down to her hips, pulling her closer, pressing her against his growing erection. Amina gasped, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her already overheated body.

“Hunter, I... I need...” Amina stammered, unable to form coherent thoughts. Her body moved on its own, grinding against him in a desperate attempt to alleviate the burning ache between her legs.

“I know,” Hunter replied, his grip on her tightening. “I’ve got you.”

His hand slipped between them, fingers finding the edge of her underwear. He pushed the fabric aside, his fingers sliding through her slick folds. Amina’s head fell back, a guttural moan escaping her lips as he began to stroke her, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

“Kriff, you’re so wet,” Hunter groaned, his own arousal evident in his voice. He circled her clit with his thumb, teasing her until she was panting, her hips bucking against his hand.

“Please, Hunter,” Amina whimpered, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “I need more.”

“Patience,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. He slid two fingers inside her, her walls clenching around him as he began to pump them in and out, his thumb continuing to circle her clit. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and relief that made Amina’s head spin.

“Yes, just like that,” Hunter encouraged, his free hand gripping her hip to steady her as she rode his fingers. “You’re doing so good.”

Amina’s movements became more frantic, her breath coming in short gasps as she chased her release. Hunter’s fingers curled inside her, hitting that perfect spot that made her see stars. She was close, so close.

“Come for me,” Hunter commanded, his voice rough with need. “Let go, Amina.”

With a cry, Amina’s body tensed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her walls pulsed around his fingers, her juices soaking his hand as she trembled in his arms. Hunter held her through it, his lips pressing gentle kisses to her neck.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice full of pride. “You did so well.”

Amina slumped against him, her body boneless from the intensity of her release. But the burning sensation inside her hadn’t completely abated; it was still there, a simmering heat that demanded more.

“Hunter,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “I still... I need...”

“I know,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm. He shifted her off his lap, grabbing her thighs as he positioned her hips on the armrest of the couch. Amina’s heart raced as he stood, unbuttoning his cargo pants and pushing them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection.

Hunter’s eyes were dark with desire as he stepped between her legs, his hands gripping her hips. “Hold on,” he instructed, his voice a low rumble. “This might be rough.”

Amina braced herself, her hands gripping the couch cushions as Hunter lined himself up with her entrance. He pushed into her in one swift motion, a gasp escaping both their lips as he buried himself to the hilt inside her.

“Kriff,” Hunter groaned, his grip on her hips bruising. He pulled back slightly before thrusting into her again, setting a fast, punishing pace that had Amina crying out in pleasure.

“Yes, Hunter, yes,” she moaned, her nails digging into the fabric of the couch. The heat inside her was almost unbearable, but every thrust, every movement brought her closer to another climax.

“You feel so good,” Hunter panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “So kriffing good.”

Amina’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper as she met his thrusts. The room was filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Hunter, I’m gonna... I’m gonna come,” Amina gasped, her body tensing as the coil inside her wound tighter and tighter.

“Do it,” Hunter growled, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. “Come for me, Amina. Let me feel you.”

With a scream, Amina’s orgasm hit her like a freight train, her walls clamping down around Hunter’s cock as her entire body convulsed with pleasure. Hunter followed her over the edge, a guttural roar escaping his lips as he emptied himself inside her, his hips jerking with each pulse of his release.

For a few moments, they stayed like that, Hunter still buried deep inside her as they both caught their breath. The heat between them had lessened slightly, but the burning sensation was still there, a lingering reminder of the mysterious flower’s effects.

Hunter gently pulled out of her, helping her sit up. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern despite the lingering haze of desire in his eyes.

Amina nodded, her body still trembling from the intensity of their coupling. “I’m okay,” she said softly, her voice a bit shaky. “But... I think…” She trailed off, as Hunter kneeled down and gripped her thighs, pulling her closer over the armrest.

She could feel his warm breath across her pussy, his hands making marks on her thighs. Hunter’s grip tightened as he spread her legs wider, positioning her legs over his shoulders. Amina’s breath hitched, anticipation coursing through her body.

“Hunter…” she murmured, her voice filled with both desire and uncertainty.

“Trust me,” he replied, his voice low and husky. His tongue flicked out, teasing her folds before delving deeper, lapping at her slickness. Amina gasped, her back arching as pleasure shot through her like a bolt of lightning.

His tongue moved expertly, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and quick, teasing flicks. Amina’s hands gripped the couch cushions, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure. Hunter’s fingers dug into her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her, his mouth relentless.

“Hunter, please…” she whimpered, her body trembling.

Hunter’s response was a low growl, his tongue plunging deeper, tasting every inch of her. He found her clit, circling it with his tongue before sucking on it gently, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. Amina’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his mouth.

“You taste so perfect,” he murmured against her, his breath hot and tantalizing.

Amina’s response was a throaty moan, her body writhing with need. She could feel the tension building inside her, a coil winding tighter and tighter. Hunter’s hands moved from her thighs to her hips, pulling her even closer, his tongue driving her closer to the edge.

“Hunter, I’m going to…” she gasped, unable to finish the sentence.

“Do it,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “Come for me, Amina.”

With a cry, Amina’s orgasm ripped through her, her body convulsing as pleasure flooded her senses. Hunter didn’t stop, his tongue continuing to work her through her climax, drawing out every last shudder of pleasure. When she finally stilled, he pulled back, his lips glistening with her arousal.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice full of admiration.

Amina panted, her body still trembling from the intensity of her release. She barely had time to recover before Hunter stood, his eyes dark with need. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her towards the bedroom. The urgency in his movements was palpable, a reflection of the burning desire they both felt.

Once in the bedroom, Hunter pressed her against the wall, his hands roaming over her body. He kissed her fiercely, his tongue claiming her mouth as his own. Amina moaned into the kiss, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Amina obeyed, turning to face the wall. Hunter’s hands were on her in an instant, pulling her underwear down and tossing it aside. He positioned himself behind her, his body pressing against hers, his erection hard against her ass.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Amina shivered at his words, her body alight with desire. Hunter’s hands gripped her hips, lifting her left leg slightly as he positioned himself at her entrance. He pushed into her with one swift motion, a gasp escaping both their lips as he filled her completely.

“Kriff, you feel so good,” Hunter groaned, his grip on her hips tightening.

He set a brutal pace, each thrust hard and fast, driving them both towards the edge. Amina’s hands pressed against the wall for support, her body rocking with each powerful movement. The burning sensation inside her seemed to lessen with each thrust, replaced by waves of pleasure that had her crying out with every breath.

“Hunter, yes,” she moaned, her voice trembling. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice a low growl. “You feel so good.”

His hands moved to her breasts, squeezing them roughly as he continued to pound into her. Amina’s head fell back against his shoulder, her moans growing louder with each thrust. Hunter’s teeth grazed her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“Come for me again,” he commanded, his voice full of authority. “I want to feel you come around me.”

Amina’s body responded to his words, the coil inside her winding tighter and tighter. She could feel her orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure ready to crash over her. Hunter’s thrusts became more erratic, his own release nearing.

“Yes, Hunter, yes,” she cried, her body tensing.

With a scream, Amina’s orgasm tore through her, her walls clenching around Hunter’s cock. The intensity of her release sent him over the edge, a guttural roar escaping his lips as he emptied himself inside her. They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed together, trembling with the aftershocks of their climaxes.

Hunter slowly pulled out of her, turning her to face him. He kissed her gently, his hands cradling her face. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

Amina nodded, her body still tingling with the remnants of pleasure. “I’m okay,” she replied, her voice a bit shaky. “That was…”

“Amazing,” Hunter finished for her, a satisfied smile on his face.

Amina smiled back, leaning into his embrace. The burning sensation inside her had lessened considerably, though it wasn’t completely gone. She looked up at Hunter, her eyes full of love and desire.

“Hunter,” she whispered, her voice still husky from their earlier activities.

He looked down at her, concern mixed with the lingering heat of their passion. “Are you still feeling it?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “Not as bad, but it’s still there.”

Hunter’s hand caressed her cheek, his eyes searching hers. “Then we’ll keep going until it’s gone.”

Amina nodded, her hands sliding down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. She dropped to her knees in front of him, looking up at him with a mixture of desire and determination. Hunter’s breath hitched, his hand tangling in her hair as he watched her.

“You don’t have to,” he said, though his voice betrayed his need.

“I want to,” Amina replied, her hands moving to his hips. Hunter’s hand tightened in her hair as she wrapped her lips around the tip, her tongue swirling around the head.

“Kark, Amina,” Hunter groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

She took him deeper, her mouth working over him with fervor. Hunter’s other hand joined the first in her hair, guiding her movements. His control slipped as the pleasure built, his hips thrusting into her mouth.

“Look at me,” Hunter commanded, his voice rough.

Amina’s eyes met his, her gaze heated and full of want. Hunter’s grip tightened, his thrusts becoming more insistent. She gagged slightly, but the look of determination in her eyes only spurred him on.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he praised, his voice strained. “Such a good girl.”

Amina’s hands moved to his thighs, steadying herself as he fucked her mouth. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t pull away, her tongue working against him with each thrust. Hunter’s breathing grew ragged, his control slipping further.

“Fuck, Amina,” he groaned, his hips snapping forward. “I’m gonna…”

Before he could finish, his release hit him, his cock pulsing in her mouth. Amina swallowed as much as she could, the rest spilling from the corners of her lips. Hunter’s grip loosened, his body trembling with the force of his climax.

He pulled back, lifting her to her feet. “Are you okay?” he asked, wiping the remnants of his release from her lips as she sucked it off his thumb.

Amina nodded, feeling a rush of affection and desire for Hunter. "I'm okay," she replied, her voice soft but steady. She gazed up at him, her eyes still clouded with need. "But it's not gone yet."

Hunter's expression hardened with determination. "Then we keep going." He scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her to their bed and gently laid her down, his hands caressing her body. He could feel the heat radiating off her, the aphrodisiac flower still wreaking havoc on their systems.

He positioned a pillow under her hips, elevating her slightly. Amina's breath hitched as she felt his intentions, the anticipation building once again. Hunter kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hands roamed her body, squeezing her breasts through the fabric of her brassiere.

“Hunter…” she moaned against his lips, her body arching towards him.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured, pulling back to look into her eyes. “You’re my good girl, right?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

“Good,” he growled, his hands slipping behind her to unclasp her brassiere. He ripped it off her, the sound of fabric tearing filling the room. “I want to see all of you.”

Amina gasped as the cool air hit her bare skin, her nipples hardening instantly. Hunter’s hands moved to her breasts, kneading them roughly before taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Yes,” she moaned, her hands threading through his hair. “It feels so good.”

Hunter’s free hand trailed down her body, his fingers slipping between her folds once more. “You’re so wet,” he murmured, his thumb circling her clit. “You like having my come inside you, don’t you cyar’ika?”

Amina’s hips bucked against his hand, her body desperate for more. “Hunter, please…” She whined.

Hunter’s grip tightened on Amina’s hips, feeling her desperation as she moved against his hand. "Patience, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "I’ve got you."

Amina's response was another whimper, her body arching into his touch. "Hunter, I need you," she pleaded, her voice trembling.

Hunter’s fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. "You like this, don’t you? My sweet girl needs more, doesn’t she?"

"Yes," Amina gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, baby. I need you inside me."

Hunter groaned at her words, his own arousal surging. He shifted her, adjusting the pillow under her hips, elevating her just right. He lined himself up with her entrance, pausing to look into her eyes. "You ready for me, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Hunter," Amina replied, her voice breathless. "Please, I need you."

With one swift motion, Hunter thrust into her, a gasp escaping both their lips as he filled her completely. "Oh, Maker," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips.

Amina’s back arched, her body responding to the overwhelming sensation. "Hunter, yes," she moaned, her hands clutching at the sheets.

Hunter set a relentless pace, each thrust deep and powerful. "You feel so good, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice rough. “So good.”

Amina’s breaths came in short gasps, the intensity of their connection driving her wild. "Harder, Hunter," she begged, her hips meeting his thrusts.

Hunter’s grip tightened, his hands moving to pin her wrists above her head. "Like this?" he asked, his voice a low growl as he drove into her harder, his cock hitting deeper with each thrust.

"Yes," Amina cried out, her body trembling. "Oh Maker, Hunter, yes."

Hunter's eyes were dark with desire as he continued to thrust into her, his pace relentless. "You like that, sweetheart?" he growled, his voice rough. "Does that feel good?"

Amina could only nod, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, yes, it feels so good," she moaned, her fingers creating a fist as Hunter kept a steady grip on her wrists.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. "I want to hear you, Amina. Let me hear how much you need this."

Amina's moans grew louder, her body arching into his touch. "I need it so much, Hunter," she whimpered. "I need you."

Hunter's thrusts became harder, each movement driving him deeper inside her. "You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice full of admiration. "So perfect for me."

Amina's nails dug into her palms, her body quivering with each powerful thrust. "Hunter, I'm so close," she gasped, her eyes meeting his.

Hunter's eyes burned with intensity as his thrusts becoming more forceful. "Come for me, Amina," he commanded. "Let go for me."

With a scream, Amina's body convulsed, her orgasm crashing over her. Her walls clenched around Hunter, pulling him deeper as he continued to pound into her.

"That's it, sweetheart," Hunter growled, his grip on her wrists tightening. "Such a good girl."

He didn't slow down, his own release building as he drove into her over and over again. "You feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained. "So kriffing good."

Amina's body shook with the force of her climax, her moans filling the room. "Hunter, please," she begged, her voice hoarse. "I need more."

Hunter's eyes darkened with desire as let go of her wrists and pulled her closer, his hips slamming into hers. "You want more, sweetheart?" he growled. "I'll give you more."

His hands moved to her hips, lifting them slightly as he angled himself to hit deeper. Amina's breath hitched, the new angle sending waves of pleasure through her body.

"Yes, Hunter," she moaned, her fingers clenching around his biceps. "Just like that."

Hunter's pace was punishing, each thrust harder than the last. "You like it rough, don't you?" he growled, his eyes locked on hers. "You like when I take you like this."

Amina's response was a choked moan, her body trembling. "Yes, Hunter, I love it," she gasped. "I love it when you take me like this."

Hunter's hands moved to her thighs, spreading her legs wider as he drove into her. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice full of admiration. "So kriffing beautiful."

Amina's eyes fluttered closed, her body overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection. "Hunter, I can't," she whimpered, her voice trembling.

"Yes, you can," Hunter growled, his hands gripping her thighs. "You're strong, sweetheart. You can take it."

Amina's body responded to his words, the coil inside her winding tighter and tighter. "Hunter, I'm going to," she gasped, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Do it," Hunter commanded, his voice rough. "Come for me again, Amina. I want to feel you."

With a cry, Amina's orgasm tore through her, her walls clenching around him. Hunter's grip tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he followed her over the edge.

"Kriff, Amina," he groaned, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside her. "You feel so good."

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed together, trembling with the aftershocks of their climaxes. Hunter slowly pulled out of her, his eyes searching hers.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, letting out a soft sigh, “yeah, much better.”

Amina leaned her head against Hunter's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. She felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. Despite the uncertainty of their situation, she found solace in the arms of the man she loved.

Hunter's fingers gently traced circles on her back, his touch comforting and reassuring. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering against her skin as he savored the moment. For him, there was no greater joy than being with Amina, sharing these intimate moments that bound them together in a way that nothing else could.

His head moved off the pillow as Amina got onto her elbows, “what is it?” She asked.

“Amellia is at the door.” He responded.

Amina hurriedly got off the bed and grabbed a pastel green nightgown and quickly slipped it on going to the front door. “Yes?”

“I ran your blood tests and I found out what is wrong. You probably ran into some sort of flower that contained a strong aphrodisiac, or in simpler terms, a sex pollen. The best course of action would be to- ” Amellia looked up from her datapad, finally looking at Amina and a few of clothes strewn about the living room.

“Oh. It seems you already figured out the antidote.” Amellia said, tucking hair behind her ear.

Amina adjusted her legs, the soreness from her and Hunter’s escapades settling in. “Seems so.”

“Well, that’s good. Because sometimes if you don’t do anything, it can actually lead to death.”

Amina blinked rapidly, sex pollen? It seemed like something out of a cheap holo-drama, not anything that would happen in real life. “W- wait. Sex pollen is real, and it can lead to death?”

“Yes.” Amellia stated, “and masturbation won’t work, you have to really exhaust yourself. It’s quite strenuous actual- ”

Amina cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she struggled to find the right words. "Um, yeah, okay, great. So... we're cured because we... well, you know," she stammered, her gaze flickering nervously to the scattered clothes strewn across the living room floor.

Amellia nodded, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yes, it seems you've stumbled upon the antidote quite effectively," she said, her tone laced with amusement. "Sometimes, nature provides the most unexpected solutions."

Amina shifted uncomfortably, the weight of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders. The idea that something as innocuous as a flower could have such potent effects seemed almost surreal. Yet here they were, living out their own unexpected romance amidst the chaos of their daily lives.

"So, what now?" Amina asked, her voice hesitant. "Do we just... wait for the effects to wear off?"

Amellia nodded, her expression serious once more. "Yes, that's usually the best course of action," she replied, her tone professional. "But if you experience any lingering symptoms or discomfort, don't hesitate to come see me. I'll be here to help."

Amina offered a grateful smile, her heart still racing from the intensity of their encounter. "Thank you, Amellia," she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "For everything."

Amellia returned the smile, her gaze warm with understanding. "Of course, Amina," she said, her tone gentle. "Just take care of yourselves, alright? I’ll have Omega stay overnight with me.”

With a final nod, Amellia bid them farewell, leaving Amina and Hunter alone once more in the quiet confines of their home. Amina turned to face Hunter, her heart fluttering in her chest as she took in the sight of him, shirtless and tousled from their earlier activities.

"I can't believe that actually happened," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Hunter chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yeah, me neither," he said, his tone light. "But I'm not complaining."

Amina's cheeks flushed with heat as she met his gaze, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Despite the unexpected turn of events, she couldn't deny the rush of emotion that surged through her at the thought of being with Hunter, intimately and unreservedly.

"I guess we should probably clean up," she said, her voice tinged with reluctance as she glanced at the scattered clothes strewn across the floor.

Hunter nodded in agreement, a playful smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, probably," he said, his tone teasing. "But first, I think we should... take a shower."

Amina's cheeks flushed with heat at his suggestion, but she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, a shower sounds... good," she said, her voice breathless with anticipation.

y'all have no idea how excited i am for the next chapter!! that's where things start to get real interesting…

tags: @callsign-denmark

[staticespace]

A Warning About Post-Menopausal Bleeding

Text Transcription:

I am a Family Doctor and I want to keep a promise made to a patient.

Julie was a healthy, post-menopausal woman in my care who came in for a periodic health examination. One of my routine questions, in what is called the "Review of Systems", was to ask if she had experienced any vaginal bleeding.

She said "No" but then laughed and added, "Other than when my period came back for a few months last year".

All health care professionals are taught early on that 'vaginal bleeding in a post-menopausal woman is Cancer of the Uterus until proven otherwise'. This comment by Julie was, therefore, a red flag (no pun intended) prompting further questions, an examination and an ultrasound of her pelvis.

Julie was surprised to see me so concerned, especially since the symptoms had not recurred over many months.

Sure enough, a pelvic ultrasound and tissue sampling confirmed Cancer of the Uterus.

Julie underwent a hysterectomy and radiation therapy. She is now healthy, cancer-free and is expected to stay that way.

After all this was done, Julie sat ME down for a talk. She told me she'd had no idea a 'short return' of her period after menopause was a danger signal. Furthermore, she addressed the topic with friends over coffee and discovered that, out of 20 women, NONE of them knew this symptom was abnormal! She admonished me to "Tell women this! Don't assume we know it!"

From that day on, I have kept Julie's advice in mind when talking with post-menopausal patients. But recently my wife suggested that I should take this to a wider audience.

So, Julie, this is for you:

If you are a post-menopausal woman and your period 'comes back' or you have even one episode of vaginal bleeding, TELL A HEALTH CARE PROFESSIONAL and insist on having it investigated!

Wishing you all good health and long lives.

— Sheila Toll on Facebook, posted September 2nd of an unknown year.

End Transcription.

I think this may also apply to people whose periods stopped earlier on, pre-menopause. So yeah, if the bleeding stops for years or something, but then 'comes back', you gotta check that out.

Be safe out here.

[lucywrites02]

Between the lines

Main Masterlist

A/N: It's- a me! The writer who finally posts something! It's my first one shot that is over 10k and I've worked on it for weeks. It was a challenge, but I had a lot of fun and I'm really proud of it. This story is messy and maybe some of you won't like the ending, but I wrote it for myself and I like it. if you find this story nice tho it would be amazing if you rebloged it or left a comment :3 now to the story!!!!

Pairing: Stephen Strange x gn! Reader

Word count: 10.5k

Warnings: slow burn, mention of a shitty ex, talk about therapy, the reader has mixed feelings about therapy because of their shitty ex, working too much, anxiety attack, not taking meds (I hope I mentioned everything, but if i missed something please let me know!) Probably some grammar mistakes

Summary: After becoming the sorcerer supreme Stephen gets the access to the ancient one's private library full of ancient tomes in languages the doctor hasn't even heard of. Luckily Wong's childhood friend is willing to help and becomes their personal translator.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” Wong greeted you with a wide smile- you didn’t even step into the building when the man picked you up, hugging you tightly. Oh how you missed his hugs! “You have no idea how happy I am that you came.” The librarian let you go and sighed heavily. He embraced you one more time before he took your bags and gestured you to walk in. 

You looked around, mesmerised. It was quite a while since you’ve last been to the New York sanctum and even though nothing really changed it still felt foreign. The stairs looked exactly how they used to, but the carpet looked a bit more red than you remember it. Did they clean this old thing or bought a new one?  And then there was that old foyer where you used to spend most of your nights, reading some random fantasy novels you found in the nearest library. It was funny how you always insisted on reading those books instead of ancient tomes about real magic. You smiled, remembering that time the former guardian of this building  scolded you for sitting too close to the fire and accidentally burning half a page of your book. Thankfully it was no book about sorcery- otherwise you would already be dead because Wong would definitely kick your ass for that. This guy was basically your family but he wouldn’t hesitate to  make you pay for damaging something valuable.

“I put your bags in your room.” Your friend’s voice pulled you out of your transe, but you couldn’t stop smiling. You really missed this place. Turning around, your eye caught a glimpse of the closing portal behind your favourite sorcerer. “Tea?” 

“Yes, please!” You said and followed Wong to the kitchen, walking with that happy jump to your steps, already excited to spend some time with your friend. When you were still a sorcerer, tea time with Wong always meant exchanging gossip- it was your favourite time of the day. And now you guys had a lot to talk about. “Oh man,” you exhaled and sat down on an old wooden chair right next to the kitchen island, “I missed your tea soooo much.” you giggled and breathed in the smell of your favourite flavour. “Did you buy this tea for me? You know I love it.”

“I actually did it myself.” The man said, proudly and poured your beverage to a ceramic cup from his favourite set. You smiled upon seeing the mugs you got him for his birthday a few years ago. Wong said it was his most valuable possession. “I picked up gardening last year and then decided to experiment with tea. I hope you like it.”

“Gardening? That’s interesting. You didn't mention it at all.” you took a sip and literally melted in your chair. Is this how heaven felt like? “Wow, this is amazing!” you took another sip and closed your eyes, cherishing the taste it left on your tongue. “And you did it yourself?” 

“I did.” The librarian puffed his chest like a proud peacock, making you smile again. “And there’s a lot I have to tell you so buckle up- I have a lot of tea to spill.” Wong said, looking at you and expecting a laugh at his oh so genius pun. You were trying to look unamused, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but you didn’t care to be honest. Yes, that pun was terrible, but still funny! You wouldn’t apologise for laughing at your friend’s corny joke.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

“This is the last time I went to that store alone.” Stephen spoke into the empty air- his voice echoed through the hall with no one around to listen to his whining. The sorcerer supreme sighed, closing the door to the sanctum with his foot and then headed to the kitchen to unpack all those bags. The list Wong gave Stephen was longer than usual and the amount of food the man purchased would last for him and Wong for a whole month. The librarian insisted that his colleague should go to this very specific store at the other side of the city- which Stephen found quite weird but when he questioned it, Wong went on a long rant, explaining to him that they had your favourite kind of noodles and that their spices were top tier. Stephen had never met you, but he could see how much Wong respected you. You were obviously someone very important, but were you worth taking the train and two buses filled with annoying people just to get all those groceries that could be bought from the farmer’s market three blocks away from the sanctum? Stephen didn’t think so.

As he neared the kitchen, the sorcerer could hear someone talking. One of the voices belonged to Wong- Stephen was sure of that- but the other one he had never heard before. Have you already arrived? The doctor stopped in his tracks and sighed when he realised that he wasn’t exactly looking like the most important sorcerer at the moment. What kind of a first impression was this going to be? Would you judge his casual outfit or pay it no mind? It was hard to tell since Wong refused to tell Stephen anything about you other than the fact that you could translate all of the books for him. He didn’t even get your backstory or anything about you as a person. Wong obviously liked you, otherwise he would never have invited you to the sanctum, but the doctor didn’t know what to expect from you. He knew nothing about you. Stephen hated not knowing. 

Lost in thought, he didn’t even notice when the hallway’s wooden floor beneath his feet changed to the turquoise kitchen teals. 

“Speak of the devil and he will bring you groceries.” The librarian spoke, greeting his fellow sorcerer as he walked into the room. 

The doctor’s eyes fell on the person sitting on the counter, face hidden behind the ceramic mug- Stephen was pretty sure that the dish was supposed to keep your smile hidden. So much for a decent first impression. Thanks to Wong.

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You looked at the man who just walked in- bags full of food in his hands. Wong has told you plenty about the new sorcerer supreme, but you didn’t expect to see someone in their late 30s to be the most important sorcerer on earth. You knew he was in his late 30s because your friend has mentioned it once, but the grey in his hair made Doctor Strange look a bit older. 

Awkwardly hopping off the counter you put your empty mug aside and walked towards the sorcerer supreme. “Let me help you with those.” You said, pointing at the bags. They were probably really heavy. You didn’t wait for a response and took some stuff in your own hands. “Wong, do you need an invitation or something?” You called, putting the groceries on the kitchen island. 

Stephen huffed- almost giggled- when he saw how quickly Wong stood up and took the remaining bags from him. He might not have made a good entrance, but you have for sure impressed him. And you seemed like a really friendly person, too.

“Where are my manners!” You gasped, realising that this guy probably didn’t even know your name and you were so freely opening his cupboards and stuffing them with food. It must have looked weird to him. Leaving Wong to unpack the rest by himself, you walked over to Stephen the second time this day, extending your hand to properly greet him. “It’s an honour to meet you, Doctor Strange.” You heard a lot about this man- the best neurosurgeon in the US, maybe even the world, who graduated young with 5 phDs and then became the sorcerer supreme within a few months of studying magic. It was impressive. You admired him in a way. Wong spoke of him highly as well. Although he did mention the doctor’s arrogance and his ‘dumbassery’ as your friend called it.

Stephen watched your hand move up and then stop midair between your bodies. You wanted to shake hands….

He didn’t have his gloves! What if you stared at them? Even unintentionally. He couldn’t let you see his hands without the gloves on. Maybe he should stop worrying about them so much. Stephen has been trying to put an end to his overthinking but it was harder than he thought. You didn’t seem like a judgy person though. 

Before he could make a decision you already pulled your hand away. He didn’t even notice that his own moved behind his back- hiding from your eyes.

“Wong has told me plenty about you.” You smiled, knowing perfectly well that your friend didn’t want his colleague to know about that. “I’m glad I could finally meet you.”

“I’m grateful you decided to help us out.” Stephen spoke, not really knowing what he should say to you. He didn’t know you at all, meanwhile you seemed to know him pretty well. “Wong said you specialise in  translating ancient languages.”

“That’s right! I have translated most of the books from the library in Kamar-Taj and a great amount of books from the London Sanctum.” You announced proudly. 

“You always asked for those books when you were studying. You should thank our guest for providing your monolingual brain with all that knowledge.” Wong called as he put the last products in the fridge. The librarian was obviously not interested in your awkward ‘get to know  each other’ conversation and would rather go back to gossiping with you about some of the masters from Hong Kong. He didn’t even get to the part where Master Emily was having an affair with Master Min and that they got married in secret two weeks ago. 

“It was all you?” Stephen asked, surprised. During his stay in Kamar-Taj the doctor had read dozens of books- in the beginning of his journey with sorcery said books were mostly in English, but once he memorised them he started reading the versions of those books in the original languages. It helped him learn how to read sanskrit in two weeks. “I must say I’m impressed. They proved to be very helpful.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” You couldn’t stop smiling- it was rare to hear people praising you and you always got excited when that happened. “How many books do you have for me, Doctor?” 

“Oh, yes, please follow me.” Before he could leave, Stephen turned around to Wong, “is it my turn or your turn to make dinner tonight?” 

“It’s your turn.” The librarian spoke as he moved to exit the kitchen and walk to his own room.

It was Wong’s turn.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

“20 books?” You said, looking at the old tomes in Stephen’s office. 

“I know it's a lot and I understand if you don’t want to do all of that-”

“You want them translated into English, right?” You asked and picked up the first book from the enormous pile, laying on the sorcerer’s desk.

“Yes, of course.” the sorcerer paced awkwardly around his room and watched as you went through the master’s guide to astral projection in mirror dimension. Was it embarrassing that the sorcerer supreme needed assistance to read books? The Ancient One didn’t need a translator and most of the Masters were fluent in more than one language. Stephen made a mental note to download duolingo. But did they teach Hebrew from two thousand years ago?

“Would you like me to translate it into any other languages?” 

“How many do you know?” The doctor asked, curious.

“7 if we only count the old ones.” You answered and picked up another book, carefully inspecting its spine. Maybe if you find the time you will restore some of them as well. 

“And if we count the new ones?” 

“24.”

“How long will it take you to translate them?” Stephen changed the subject, feeling quite intimidated by your skills. He wouldn’t tell this to anyone, but last night he really needed to translate some notes and used Google to do it. Needless to say the spell was a disaster and the doctor swore to never use google translate for spells ever again. Even if he’s desperate.

Your eyes scanned the heavy tomes in front of you once more while your brain tried to calculate the amount of work you were about to begin.

“Two months. Maybe three.” You answered, putting your hands into the pockets of your black zip up hoodie. “I can start tonight.”

“Three months per book or-”

“All of them. I need to print the pages and then bind them into a new book and that will also take some time- hence three months.” You explained, knowing perfectly well that you would probably do it in two months. That’s if you were able to hide from Wong that you worked using your astral form in your sleep. He would never let you hear the end of it if he found out. “Now let’s talk about payment.” You walked around the desk and sat down at a little armchair in the corner.

Stephen stood frozen in place, watching you making yourself comfortable. He felt embarrassed because he didn’t take into consideration that you would want money for your services. Now that he thought of it he felt stupid for not thinking about it. The sorcerer’s hand wandered up his neck, scratching the skin on his nape as if that would help him come up with a solution. 

“Oh dear, I was just kidding!”  You laughed, covering your mouth with your palm. “I don’t want your money, Doctor.”

Those words made Stephen breathe out in relief. “Are you sure? You said it will take you three months. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect you to do this for free.” Yes, Stephen didn’t have money, but the thought of you getting nothing in return for your hard work rubbed him the wrong way.

“You really don’t need to worry about money, Doctor.” You stood up and walked up to the pile of books again, your fingers tracing the spines as you continued- “I want to do this for the sanctum. Besides you letting me stay here is already enough. Those books are for the sorcerer supreme only and I’m honoured that you’re entrusting me with them even though we don’t know each other.”

“I’m happy to hear that because we are broke.” Stephen said, causing you to laugh again. You were a very nice person and Stephen liked your personality a lot. Your aura was friendly and kind which was something this place really needed. “I guess that means you’re hired!” The sorcerer joked.

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

“Please call me Stephen.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Rubbing your eyes, you leaned back in your chair. A little desk lamp and your laptop were the only sources of light in the library. You couldn’t tell how late it was but  you knew you should stop and call it a day. In the first two weeks of your stay in New York you have already done more than you expected. If you kept up that pace you would be done in less than two months, but working all day since sunrise and then writing in your astral form all night wasn’t healthy. Plus Wong started to be suspicious and took your sling ring so astral projecting was off the table for a while.

As much as you loved peace and quiet, the sounds of New York’s nightlife made you a bit nostalgic. Honking of a car, laughter of tourists- things like that would annoy most people, especially at this hour, but you missed it. You missed this city. Maybe once you were  done with your work in the sanctum you would stay for a bit longer. Just because. And to be completely honest you really missed hanging out with Wong. It felt like a family reunion and you loved it. You didn’t know how much you needed this until now. It felt so good to be with people who genuinely cared about you and wanted you around. You haven’t felt wanted ever since your failed relationship a year ago. It was a very disappointing experience that damaged your confidence, but thankfully Wong was there to help you  pick up the broken pieces like a good friend. Nights like this one always send your mind in all the wrong places.

“Can’t sleep?” Stephen’s voice called from the entrance, making you jump in your chair. Your hand rested on your chest, feeling the rapid beat of your heart caused by the person standing in the doorway. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled apologetically and put some papers on the desk next to yours. “Isn’t it a bit too late for that?” The doctor pointed at the white screen of your laptop with a cup of tea in his hand.

“I was actually going to take a break.” You announced with a yawn and stretched your arms over your head so hard your  whole body shook. “I don’t have much left though and I could always rest after it’s done.”

The sorcerer hummed, looking at your screen. “You want to tell me that you have almost translated the whole book?” His eyes moved between the laptop, your notes and the heavy tome laying on the desk.

“Yes?” 

“600 pages in less than two weeks?” Stephen took a sip of his already cold tea, cringing at the bitter taste.

“I'm actually finishing the second book.” You said, moving your arms around in hope it would ease the pain in your back. “Impressive, I know.” You joked, winking at the man sitting next to you.

“It actually is quite impressive.”

“My secret is Wong's black tea 5 times a day with three sugars and astral projection after midnight.” Stephen’s laugh echoed through the empty library, making you smile. The two of you didn’t spend much time together- he had his duties as sorcerer supreme and you were working on your translations. Neither of you wanted to disturb the other one. The only conversations you had so far were the ones around the dinner table with Wong. It was nice, but you wished you had more time to get to know Stephen. “Although he confiscated my sling ring so I can’t do that anymore.”

“It’s not healthy to use your astral form too often.” The man said, knowing he sounded like a hypocrite, but you didn’t have to know it. “Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

“Didn’t you use it every night back in Kamar- Taj to read?” You asked, amused by the look on Stephen's face.

“So he told you.”

“Wong tells me everything.” You grinned, narrowing your eyes playfully. 

"Everything?" The doctor asked in a tone that sounded more like a dare. You weren't expecting the new sorcerer supreme to be such a chill person and you were glad that he liked to mess around sometimes. It made your stay at the sanctum a lot more fun than you thought it would be.

"Everything, including that one time you accidentally turned a student into a cat because you didn't read the spell correctly." You whispered, slowly gathering all of your notes and closing your laptop. You knew you wouldn't get anything else done that night. "But just so you know- Wong speaks very highly of you. He enjoys sharing those funny stories with me though." 

"Good to know," Stephen grinned, feeling quite relieved that his colleague- friend- respects him beyond his occasional arrogance. "He has never told me anything about you before though." He said, sounding almost disappointed. Maybe Stephen and Wong weren't that close yet. They tend to talk about other students and masters, but never about their lives outside of the sorcery world. They should definitely change that.

"Is there anything you'd like to know, Doctor?" You stood up to throw away the pieces of paper that you didn't need anymore and stretched your legs a bit. It felt so good to move around like that after a whole day of sitting.

"It would be nice to get to know you better, but I think it's quite late and we both should be sleeping." The man said and yawned which made you yawn, too. Yeah, it was really late. 

"I think you're right. I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone hold a conversation." Looking down at the desk you decided to clean the rest tomorrow. It wasn't going to run away. 

"You could take a free day tomorrow and accompany me to London." Stephen suggested. You were a really nice person and the sorcerer liked your friendly spirit. You liked to joke around- even with Wong- and Stephen would lie if he said that he didn't wish for you to stay longer. He didn't feel so lonely with you around. Yes, you didn't talk much but he knew that you were always in the library with Wong and it made this place less…. lonely. 

"I would like that! I haven't been to London in ages." 

"Let me walk you to your door." The Doctor said, offering you his arm with a playful little bow.

The two of you stayed silent while you walked- neither of you had enough energy to talk anymore. The sound of your synchronised steps echoed through the empty halls. The distance from the library to your bedroom wasn't too long but it felt like eternity to get there. A free day was probably a good idea- you could feel the effects of your constant work and seriously needed a day to yourself.

The only words spoken between you were the whispered goodnights and the sanctum was dead silent again.

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"You want to tell me that one day you just went on a walk and accidentally walked into the sanctum in Hong Kong?" Stephen asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. 

The two of you decided to have brunch in a little cafe near the park- for you it was more like breakfast, but there was a 6 hour difference between NYC and London. The place was lovely and the chilly weather of early spring in England combined with the beautiful scenery of trees and the river made you smile. 

You took a sip of your tea and smiled at the memory.

"I was a kid and didn't know I wasn't allowed there."  You explained, trying to make sense of your actions from the past. "I was 8 and got bored so my grandmother told me to go play with other kids, but I got lost on my way to the playground and ended up in the sanctum." Stephen watched you carefully which meant he was really interested in the story. He rested his cheek on his hand and you continued, " I got really scared because I realised that I wasn't supposed to be there and when someone tried to talk to me I ran and hid in the library-" you had to laugh at that. Little you were terrified, but the older you found the story hilarious. "Wong found me an hour later crying under the desk and then walked me home." 

"That's an adventure." The doctor laughed- the wrinkles under his eyes made themselves more prominent. It suited him. Happiness suited him.

"My grandma then made cookies and told me to give them to the nice man who got me back home." You smiled and took another sip of your drink. "And then I just kept coming there whenever I had time and hung out with Wong in the library. He made me his apprentice- although he was still just a student himself. I insisted and he couldn't get rid of me." 

"Really?" The sorcerer would love to see the little you annoying Wong so much he had to make you his apprentice to shut you up.

"No, he actually asked if I wanted to study under him."

"Did you say yes?" A sudden blow of cold wind made the sorcerer shiver, but he didn't pay much attention to it. Talking with you felt so natural and it felt like you've been friends forever. It was nice to have this connection with someone. Stephen really needed to feel normal every once in a while and sitting with you outside of a cafe on a chilly afternoon in London made him feel normal.

"Take a guess, doctor."

"Right, that was a stupid question." Strange grinned, hiding his face in the hoodie he wore to shield himself from the wind. Stephen could tell you he wanted to go inside, but you seemed to enjoy the chilly weather. He wouldn't die if the wind picked up every now and then.

"There are no stupid questions." You said, playing with the remains of your tea that were too cold to enjoy anymore.

"I like your mindset, but as someone who worked in medicine for years I can tell you that some people ask very stupid questions." 

"I can only imagine." 

"So why is it that I have never met you before. I was in Kamar-Taj for a very long time and I visit other sanctums whenever I need to, which is pretty often." The doctor was curious how he managed to not see you even once during his stay in all those places.

"Oh, I left the sorcery world when I was older because I got  into a university in Scotland. I still kept in touch with Wong and some other masters though. I even visited New York last year but it was only for the weekend and you weren't there." 

"What did you study?" 

"You will never believe when I tell you." You wiggled your eyebrows with a smirk on your face.

"Surprise me." Steohen said, already suspecting what your answer was going to be. 

"I studied ancient languages and became a translator for an archeology centre in Greece when I graduated." You didn’t mention to him that you quit working in said centre after one of your colleagues broke your heart into a million pieces and walked all over it. He didn’t have to know about your failed romances. At least not yet. 

"No way." The doctor fake gasped causing you to laugh again.

"Shocking, I know." 

"I would have never expected it." He kept playing along, amused by your silly shenanigans. "Why languages? Was it like your passion or a hobby?" He asked, coming back to his more serious self. 

"I always learned fast- I took Latin in school and then thought it would be fun to learn similar languages so my mom signed me up for French classes, I learned Spanish at home because I was tired of French and then took Swedish to change things a bit. Then there was Japanese, Korean and Hindu. And then when I started spending more time in Kamar-Taj I thought it would be very fun to be fluent in languages no one speaks anymore. It all just came natural to me. I was good at it so I decided to do it for a living." You explained; your gaze getting lost in the picture of the clouds changing their shapes. Taking a deep breath you tried to think of a good topic of conversation, but Stephen beat you to it and spoke again.

"That's really interesting. Your brain is fascinating." 

"My brain you say?" You remembered that he used to be a doctor from what Wong told you, but you didn't know what kind.

"I mean- you possess so much knowledge I can only imagine how amazing your neural connections must be." Stephen continued, his hands flying around as the words left his mouth.

"That is the strangest compliment I have ever gotten- I love it." You put your hand on your chest, trying to show your gratitude. "Pun not intended."

Your afternoon was filled with fluid conversations that seemed to have no end. Stephen asked about your family, friends, hobbies. Being your polite self you asked them the same questions and found things that Wong didn't tell you.

 For example, the sorcerer supreme used to play piano and was pretty good at it. His love for music extended farther than just listening to sounds- he also liked to create them. The doctor hid it well, but you could see the sadness in his eyes when he told you about his musical skills. It was because of his hands- that was for sure. They wandered down under the table, hiding from your eyes as he spoke about his passions. You had scars of your own- you understood the struggle. 

But it was still painful to see- ever since you met him Stephen was nothing but confident in everything he did. Sometimes he walked the thin line between confidence and arrogance, but it was a part of his charm. He never was an asshole- not to you, not to Wong. Not even to that kid who tried to put graffiti on the sanctum's walls two days ago. At the end of the day Stephen- although still very much powerful- was just a man. A human being with insecurities. 

"Did you play the banjo as well?" You asked resting your chin on your fist- elbows on the table. 

"Just because I'm from Nebraska doesn't mean I know how to play the banjo." Stephen defended himself, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

"Answer my question, Stephen." You demented, pointing a finger at him and trying to hold in your laughter. Stephen's lips formed a thin line. The red on his cheeks became more prominent- maybe it was the cold. 

"Yes." The sorcerer mumbled.

"What was that?" 

"I won't repeat myself." 

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You’ve been in the New York sanctum for over a month now and it was the first time ever that all of you were in the library at the same time. Right after your morning tea the three of you headed there to do your own things- you wanted to finish translating the book on interdimensional herbs, Wong was going to fix a spine of his book of shadows meanwhile Stephen was trying to upgrade some spell. It was quiet, but very cosy. Almost domestic if you dared say that. 

Speaking of Stephen- ever since that day in London you became pretty good friends. He talked to you more, made sure you took breaks when working. Sometimes he would invite you to go grocery shopping with him and Wong. Yeah, it was really domestic. You never expected the sorcerer supreme to be so friendly towards you, but you were glad he proved you wrong. You were happy to have a friend like him. This place really felt like home when Wong and Stephen were there with you. You really felt wanted.

Wong was basically family to you and you always felt wanted around him, but it really surprised you how hard Stephen was trying to make you feel at home. Making your favourite food for dinner, taking you on walks. One time you and the doctor were talking about movies and he even suggested a movie night. You accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder that time and Wong took a photo of it. It looked pretty cute- you had to admit that. But the more you looked at that polaroid- or thought about everything you did with Stephen- you realised that there might be something more between the two of you than friendship. 

You saw each other every day- talked every day- for over a month now. Just a month but it felt like years. It scared you a bit. How quickly you were developing a crush on this man. And it wasn’t like you didn’t want to get involved with him romantically- Stephen was a great person. But your last relationship left a hole in your heart and even though a lot of time had passed since that failed romance you were still weary when it came to dating. Especially if the person of your interest was the most powerful sorcerer that you have met only a month ago! Plus you were literally working for this man. 

It was a shame that you had to leave so soon. After you got your sling ring back you continued to work 24/7, translating 15 books in two weeks which was your new record. Wong had volunteered to book-bind a few pages, making your job even easier. Meaning that you would be done even faster. To be honest you didn’t want to go back to your job in ‘real life’. Yes, you loved it, but you didn’t realise how much you missed the world of sorcery until now. 

You were torn between wanting to be a sorcerer again and having a normal life. Your fingers stopped typing as your eyes stared at the bright screen of your laptop- not really focusing on anything. The sound of your keyboard had been the only thing filling the silence. Now the air in the room was dead and empty. Looking around you watched as the two men worked on their own things and decided to take a short break- make some tea for the boys, stretch, think about your future. Stuff like that. And so you left quietly, knowing that neither of them probably even noticed that you were gone. 

Little did you know that one of your friends was watching you all the time. Wong sensed that something wasn't right. The moment you picked up another book to translate your mood shifted. It was odd and Wong didn’t like seeing you like this.

“SHIT!” you shrieked as you turned around and saw the librarian, standing in the kitchen doorway. “I could have dropped the kettle!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” The man apologised and sat down at the table, trying to figure out how to even start this conversation with you. Deciding it would be easier to just rip the bandaid off he spoke again. “You seem sad today. Is everything alright?” 

The question surprised you. “I didn’t think you’d notice.” You didn’t disagree. You didn’t see the point in hiding your feelings and you had always trusted Wong. You could tell him everything without the fear of being judged. 

“I wanted to get this job done as quickly as possible-” you said, fiddling with the kettle in your hands. “And now that I'm almost done I don’t think I want to leave.”

“Then stay.” He smiled at the thought of you living in the sanctum again. This last month reminded Wong of the good old days when you used to share a house and do all kinds of stuff together from practising spells to folding laundry. 

“Do you think Stephen would allow it?” you asked, shyly. The doctor was in charge of the sanctum after all so it all depended on him and his decision. 

“He adores you! Of course he would allow it.” The librarian rolled his eyes when he said the word ‘adore’ which made your face feel a little bit warmer for some reason. “Just ask him about it. He will be thrilled to hear that you’re staying.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Another week passed and you still haven’t asked Stephen. Wong’s words made you rethink some things and reflect on everything that happened in the last month. Closing the book you’ve been working on for the past two days you realised that there’s only one of them left. 

Your friend’s words played in your brain like a broken record. 

‘He adores you’

You didn’t want that. 

Okay, maybe you did, but you weren’t ready for that yet. You weren’t ready to get your heart broken again. Besides you weren’t planning on staying any longer than necessary so why even worry about it?

Laying on your bed, you stared at the white ceiling, trying to come up with a solution to your- not so little- problem when a knock on your door pulled you out of your head.

“Hi.” Stephen whispered- his head peeking from behind the door. “I saw the light in your room was still on and wanted to check on you.” The sorcerer invited himself in and leaned his shoulder on the wall. 

Your eyes fell on the jar of cookies he was holding in his hands. Stephen’s gaze followed yours and the doctor smirked.

“I was going to eat them alone, but since I’m already here would you like one?” He said, taking a step forward and sitting at the edge of your bed. You moved, too- your back straight against the headboard. It created more distance between you which wasn’t really intentional, but you were glad that there was a bit more space. Of course you would love nothing more than to get closer to Stephen, but it was all happening so quickly. And you hated yourself for feeling that way.

“So…” The jar lid popped open and your friend took two cookies out of it, handing you one with a silent question. You took it without thinking twice; your fingers brushed and a shiver went down your spine. “You couldn’t sleep again?”

You signed, taking a bite and not really caring about the crumbs on your sheets. 

“Not really.” You managed to say between the bites. Stephen observed you carefully- almost like he was studying your face and all your movements. You had plenty of conversations that started in this exact way. Usually you would talk the night away, but you weren’t in the mood to talk for so long.

“Is everything alright?” The sorcerer’s voice echoed through the room- it was deep and very soft. You loved listening to him talk, not only because you liked how his voice sounded, but also because he was always very nice to you when you two talked. 

“Why shouldn’t it be?” You raised your brow, hugging your knees close to your chest to get some comfort.

“Wong said you’ve been ignoring him. And you’ve been ignoring me, too.” The doctor mimicked your pose, now fully sitting on your bed. “I know we don’t know each other as long as you and Wong do, but I still care about you. You are my guest and I would be a horrible host if I didn’t care about your wellbeing.”

You knew he said it to make you feel better- to make sure that you knew that you could trust him. And you did. You trusted Stephen. But not with your feelings. You weren’t even sure what those feelings were. 

Were you just excited that you made a new friend and mistook that excitement for romantic attraction? He gave you his attention, but this was what people did when they wanted to be friends with someone. Strange smiled at you once and you were convinced you developed a crush on him. It was pathetic how much you craved love that you were seeing it everywhere even if it wasn’t true.That was probably the reason your last relationship was a disaster. You went into it too quickly and then were surprised that it didn’t work out. You needed more time to think about it- your feelings for Stephen. He was a good friend and you would hate to lose that.

“I really appreciate it, Stephen.” You said with a genuine smile on your face. There was still some uncertainty in your eyes. “I think I’m just a little tired. I tend to overwork myself sometimes.”

“That makes the two of us then.” He smirked and pulled out another cookie. Stephen handed you the jar and you moved closer to him, decreasing the gap between your bodies. “I saw that you have just one book left to translate.” 

“Yeah-” You sighed a bit too loud, ignoring the sorcerer’s gaze. “Wong said he would bind them all so I will probably be gone by the end of the next week.” You said, feeling a weird squeeze in your chest. You didn’t know why you felt like that. You leaving wouldn’t be the end of the world! You would still keep in touch with Wong- you have for all those years. So why was it affecting you so much this time?

Stephen stood up, clearing his throat quietly. The man stood up, leaving the cookie jar on your blanket and wiped his hands clean on his pyjama pants.

“You are welcome to stay longer if you want.” The doctor announced and slowly made his way to the door. “Wong and I- we love having you around. I wanted you to know that.”

Stephen left, letting you be alone with your thoughts.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

“Do you really want to go back to your old job though?” Wong asked, taking a sip of his morning tea. You liked to talk about many things with him, especially in the morning while you prepared breakfast. But the topic of your old job was making you nervous. It wasn’t really about the job itself- you liked what you were doing. The issue was people- or rather a person- who was still working there. It’s been almost a year since you left and your side gigs couldn’t pay all of your bills. You were happy when Wong called you and asked if you could come by to help translate some stuff, but you were here almost two months and felt like you should leave soon. You wouldn’t have to figure out your feelings for Stepehn if he wasn’t around. 

“I have to make money somehow.” You flipped a pancake and put on a fake smile. 

“You could find something here in New York. And you wouldn’t have to worry about rent since you’d be living here.” Your friend proposed.

It wasn’t a bad idea- now that you think of it it was an excellent idea. You really couldn’t argue with that.

“I will think about it.” 

“That’s all you’ve been doing lately.”

Why was it so hard for you to open up to Wong now? You never had a problem with that before. Taking a deep breath you decided to rip the bandaid off.

“I think I have feelings for Stephen.” You breathed out, looking at your dear friend and waiting for his response. All you got was a hysterical laugh.

“That’s a good one!” Wong said, slapping his knee repeatedly. “Oh dear, I love your jokes.” 

But you didn’t laugh. 

“No- you’re-” the librarian lowered his tone, almost whispering. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

That was a good question. Were you sure?

“I don’t know.” A tear rolled down your face- you didn’t even know why you were so emotional about it. You didn’t even know for sure and you were making such a scene. Putting your face in your hands you shook your head and cried. “I don’t know, Wong!”

You were trembling and breathing heavily in your friend’s arms and didn’t even notice that you were walking somewhere- the librarian guiding you. You couldn’t see well because of the tears, but you recognised the outline of your room. Your knees hit something soft and if Wong didn’t turn you around you would flop on the bed face first. 

It took you half an hour to calm down.

You missed breakfast that day, too.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Taking a deep breath you put your sweater on and exit the library. You tried to do something productive, but nothing was going your way today. First the fiasco in the kitchen, then you isolating for the rest of your day and now sneaking out to the library when everyone else was asleep. What was going on with you? 

Your stomach spoke, demanding food. You weren’t surprised- you haven’t eaten anything at all. And you really should do that. You can’t keep destroying yourself because of one tiny inconvenience.  

Your bare feet walked through the wooden floors leading to the small kitchen you love so much. 

“Midnight snack?” Someone spoke, making you jump and bump your leg into a chair. “I’m so sorry.” The familiar voice apologised, gently putting a hand on your shoulder to see if everything was alright. “I thought you saw me.”

“It’s fine.” You shrugged it off, massaging your knee to ease the pain a little. “I wasn’t paying attention.” You straightened your back and realised how close to you Stephen was.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Would you like some tea? I was gonna make myself a cup.” The sorcerer proposed, taking a step back and giving you space. 

Playing with the sleeves of our sweater you jumped on the counter- your favourite place to sit- and nodded. “I would kill for a cup of tea right now.”

“No killing will be necessary. I will do it willingly.” Stephen smirked, taking two ceramic mugs out of the upper cupboard. You noticed that one of them was your favourite mug- you used it literally every day and Stephen was a very observant person so it shouldn’t be surprising that he knew what you used to drink and from where. “The usual?” He asked, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder like a bartender, making you giggle.

“Make it double.” You said, playing along. 

“So what brings you here at this hour?” The doctor asked, pouring the hot water into your mugs and then putting the tea inside. 

“I wanted to get some work done, but I couldn’t focus.” You explained. Your friend handed you your tea and you thanked him with a shy smile.

“Wong said you had a really bad anxiety attack this morning-” the man hopped on the counter right next to you, his baby blues looking at you with some kind of softness you haven’t  seen in him before. “-and I know you probably don’t want to talk about it which is fine-” he spoke, not really knowing where he was going with it. He wanted to make you feel better, but Stephen wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions. He was going to try though. For you. “-but i want you to know that you can trust me and I can find you some professional help if you need it. I know a few people who would be able to help.” 

“I don’t-” you tried to defend yourself, but your voice shook. “I’m not crazy. I don’t need it!”

“Where is this coming from?” The doctor asked, confused . “Therapy can be for everyone no matter what and there’s nothing wrong with getting help.” He turned to you to get a better look at your face. He looked surprised by your little outburst, but he knew there was more to the story.

“You think so?” Suddenly you felt small. You have been to therapy before, but your ex wasn’t really supportive of that. You were called a variety of names. You were shamed and gaslighted into believing that you seeking help was a sign of weakness. That’s why you stopped going. You stopped taking your meds. And when you hit the rock bottom your partner decided that you weren’t worth all the trouble and left. You were scared of asking for help again- it was a weird fear, but it just wouldn’t let go of you. 

“I know it.” Stephen’s gentle voice made you tear up a bit. “I’m no psychologist, but I have contacts. If you want I can accompany you to the first session. Or Wong.” He put your arm around you, drawing random shapes on your shoulder in a soothing motion. 

You gave in and embraced him, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing quietly. 

“Thank you, Stephen.” You whispered and felt his hold on you tightening. 

“Did anyone ever tell you that it was wrong to go to therapy?” The doctor asked in a hushed voice. He didn’t break the hug.

“You could say that.” You sniffled, face still hiding in his chest. You were sure there was already a wet spot from all your tears on his shirt. “An ex of mine had very strong opinions about me taking meds and going to therapy.”

“What a dick.” Stephen huffed, anger radiated from him. If he ever met that person he would send them to some crazy dimensions to fuck with their mind. “They didn’t deserve you.”

“There’s a reason this person is an ex.” You smiled sadly and took a deep breath. “Wong had already kicked that asshole’s butt so don’t worry.” You giggled at the memory. Violence was never the answer, but in that case it was really appreciated. “But ever since then I was kinda scared of reaching out, you know?” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Your friend’s hand wandered from your shoulder up to your hair and gently massaged your scalp, making you melt in his arms. “I will make some calls first thing in the morning. You should see someone as soon as possible. Especially if you need medication.” He said. You could hear the determination in his voice. Stephen was nothing like your last partner. He really cared. He supported you and wanted the best for you. And even if there could never be anything more than friendship between you you would still be happy to have him in your life. “When was the last time you took your meds.” 

"I'm embarrassed to say." You straightened your back and let your hands fall from Stephen's neck. He was still holding you, knowing you still needed some comfort. 

"You don't have to tell me, but please mention it to your therapist, okay?" The sorcerer gave your shoulder a light pat and hopped off the counter. "Our tea is getting cold." You smiled and followed your friend to sit at the table. You saw him taking a sip from his tea and cringe. "The bags were in the water for too long. It's really bitter." 

You sighed, putting the mugs in the sink. It was probably a sign that you should go back to your room.

"There's a place 3 blocks away with great Thai food." Strange looked at you with a silent question. You couldn't say no to food, but you weren't sure if it was a good idea to go out so late. "They also have great tea and I know for a fact that they are still open." He sensed your hesitation, but refused to leave you alone in your room with your thoughts. You had to get away from here- even if it was just for a few minutes. "I'm paying."

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Walking side by side with Stephen, your arms in your pockets to shield them from the cold midnight air, you looked around to see plenty of people doing all kinds of stuff. New York truly never slept. It was a part of its charm.

The doctor offered you his arm when a group of tourists passed through the crowd, almost pulling you in with them. You liked big cities, but you absolutely hated the crowds. You hooked your hand in the place between Stephen's arm and his elbow, holding it tightly. It didn’t take long for you to get to the restaurant Stephen told you about. You visited many places like this with the boys when neither of you wanted to cook anything, but this building wasn’t familiar to you. 

Stephen opened the door for you like the gentleman he was and as you stepped inside you were hit with a variety of smells. Your stomach reminded you of its existence once more and you were sure everyone in the room could hear it. 

Your friend waved his hand at the older lady behind the counter with a smile on his face. He gestured at the small table in the corner- hidden from everyone’s eyes- and took your jacket. Taking two menus from the wooden napkin holder in the middle of your table, Stephen handed you one, his cold fingers leaving a feather-like sensation on your palm.

“Their green curry is delicious.” The sorcerer said, turning his menu around and pointing at the picture on top. 

“I will have to take your word for that, Doctor.” You smirked actually feeling some happiness in you after the entire day of sleeping in your depression cave you called the bedroom. 

“What tea would you like?” He asked, tapping a finger on his knee to the beat of the song playing from the radio. Your eyes scanned the pages of the little book in your hands. Stephen was watching you while you tried to make a choice. You looked adorable with your hair a bit messy from the wind, biting your lip deep in thought. The sorcerer smiled- you couldn’t see it, but the look he gave you was full of adoration. 

“I think I will get the Thai Ice Tea.” You announced, putting your menu aside. Turning your head to face Stephen you noticed that he was staring and immediately became self conscious. “Do I have something on my face?”

“What? No it’s just-” The doctor straightened his back, blushing. The awkward pause between you was interrupted by the waitress who appeared at your table.

“Stephen! It’s so good to see you here, honey.” The older woman you saw earlier behind the counter pinched the man’s cheek in an affectionate manner. The sorcerer groaned, but couldn’t hide the smile on his face. “What can I get you today, sweetie?”

“It’s good to see you too, Malee. You look beautiful as ever.” The doctor leaned back in his chair and put on his charming smile. “Did you get a haircut?” 

“Oh, I did!” the woman giggled, taking a pen out of her pocket. “But the flattery won’t give you a discount.”

“It was worth a try.” The sorcerer shrugged. You watched this exchange with a huge grin. You were enjoying their little interaction. It was kinda sweet. “We would like two plates of green curry and  two ice teas.”

Malee quickly  wrote down your order and put the pen back into the pocket of her jeans. “I will bring you your drinks right away.” She said, tugging her long grey hair behind her ear.

“I will go get them, just tell me when they’re done!” Stephen called as the woman walked through the door leading to the kitchen. “She has really weak hands, she shouldn’t carry anything heavy.” Your friend explained, turning back to you. 

“She’s a lovely lady.” You mentioned, trying to change the subject. You wanted to keep a steady conversation, fearing that if you fell silent your thoughts would spiral in the wrong direction again.  “Very lively.”

“She is just the sweetest.” The doctor’s smile made the wrinkles under his eyes stand out. He looked good like that. “Wong and I come here very often when we pull all-nighters.”

“I can see why.” You looked around, your eyes scanning the art on the walls and the curtains that matched the floor. “It’s very cosy here.”

You didn’t realise it, but you were swaying to the music playing through the speakers. You were enjoying the moment of peace and Stephen’s presence helped with that a lot. You also didn’t notice when the sorcerer stood up to get your tea. He put the glasses on the table and gave you a smile. A teenage boy walked behind him with a tray of your food. And oh, you were so excited to finally eat something after a long day. You were all set when Melee came up to you with a little candle and matches. She put it in the middle of the table, surprising both you and Stephen. 

“Enjoy your date.” She winked at you and left, leaving both of you out of words.

“I just want to clarify that I didn’t intend for it to be a date.” Stephen said, awkwardly scratching his neck. 

“Oh, yeah. I-” You didn’t want to let it show, but you were a little hurt by his response.

“It’s just- you had a really rough night and I-I wanted to provide some comfort.” The sorcerer explained, stumbling over his own words.

“I understand, Stephen. It’s really okay.” You took a sip of your tea- the flavours melting on your tongue made your stomach calm down a bit. You were fighting back your tears- you didn’t want to ruin the night even more.

“And besides, a restaurant seems a little cliche for a date.”  The doctor cleared his throat and took a fork in his  right hand. “If I was to ask you out on a date it would be something special.” He mumbled, but you heard him perfectly clear. “If you agreed, of course.”

“Really?” You asked- your voice still felt weak, but there was a bit of hope behind your eyes. “You would ask me on a date if you knew I would say yes?”

“I would ask you regardless of your answer and handle rejection like a big boy.” He said in a joking tone, but you knew he meant that. “But the timing doesn’t seem right right now, does it?” He smiled sadly at you and got busy with his food.

“What do you mean by that?” You asked, trying to decipher the meaning of Stephen’s words.

“I mean-” Your friend took a deep breath, looking you deep in the eyes. “You are still working for me. You are also living in a place where I’m technically the boss. I’m about to help you find a therapist.” Stephen explained. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree to go on a date with me just because you feel like you should.”

You were taken aback by this answer- not in a bad way. It showed that Stephen really cared about you. You never felt like you owed him anything, but he took your valuable state of mind  into consideration which made you feel really appreciated. He wanted to make sure that you would feel comfortable in this relationship- that you wouldn’t feel trapped and obligated to being with him. 

“I really appreciate that, Stephen.” You smiled, taking a spoonful of rice. “I wouldn’t say no if you asked me- not because I live under your roof. You are a great man and anyone would be lucky to have you.” A familiar warmth creeped up your face. It made you feel like a middle school child having their very first crush. 

Stephen’s eyes shyly wandered around the room. Your words made his heart beat faster. He had to run the conversation in his head twice to make sure you really just said what he thought you said. The sorcerer wasn’t the best at showing his feelings- especially romantic ones- but with you it seemed to be much easier. 

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see where it gets us.” Strange replied, looking at you one more time. You locked eyes and smiled.

And for the first time in ages you didn’t worry about the future.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

“How was your session today?” Wong greeted you with a hug and a cup of fresh tea as you entered the kitchen. The smell of cheese hit your nostrils, making you salivate. Home sweet home. 

“It was pretty good.” You said, taking a sip of your hot beverage.”I will probably get new meds soon.”

“That’s fantastic!” The librarian cheered. 

Ever since Stephen helped you start therapy again you became more alive. You didn’t realise how much stuff affected your mental health until now. You’ve been going to that Doctor for 3 months now and you couldn’t believe how much changed in such a short amount of time. You were going easy on yourself- you were slowly unlearning your old self destructive behaviours like working 24/7 without a break or bottling up your emotions. Wong was very supportive and helped in any way he could. In some way your therapy helped him relax a bit. He promised to take you on a hike every weekend- something you loved doing when you were younger- and he didn’t say it often, but he loved that, too. It was your quality time with Wong. Even if he had a ton of work to do he always made sure to finish before the weekend, not wanting to miss that time with you.

And then there was Stephen. You’ve been in New York for almost 6 months now and Stephen was nothing but kind to you. Your relationship progressed very quickly and the two of you became best friends in no time. Of course there was still the question of your feelings, but you both agreed to give it time. But with every passing day you fell more and more for him. Little did you know that the sorcerer supreme felt the same way. He was still shy around you at times, but you always made sure you were both comfortable no matter what you were doing. You spent plenty of time together from practising spells to watching movies. You cherished all these moments. 

You finished translating the last book a few weeks ago- Stephen and Wong insisted that you take a break and focus on your health. Work could always wait. The librarian convinced you to let him bind those books by himself so that you could have more free time. Those guys were the best thing that had ever happened to you.

“Is that lasagna I smell?” The doctor walked into the kitchen through a portal and took a seat right next to you.

“It is!” Wong said, proudly as he took the dish out of the oven and put it on the table. “Did you bring the wine?” He asked, looking around in hope to find a bottle. 

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.” Stephen said, setting the table for the three of you. “I can go get it. There’s a few more bottles in the basement.” 

“No, it’s fine. I will get them.” The librarian said and walked out of the room. He used it as an excuse to leave you and Stephe alone but you didn’t have to know that.

“I heard your session went well today.” The sorcerer spoke, sitting down on his chair.

“It really did.” You smiled, following his lead. 

“What are your plans for today?” Your friend asked, wanting to make some small talk before executing his little plan and asking you out. This time officially.

“Oh, I think I have a date.” You said with a sprinkle of uncertainty in your voice.

Stephen was stunned by your answer- a little bit hurt, too. It wasn’t like you had swore to go on a date with him, but the things were going so well between you the doctor assumed you felt the same. Apparently that wasn’t the case and Stephen respected your decision.

“Oh, a date?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if he agrees though. He’s kinda busy with sorcery stuff and all that.” You bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling.

Stephen exhaled in relief, with a smirk on his face.

“I’m sure he will find some time for you.” He announced, playing along. “He already cleared out his schedule for you.”

You giggled like a little kid, taking Stephen’s hand in yours and placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “It’s a date then, doctor.”

“I believe it is.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Stephen Strange Tag List: @gaitwae @funsized-mimi @queenjosielaufeyson @mischiefmanaged71 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @thatasgardianprince

[esmealux]

Hi there! For the two-part drabble, may I request Deckerstar in situation 13 (someone does something stupid) with sentence 6 ("Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.") Thank you, and I've really really been enjoying your the updates on your Planning a Hell of a Wedding fic!

Hey! It took me two months (including more than one month of writing) but I've now finally finished your prompt. Another anon had requested 25 (being somewhere you're not supposed to) + 6 and dear @my-crazy-awesome-sox had requested 26 (a very cheesy date) + 6, so I've merged all your prompts into one 7K+ long 'drabble'. Hope you don't mind!

And I'm glad you like the updates on PHW! I'll try to write some more now that I've finished this.

Hope you like this!

Also, an immense special thanks to @my-crazy-awesome-sox for helping me with this fic. She truly has been a godsend, and a lot of the wording (especially in the later parts) is kindly and almost directly borrowed from her mind. Thank you again, babe!

Also thanks to @lightbringer-666 for assisting me with some French. If all the French isn't perfect, it's because I also googled my way to a lot of it. Apologies in advance (and please do let me know if there's anything I should change!)

Someone does something stupid + being somehwere you're not supposed to + a very cheesy date + 'Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.'

Rated M. Post 5B - contains spoilers!

Read on AO3 (includes list with English translations)

It’s ridiculous, really. The butterflies fluttering in her stomach like she’s a schoolgirl waiting for her prom date. It’s not even their first date. It’s not even their second. The thing is, between becoming God and Consultant, revising a few laws of the cosmos, fixing some bugs in humanity, bringing Dan to Heaven, and going to therapy, she and Lucifer haven’t had much time for, well, each other. At least not in ways that didn’t involve discussions about the redesign of the afterworld and how to sate world hunger. So yes, she is a little giddy with excitement at the thought of having a whole evening to themselves—no celestial craziness. Just the two of them and a bottle of the restaurant’s finest.

If Lucifer would just show up.

She checks her phone. 06:14. Unlike last time she anxiously waited for him in a restaurant, there’s a text.

Running a bit late. Please forgive me. Can’t wait to see you ❤

And one more.

Sorry. Can’t wait to see you naked*

Chloe shakes her head, a stupid smile spreading across her face. She resists typing back a flirty reply—he’ll be with her in a minute, and she is nota schoolgirl—and puts her phone back in her clutch. Hands trembling a little, she smooths out invisible creases in the dress he’s bought her. It’s short and tight, of course, but perfectly so. Reaching mid-thigh, with a small slit revealing a bit more of her left thigh. Black, unsurprisingly; he still hasn’t gotten over how delectable she looked in the LBD she wore on their last ‘date’. And this one makes her legs look even longer, which is undoubtedly the primary reason Lucifer picked it. Still, it isn’t skimpy. He could have opted for a deep neckline and cold shoulders—she almost expected him to when he said he’d bought her a dress—but he didn’t. Instead, the short and skin-tight skirt is perfectly balanced with a high neck and long bell sleeves that are cut open just above her joints, making the soft fabric flow around her bare underarms. She likes it—would probably have bought it herself if it weren’t crazy expensive. Likes how it makes her feel both sexy and classy and most of all comfortable, likes that he knows her so well.

She fidgets with her earring and traces the rim of her empty wine glass with her fingertip, watching people as much as she can from their semi-private corner. She spots an Oscar-winning film director, a retired NFL player, that pop star Lucifer pretends to hate, and just how expensive isthis place?

She’s immediately distracted by the shift in the air and the sound of Italian loafers approaching her.

‘My me, Detective!’

His brown eyes roam her figure as she stands to kiss him. Their lips meet in a soft peck that could easily have turned into more if Lucifer hadn’t pulled away to look her up and down.

‘You look like a goddess.’

Chloe snorts and chuckles, not yet used to the title he insists is hers if she’ll have it. She puts a hand on his chest, gazing up at him with a smile.

‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’

He hums and leans in for another kiss, but something comes between them this time. They both look down—at a dozen red roses.

‘Those for me?’ she asks, warmth spreading in her chest.

Lucifer hands her the bouquet with a nod and that soft smile she loves more than anything. He pulls out her chair, a gentle hand on her shoulder as she sits down, and sits down himself.

There’s a card nestled between the velvet petals: ‘For the Detective & Consultant’, her old and new moniker scribbled side by side in his annoyingly elegant handwriting. The latter nickname, however, is written in smaller, cramped letters—an afterthought. She smiles.

She turns the card, expecting to find a dirty, eye-roll-deserving comment on the back. But there’s no lewd joke or naughty promise.

It simply says, ‘I love you.’

Her heart swells, filling her chest till it aches. It’s all so new still. Not the love between them, but how it’s uninhibited now. It’s not like they don’t have their obstacles—just yesterday they had a fight—but there’s no doubt anymore, no voices telling them some dreams simply cannot be. They might have a whole universe to deal with, but for the first time ever, things between them are easy. No words are left unsaid. No feelings are squashed. No time is wasted. Every day is spent wrapped in each other’s love. Finally.

‘I love you too,’ she tells him, and he lights up, amazed. Confident. Their hands find each other on the table, fingers intertwining.

A waiter comes by with two menu cards and a vase for the flowers. Chloe reads through the menu carefully, pretending to know what kind of food hides behind the fancy French names. Lucifer sees right through her, sighs, and orders some hors d’œuvres, two of something she couldn’t pronounce if she tried, and a bottle of red.

‘So, were you stuck in traffic, or…?’ Chloe asks him with a glint in her eye as the waiter pours her a generous glass of wine. The celestial being with the supernatural metabolism can drive home.

The being in question looks confused for a moment before he answers, ‘Ah, no. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ For a brief second, he looks at her as if he’s apologising for more than tonight, but she strokes his knuckles and smiles at him, you’re here now, and he moves on to explain himself. ‘I just couldn’t find this bloody suit. Only when I’d ransacked the house did I realise it was still at the penthouse, so I had to make a detour.’

He is a little excused; so many things are impossible to find right now, with more or less unpacked boxes spread out between her apartment, Lux, and their new home. In hindsight, moving in together while taking over the almighty family business probably wasn’t the best idea, but they’ll get settled soon enough. Besides, right now, what’s important is that Lucifer was late because of a wardrobe crisis, and she will not let that slide.

‘You couldn’t just wear one of your three hundred other suits?’

A flicker of hurt and sheepishness flashes across Lucifer’s face.

‘Well, this one is special.’

Chloe takes in his suit: the navy jacket, the matching waistcoat, the royal blue shirt.

‘Oh.’

He smirks at her as heat creeps up her cheeks (so much for not being a schoolgirl).

‘You remember?’

She does. Of course, she does. She remembers vividly—how shocked he’d been at first, how new and soft his lips had felt against hers. How they’d held onto each other until the sun was setting and she really did have to go home and feed Maze and Trixie.

She also remembers how she, later, behind closed lids, had ripped off the shirt and waistcoat in desperate need. How it’d earned her a husky chuckle and a breathy ‘D’tective!’, and the sinful Heaven that was his hot and open mouth.

‘You okay, darling?’ Lucifer looks at her, his expression somewhere between concerned and amused. His thumb brushes the back of her hand.

Chloe takes a sip of wine and clears her throat. Adjusts her necklace.

‘Yeah, just, you know. Reminiscing.’

He studies her flushed face for a second before his curious smile spreads into a full-blown Cheshire grin.

‘You had a wet dream about me, didn’t you?! After our first kiss?’

Chloe glares at him. ‘Say it a little louder for the people in the back, will ya?’ He opens his mouth, and she immediately feels the need to clarify, ‘Do not say it a little louder for the people in the back.’

His smile doesn’t falter. ‘I’m just ecstatic to know our first kiss left you all hot and bothered. I mean, not that I’m surprised.’ He brings his wine glass to his lips and lets go of her hand to gesture down himself.

Chloe rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, like you didn’t go home and wanked yourself blind that night.’

He laughs, surprised by her bluntness, and shamelessly answers, ‘Why, of course I did. That night, other nights. Before and after that kiss. This morning. You serve as quite the spank bank, my dear.’

She definitely doesn’t blush at that. But she does glance down at his waistcoat, at the soft skin and hard muscles she knows hide beneath it. She gives him a slow and dirty smirk, appreciative.

‘You too, baby.’

Lucifer raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening. Much to Chloe’s satisfaction, his neck and cheeks redden a little. Then he gives her a lopsided grin, smug and impressed.

‘Pray tell, Detective.’ His eyes glide down her face, her chest, her stomach, and slowly back up again.

In another time, she would have given him a stern look and told him it was none of his business, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t tell him about lonely nights and long showers and crying his name into her pillow when they were still just friends. Instead, she leans across the table and half-whispers—

‘If you behave yourself tonight, I might show you.’

He gulps. Squirms a little in his seat, and—when he’s regained his composure and quite indiscreetly adjusted himself under the table—leans forward till there’s only mere inches between their faces.

‘Is that a promise?’ His voice is low and husky, his breath hot against her face. His eyes drop to her lips.

‘Pardon, monsieur, mais l’entrée est prête.’

They lean back in their seats and turn to the poor, young waiter, who’s balancing two seemingly heavy plates, a carafe of water, and a basket of crusty bread in his arms.

‘Lovely!’ Lucifer’s eyes follow the food as the waiter puts it down in front of them. ‘Merci beaucoup, Olivier.’

Olivier smiles at Lucifer, shy but with a look in his eyes Chloe knows all too well. She doesn’t blame him.

‘Ça va?’ Lucifer asks, his voice lined with genuine fondness.

Olivier nods. ‘Oui, ça va. Et toi?’

Lucifer looks to Chloe, beaming. He takes her hand on the table and interlocks their fingers again.

‘Tout va très bien,’ he answers, looking back up at Olivier with a dazzling smile.

Olivier’s eyes drop to their hands and, probably, to the ring, white and pearlescent, on Chloe’s third finger. His lips tug up at the corner.

‘Je peux voir ça. Félicitations!’ Before Lucifer can respond to that, whatever it means, Olivier gestures towards their food. ‘Et bon appétit.’

Lucifer replies with a friendly ‘merci’ and calls out something like ‘Salue ton père de ma part!’ as Olivier walks off.

Chloe stares at Lucifer, twirling the smashed bullet around her neck between her fingers.

‘What?’ he asks, curious.

She tilts her head, smiling. ‘French suits you.’

He smiles back, lasciviously. ‘Yeah?’

‘Mm-hm.’

The look he gives her leaves no doubt that, sooner or later, he’ll be whispering foreign phrases against her skin.

But right now, they have other appetites to sate. They dig into the first course, and the (assumedly) insanely high prices suddenly make sense, because it is frigging good. The main course is even more delicious—divine, actually, to the point where Chloe has to ask Lucifer if he accidentally spiked the food with a blessing or two. He assures her it’s all Olivier’s father, no holiness involved, apart from Chef Beaumont’s heavenly cœeur de filet de bœuf. Chloe moans in agreement, savouring every bite.

He watches her with a smile, jokingly apologising for not serving her grilled cheese, and she makes a bad joke about this date being cheesy enough as it is. Because it is cheesy. Him buying her a dress, bringing her red roses, the love note, the candlelit restaurant, the French food, not to mention the suit. It’s like a rom-com parody.

But it’s also perfect. It’s everything she’s longed for, an over-the-top romantic date night with her- with her partner. A date that isn’t cut short by a horny stewardess (may she rest in peace) or a failed attempt at exorcism; where Lucifer actually shows up and isn’t just trying to outdo another man; where Chloe isn’t trying to make him ‘do something good for a change’; and their parents aren’t tagging along on a headache-inducing surprise double date that is also a sting in disguise.

So, in some ways, it is kinda their first date.

And it’s a really, really nice date.

They laugh—they laugh so much. More than they’ve done in the past few months combined. Or so it feels, at least.

They laugh, and they talk. About movies they cried to, favourite drinks, and how they’re gonna paint the living room. About the summers spent under the plum tree in Nana’s garden, and all the pranks pulled in the gilded meadows of Heaven. About chasing Amenadiel through the clouds, and how Chloe always wanted a sibling. About her short-lived Hollywood experience and that one time she may have gotten a little high at a Backstreet Boys concert. (He seems impressed by that, her ‘abhorrent’ taste in music aside.) They exchange secrets they never told anyone, stories of bad kisses—Jed used too much tongue; Will was always better with words—and tales from drunken nights out. They reminisce on the first time they met—how annoying she’d found him, how compelling he’d found her—and the many, many cases, some really weird, that first encounter led to.

They talk about Dan.

About missing him, even though he’s making waffles with Charlotte now.

About Trixie, and how therapy seems to be helping her, too. How she still sometimes breaks down crying, but no longer crawls into their bed in the middle of the night, shaking and gasping for air. How she’d laughed the other day, and it’d made them both cry. How incredibly strong she is, that little urchin.

They talk about going to Paris one day, all three of them—the French do make excellent chocolate cakes—or maybe somewhere else she wants to see, once everything is calmer. They talk about some of the prayers Lucifer has been hearing, about faith and free will, what they miss about solving crimes together, what they don’t miss, and how they’re still very much partners, even more so now—in every corner of life.

They talk till their cheeks hurt from smiling and Chloe’s half-drunk on expensive Burgundy. Lucifer asks for the cheque, their food long gone, and pays with cash, making sure to leave a tip possibly the size of Olivier’s monthly salary.

They leave the restaurant giggling about a stupid joke Lucifer makes, his hand splayed out on the small of her back. Her own hand is placed much lower than what is decent for such a fancy place like this, practically cupping his ass, but she’s tipsy enough not to care, and he doesn’t seem to mind the attention. It’s his own fault, anyway, for having his pants tailored to hug his butt like this.

Naturally, Lucifer drives. He doesn’t hold back his comments on how slow and boring her car is, but at least he stays somewhere close to the speed limit. She wishes he’d also wear a seatbelt, and keep both hands on the wheel, but his palm is nice and warm on her thigh, and she trusts he’ll get them home safely. She leans back in her seat, her head comfortably buzzing from wine and him, and watches the blurry city lights through the window. He’s turned down 2ndStreet.

‘Where are we going?’ She looks over at him, curious.

He smiles in the shadows, his fingers stroking the skin left exposed by the slit in her dress. His touch leaves hot, tingling paths on her thigh.

‘I thought we’d go for a second desert.’

Chloe is beyond full, her dress stretched over her now slightly rounder belly, and she can think of other things she’d rather do (things that include pinning Lucifer to their bed and making him groan and beg and laugh), but she’ll never say no to a freshly brewed latte and watching Lucifer obscenely enjoy some Sicilian pastry.

She turns up the radio, fumbling a bit, and closes her eyes with a smile, more content than she’s been in… a long time. His hand stays on her thigh as they move through the night, fingers tapping to the beat of the songs against her skin, creeping higher, teasing, just enough to make her breath hitch, but nothing more, and then back down again. Maybe they’ll just take that latte to-go.

The car comes to a final halt, and first then does Chloe realise they haven’t stopped outside the late-night café and bakery that’s opened down on Spring Street.

‘Lucifer, what’—she looks around, double-checking—‘what are we doing at the back entrance to the precinct? You said we were getting desert.’

He leans across the centre console, fingers spreading on her thigh, and brings their faces so close their noses touch. Chloe swallows.

‘We are,’ he assures her with a wolfish grin, his gaze lingering hungrily on her, and she could jump him right then and there. But he takes his hand off her body and clicks her seatbelt free, pulls the key out of the ignition and exits the car. He strides to her side and opens the door for her, gentlemanly as ever, and she watches him with narrowed eyes as she takes his hand and steps out, sceptical even in her cloud of lust and inebriation.

He heads directly for the back entrance and opens the black iron door with ease, rudely ignoring the state-of-the-art security locks. A part of her knows she should stop him right there and give him a stern talking-to about respecting human laws—he still can’t do whatever the hell he likes just because he’s God now. But another part, the part of her who helped him empty two bottles of French wine, really wants to step over that threshold, to intertwine their fingers and go on a late-night adventure. And that part of her must overpower the other, because she lets him snake his arm around her waist and lead her through the door and inside the familiar building.

She senses him grinning by her side, his fingers curling around her hip in a deliciously tight grip that only stokes the heat pooling low in her belly. He takes her down the corridor, around the corner, and then they’re there, in the middle of the precinct. Everything is covered in darkness, the wide, open space only illuminated by a never-resting info screen and the purplish glow from the vending machine. Still, she can make out the shape of their desk, the door to Ella’s lab, the interrogation room. The fridge in the breakroom still hums obnoxiously, and the air smells like strong coffee and sugary glaze—or maybe that’s just a phantom. Either way, it all tugs at her heart, beckons her down memory lane, and she lets herself be pulled. Through the good, the bad, and the crazy.

Lucifer is quiet beside her, probably lost in nostalgia himself, or maybe just letting her have this moment. But not for long. With titillating eagerness and a devilish smirk, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her by the hand—towards the evidence closet.

He presses her up against the door, his body hot and hard against hers, and pins her hand against the cold glass of the frosted window. His dark eyes sparkle with mischievous excitement.

‘There’s something we never got to try.’

Her pulse quickens, blood humming loud and hot.

‘Lucifer, we can’t.’ She tries to sound firm around her suddenly heavy breaths and dry throat, but he doesn’t seem discouraged in the least.

He leans in, closer, his smirking lips brush against her ear. ‘Can’t we, now?’

And as if he hadn’t done enough already, he takes her earlobe between his teeth and bites it.

Chloe smothers a gasp.

‘We shouldn’t.’ She puts her hand on his chest and pushes her head against his, nudging him away from her neck so she can thinkfor a second. He reluctantly obeys and settles for placing his hands on her sides, dangerously high, thumbs almost stroking the underside of her breasts. She pushes his hands down to her waist. ‘We shouldn’t have sex in Evidence—shouldn’t have broken into the precinct in the first place. I mean, do you want us to get arrested?’

He only laughs at that, of course. ‘I’m God, darling. I won’t get arrested.’

Chloe rolls her eyes. He would probably charm his way out of it if they were caught, God or not—but that doesn’t make any of this okay. She’s about to tell him as much when he adds-

‘But if you wanted to cuff me and tell me what to do, resisting would be the last thing on my mind. In fact, I’m sure we can find some cuffs lying about-’

‘Lucifer, no.’

Her tone is sharper than she’d intended. He pulls back a little, studying her face. His eyes flicker to her parted lips, her flushed, heaving chest, and then back to her determined gaze. His brows furrow.

‘Do you really not want to do this?’ His voice is soft, serious.

They stare at each other, hot breaths mingling. He’s still pressed up against her, a six-foot-three wall of muscle and love, and his scent—spicy cologne and smoke—floods her head like ambrosia, a dizzying fog of him. Her skin burns beneath his palms, his touch sending embers through the expensive fabric and down, flames licking at her inner thighs. Her heartbeat thumps in her ears.

‘We don’t even work here anymore,’ she rasps, deflecting his question. It’s a weak excuse, but she is fraying at the edges.

A salacious smile forms on Lucifer’s face. ‘We’ll just pretend we do.’

He takes a step back, putting a more ‘professional’ distance between them, adjusts his lapels and attempts at a neutral expression. ‘You wanted to show me something in Evidence, Detective?’

And there’s that word again, want—because she still hasn’t answered his question and her consent means more to him than anything. She loves him for that, she really does, but right now, it’s not that simple. She wants, every cell in her body wants, wants him to shove her into that closet and take her apart. Has wanted it for so long, thought about it for years—at her desk, in the shower, while sitting next to him during interrogations. Thought about it in the self-same evidence closet, as she was pressed up against the wall by someone else. Imagined tugging at his hair, feeling him between her legs—even had to swallow his name. She still thinks about it, thought about it the other night, briefly, wistfully, while making a cup of tea. Thought about how much fun they could have had, sneaking off to secret corners of the precinct like two horny teenagers—if it hadn’t been for, well, mostly Michael, and all the chaos he’d released upon their lives.

In fact, it’s only fair they have at least one reckless, semi-public rendezvous. Just one. To make up for the honeymoon phase they never really had. With all the hurt and heartbreak they’ve had to go through, alone and together, they deserve to have one night of stupid fun.

On the other hand, and this is why it’s not that simple, it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. And also, pretty illegal. If she asked him to, if she said no now, he would take her home and push her up against the nearest surface, bury himself in her faster than any of them could get their clothes off, bring her to ecstasy-

But it’s not the same. It just isn’t.

With as much innocence she can muster, she looks up at his anticipatory face and puts her hand on the doorknob. The cold steel is a soothing balm against her burning skin.

‘I do want to show you something in Evidence.’

He lights up like it’s a declaration of love, all unrestrained enthusiasm.

‘After you, darling.’

Their lips crash against each other before the door is even closed. He pushes her backwards in the semi-darkness, between shelves and boxes, hands low on her hips. His fingers dig softly into her ass as they stumble towards a sliver of wall together, panting and laughing against each other’s mouths. He doesn’t break contact with her lips as he quickly sheds his jacket on the way and throws it over his shoulder, for the moment uncaring of dirt and creases. Then her back hits the wall with a thunk and she’s instantly struck by déjà vu, until Lucifer grabs her thigh inside the slit of her dress, and the unwelcome memory quickly evaporates in the heat of their clashing bodies as he wraps her bare leg around his waist and pins her to the wall with the hard press of his hips. Their unison groans fill the cramped space.

‘We shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs breathlessly against his lips before opening her mouth to let his tongue back in. He tastes like wine and crème brûlée.

He hums in disagreement. ‘We should always be here, Detective.’ With the hand still on her ass, he pushes their bodies impossibly closer together and rocks against her. She moans, despite herself.

‘We- I-‘ Chloe stammers, leaning her head back as he kisses his way down her neck, her mind and body pulling in different directions. ‘This is- why am I letting you get away with this?’

She feels him smirk against her throat. His hand slowly glides up her inner thigh—her pulse quickening with every inch—until his thumb brushes past damp fabric.

‘Because you like me.’ His beard rasps against her hot skin in the crook of her neck, a contrast to his soft lips placing slow, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw to her collar. ‘Because you love me.’

Chloe scoffs.

‘Do I love you?’ she questions, her breathing erratic, her eyes turned to the ceiling as he sucks a mark onto her neck. With the hand that is still between her legs, he pushes her underwear to the side and rubs against her, nice and slow. ‘Yes.’ Her gasped answer has a proud, almost victorious chuckle rumbling from his chest.

‘But do I like you?’—she bites her lip and stifles another moan as his fingers press just right—‘That’s still up for debate.’

He breaks off the assault on her neck and looks up at her, eyes black with desire.

‘Allow me to try and tip the scales, then.’

She’s bereaved of his fingers as his hand moves to the edge of her underwear, pulling it down as he sinks to his knees. She almost stumbles when he slips it over her feet, but he grabs her leg, steadying her, and helps her out of her stilettos. Once she’s barefoot, his warm palms slide up the side of her legs, pushes the hem of her dress up a few inches, and then his mouth is on her.

He licks her, slowly, tenderly. She reaches down to pull at his hair, commanding him to give her more, to take more, and he does. He starts feasting on her, all tongue and lips and-

‘God, yes.’

He chuckles smugly into her core. ‘I do love it when you moan my name, darling.’ Eyes fixed on hers, he gives her a nice, long lick before he dives back in. He kisses her clit, sucks it, circles it, laps at her like he can’t get enough, and she’s reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. She bucks against his face, needing more, and he does that thing that she likes, tongue flicking her clit, warm and wet, as he pushes a finger inside her.

Her eyes clench shut, her head falls back against the wall. She doesn’t bother holding back her groan this time.

Lucifer hums against her, low and greedy, taking as much as he can, before he pulls away with ragged breaths. ‘Ma déesse, que tu as bon gout.’

The meaning is forever lost on her, but his hungry tone, the way his tongue wraps smoothly around the French syllables, the words dripping like sin from his glistening lips, sends warm shivers down her spine.

He slows down his pace inside her, places kisses on her lower belly, seeks her ticklish spots and the ones that make her breath hitch, and then trails down to her hips, studying her sharp bone with his lips and his teeth, before moving down to her thigh, stubble prickling her tender skin. As if he’s got all the time in the world, he lets his mouth travel to the insides of her legs, already spread for him, and kisses a path up her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she aches with need,but never quite there. His finger, still moving slowly—too slowly—curls a bit, reaches that spot deep inside her that usually makes her see stars, but he pulls back before she’s even done gasping.

‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, a threat and a plea.

He places one last kiss to her sensitive thigh, nuzzles his nose against her heat, before his tongue finally finds her clit again and his finger starts pumping inside her, fast and hard. Then faster, harder, and, fuck, deeper.

‘Baby,’ she begs him to continue, fire spreading through her body, from her curling toes to her already heated cheeks.

He slows down for a second, and she reaches down to scratch at his scalp in frustration but quickly forgives him when he adds another finger and resumes his perfect pace, thrusting up in her to the beat of her racing heart.

‘Je veux te faire jouir.’ His thumb replaces his tongue as he looks up at her, eyes sparkling with lust and determination, but also patience. Like he could do this for hours, the whole night, as long as she falls apart around his tongue and fingers in the end.

He doesn’t need all night, though. She’s close, so close, can feel the beginning of that blissful high burning in her lower belly, between her thighs, where his mouth licks and nibbles and sucks. A building warmth pumping through her veins. She grabs at his hair, wraps her leg around his shoulder and pushes his face closer into her heat, needing that last-

‘Fuck, right there,’ she gasps. Right there right there right there.

He smirks against her, always eager to please, and does as she says. As she’s teetering on the edge, he curls both fingers inside her, goes impossibly deeper, and reaches the same spot as before, except this time, he doesn’t stop, and she comes with a shudder and a gasped ‘fuck!’ as he licks her through it.

‘Tu es tellement belle, ma chérie,’ he tells her, voice soft with awe as she comes down from her high and opens her eyes. She understands enough of the words to smile down at him, at his dishevelled hair, his swollen lips, and warm, chocolatey eyes.

‘You too, baby.’

She still hasn’t caught her breath when he, after wiping his mouth on her thigh, slowly rises from his feet and starts making his way up her body. His fingers skate lightly up her dress, his knuckles brushing against her rising and falling ribs as his hands sneak higher and higher, closer and closer. With a feather-light touch, he starts tracing the curves of her breasts, deliberately avoiding her aching nipples. He teases her with his fingers, kisses her neck, lips trailing, hot and slow, up to her jaw and the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.

‘J’ai envie de toi,’ he says into her ear, his voice rough with want and determination.

Chloe can’t take it anymore. She fists his waistcoast in one hand and grabs him by the hair with the other to pull him up into a hard kiss. He tries to stay in control, to hold back his obvious desire for just a little longer, but he quickly loses the battle and lets a bit of hunger take over. They pour equal heat into the kiss, tongues pressing and teeth clashing as their mouths slide against each other. She threads her fingers through his curls, he bites her lip, and they both groan and gasp into the kiss.

Chloe’s the one to pull away, needing air sooner than him. They’re looking into each other’s eyes, both panting, when he says it again, ‘J’ai envie de toi.’ This time, breathy desperation shines through his voice. ‘Je veux être en toi.’

And then they’re kissing again and both of them are working at his belt and pants in a flurry of hands until he’s finally inside her with one quick thrust. He fills her to the hilt, deliciously stretching her inner muscles, warm and hard. For a moment, they’re both so overcome they can only pause and breathe, Lucifer’s forehead cradled in the crook of her shoulder as her hand gently strokes the short hairs on the back of his neck.

He pulls back to look deeply into her eyes, and starts off slow. Not teasing, just tender. He kisses her cheeks and neck, every inch of skin he can reach with his lips, and whispers sweet nothings against her skin. She can’t know for sure, of course, because it’s still in French, and she doesn’t catch all of it, the sounds alien and muffled—‘t’es incroyable’, she hears, ‘j’suis fou amoureux de toi’—but something about his tone tells her it’s not as dirty as whatever he was saying before. Still, it makes her just as wet, the words tingling across her skin.

He picks up the pace, wraps her legs tighter around him, and pushes her harder against the wall. His hand grasps her breast roughly, seeking purchase, then rhythmically strokes over her nipple in apology, and she moans her relief. The shelves on either side of them hit the wall with a consistent thump, thump, thump as he thrusts up into her, fucks her, their harsh pants mingling in the small space between their parted lips. Chloe claws at Lucifer’s shoulders and back, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. Even through the two layers of fabric, she can feel his warmth and muscles, and a sudden urge bubbles up within her. With desperate fingers, she starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, but it takes too long—she needs him—so she rips open both shirt and waistcoat and frantically pushes them off his shoulders. He pins her against the wall with a hard thrust, letting go of her thigh and breast to shake the material onto the floor, and Chloe scratches at his finally bare back and shoulders, nails digging into slick, freckled flesh. She arches back into the wall and bares her neck for him to nip and kiss.

‘Fuck, Lucifer!’ she whines. ‘Oh, God, baby, fuckyes!’

He growls at the sound of her noises and bites her ear.

‘J’adore baiser avec toi.’ One hand slides down to her ass, holding her and pushing her dress higher up as the other bites into the now bare skin at her waist. The sharp touch sends a jolt down to her throbbing clit, making her clench tighter around him. ‘J’adore ton corps. T’es vraiment une déesse.’ The last word is a groan against her lips as he kisses her.

It’s wet, messy, and so delicious they both grasp tightly onto each other’s mouths with lips, tongues and teeth, neither of them wanting to ever let go.

‘Je veux t’embrasser,’ Lucifer pants when they break apart for a second, his gaze fixed on her mouth as their lungs fight for air. His dark eyes soften when they look into hers. ‘Chaque jour de ma vie,’ he adds reverently as he leans in. ‘Pour toujours.’ And then he kisses her again, like he wants it to last for all eternity.

His thrusts turn slower and deeper as they kiss, harder, until kissing becomes panting into each other’s mouths and Chloe’s head falls back in sheer pleasure. He tightens his grip on her ass and runs the hand on her waist up her side, brushing his thumb over her nipple as he passes her breast, up her neck, and cups the side of her face. She lets their eyes meet, and the way he’s looking at her, with absolute awe and gratitude, makes her heart flutter and her hips buck against his bare stomach. Her hands slide from where they’ve been clutching his mess of a hair to his back, trailing down to where he’s most sensitive. She places her palms on either side of his spine and presses lightly, carefully.

‘Tu me-’ he cuts off with a gasp when her nails skim over his hidden wings, ‘Tu me rends- fucking hell, Chloe.’

She keens at the guttural sound of her name. He leans his forehead against hers with a grunt, the slight change in angle making his rhythm falter, one hand slamming against the wall next to her. She watches the rest of his control slip through glazed eyes. She did this to him. She rendered God himself lost to his own bliss. That knowledge itself is nearly enough to push her over the edge.

‘Close,’ she breathes.

He grabs both her thighs with strong hands and presses her flush up against the wall, going impossibly deeper inside her. She hisses through her teeth and sputters all kinds of incoherent, unholy prayers into the sweltering air between them. Every hard thrust pushes her closer to ecstasy.

‘You make me so happy,’ Lucifer whispers, sounding so wrecked and raw her eyes clench shut. ‘I want- I hope- fuck- I hope I make you, nnf, just as happy.’

‘You do, baby. You make me so- so-’

Heat floods her veins as she comes, the sweet tension snapping all at once. She cries out, arches her back, and moans long and low as he continues to fuck her through it. His thrusts are quick and inelegant, his arms and thighs trembling, and she knows he’s close. She intentionally clenches around him, whispers his name, and then he too is tumbling over the edge, the only type of falling she ever wants him to feel again.

They smile at each other as they try to catch their breaths, sweaty foreheads still pressed together.

‘I love you,’ he says. ‘So much.’

She hums with happiness, her heart pleasantly aching at the sound of the words he couldn’t say the last time they were here.

‘I love you too, babe.’ She reaches up to lazily nuzzle the hairs at the nape of his neck, still smiling.

‘Maybe you even like me?’

She lets out a breathy chuckle and slides down the wall to land on her bare feet. Her legs are… wobbly, to say the least. Lucifer smirks at her.

‘We’ll see about that.’ She smoothes out her dress as he tucks himself back into his pants and fastens his belt. ‘If anyone ever finds out about this, your chances are pretty bad, buddy.’

She collects his clothes from the floor and helps him into his shirt. Two buttons are missing, lost to the force of her hasty ripping. It gives her an odd sense of satisfaction, the fact that the shirt he wore when they first kissed—the shirt she dreamt of tearing off his body—now is marked by their little escapade. (At least until he gets his tailor to fix it.)

‘Well, I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you then, won’t I?’ He licks his lips and lifts his eyebrows as he offers her a hand to help her up from the floor once she’s put her shoes back on. Chloe bites her cheek so as to not smile at his suggestion and intertwines their fingers.

‘You can start by helping me assemble that new shelf system tomorrow,’ she tells him, waiting for him to groan in response, or mumble something about hiring some people to do it for them. But he doesn’t. He just opens the door for her and lets her go first with a soft smile on his still flushed face.

‘Anything for you, my love.’

The door shuts with a gentle click behind them.

[sif-the-tsunami]

When I Was His Wife

“Well I was looking forward to/ staying here forever/ ‘cause you asked me to/ Didn’t think I could do better/ So I settled down/ in this ten cent town/ it’s about to break me.” These are the Best Years of my Life- Pistol Annies

This is the follow up to “When You Fall Apart” Which is one of my favorites that I’ve written.

(there is Sy just carrying the weight of all of my own internal chaos)

A/N thank you for everyone who encouraged me to write this, I adore Sy as a character. He seemed like someone who could pull off the impossible. I made some choices in here that not everyone will agree with. Tell me I’m wrong in the comments an we can discuss it there.

Pairing: Sy and Josephine

Warnings: again all of them. discussion of infidelity, Discussion of child loss, discussion of unprotected sexual intercourse, headbutting, day drinking, self medicating, therapy, swearing fealty on ones hunting knife, discussion of knife play, I’m probably missing something

 Everything is going below the cut this time to save anyone who doesn’t like this kind of stuff from unpleasantness.

word count just shy of 7.5K

Thank you to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for letting me bounce ideas off of you, love you sweet girl

tagging: @oddsnendsfanfics @willkatfanfromasia @rocket44 @feralrunaway @littlewrenofrivia​  @summersong69​  @coffeebooksandfandom​ @klaine-92​ @nothingright​ @cavillsim​ @watery-lane​ @above-average-ass-bitch 

unbeta’d

I slept for the next two days, Mama only woke me up long enough to drink some water once she started worrying about me. She managed to wrangle my out of my clothes and into one of Daddy’s shirts we got him that she left in the drawer. My phone was dead, but thankfully Mama and I had the same kind so I could charge it today. What fresh hell was going to be waiting for me on my digital leash? I lay there for a while, the murmur of conversation in the other room was comforting. Mama left a fresh glass of water some time recently, it was still chilly with only a little condensation forming around the sides. The ache in my chest was almost unbearable. The hole in my heart was Syverson sized, being sober made the edges of that abyss feel even more raw and pronounced. I don’t know if my liver could handle me drowning my sorrow much more, but I would give anything to not feel it. I need to make this feeling of worthlessness go away.

When I finally decided to rejoin the land of the living, Mama and my brother Teddy were talking at the kitchen table, discussing about if they should come with me to go get my things or if I should call the sheriff’s office to be monitored. I stayed behind the corner long enough to let them finish what they were going on about.

“If I know Jo well enough, she’s going to need someone to keep her from burning the whole house down with him in it tied to a chair,” my brother chuckled. “She’s been taking care of herself for years. You should have seen how she handled one of these girls who came up to us once on Post.

“Jo was loading up the car when this prissy little thing came walking up, she must have thought she was some kind of hot shit. You would have been so proud of her Mama, the girl said to her that she had been sleeping with James during their deployment. All Jo said back to her was ‘You’ve both been back for something like three months, right, have you seen him since?’ Little Miss Hot Shit stuttered and said ‘Well not yet,’ like she had been really holding out that he was going to. ‘He doesn’t have my new phone number.’ Jo just tiled her head to the side. Smiled at her real sweetly and told her, ‘Baby girl, he’s not going to. He knows how to find you. You were just a rental car to him, sweetie bell. Ford Fiestas are fun as hell to ride but let’s be honest, you aren’t going to pick a Fiesta over the Mercedes Benz you have at home. You aren’t the first and you sure as hell won’t be the last, now go on and get out of here before I ruin the rest of your day like you tried to ruin mine.’ One of the other officer’s wives came up to her and said she was amazed that she handled her so well without breaking Miss Prissy Pant’s face. She just said ‘I’m too pretty to go to prison, Kathy.’ And we hoped in the car. You raised one tough lady, Mama.”

“How many times has that happened, Theodore, I need to know.”

“She has only told me about four women meeting her face to face. The two pregnant girls who got knocked up to get out of their deployments, Prissy Pants, and one who thought that James was in love with her. She evidently broke down in tears on the tarmac when Josie jumped into his arms and he swung her around. But she would get letters tucked into the windshield of her car for months whenever he returned from deployment.”

“You two kept this from me for years, why?”

“Jo said that this was her problem, don’t you remember how you handled it when her first boyfriend ran out on her on prom night? She cried to you and Dad, and you just told her that no one is worth weeping over. She’s just been trying to make you proud, Mama. Daddy might have known because I know they had a really nasty fight about a month before he died.”

I walked out after that. Mama’s eyes were red, “Good morning, baby, do you want pancakes? Bacon and eggs? What do you want, Darlin’?”

“Coffee would be a good start.” I rasped. “Can I use your charger?”

“It’s right here. Cream and sugar?”

“Black as my sense of humor, please Mama.” I said, Teddy chuckled again. I reached over and squeezed my brother’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I got to look after my little sissy.” He replied using what he called me growing up. “So what are we doing to get over Jimmy?”

“I was thinking tattoos and day drinking?”

“Atta’ girl, Josie. Fuck that douche canoe.”

As soon as my phone was able to turn on, it sat on the counter vibrating for the next five minutes.  Six missed calls from James. And seventy text messages. A few from stores I shop at, but the majority were from my husband.

“Ugh, I just don’t feel like dealing with this right now.” I said as my mom put my coffee in front of me.

“Just leave him on read. I doubt he’s hurting for company.”  Mama said, in almost a snarl. I looked through a few messages. The last one was from this morning. Sweetheart, I’m worried sick about you, I miss you. Please talk to me?

“Ted, do you want to go with me to Walmart so I can get a couple day’s worth of clothes, I am just not ready to go back and I can’t live in Daddy’s old shirts.”

“Of course, we can get some booze while we are there.”

“Get yourself a bathing suit while you are there, honey, its going to be beautiful today and you can go for a swim.” Mama added.

I texted James back finally as I finished my coffee. I’m sorry I worried you, Sy, I have literally been asleep since I got here. I’m not ready.

I understand. I’m sorry, I should have seen how much I’ve been hurting you. I swear to God, I really do love you. Please, let me know what I can do for you.

Yeah, you should have, James. You should have seen how bad you’ve been treating me. You can drop off the face of the earth, that’s what you can do for me, I think spitefully. Thankfully, Mama washed my yoga pants and tank top. It would have to be alright for now. My brother let me wear one of his extra flannel shirts he kept in the back of his car. An hour later, Ted and I were at the store, picking up chips, dip, and cheap champagne. Mama loved mimosas, so I thought it was the least I could do. I grabbed a couple of sun dresses and a bikini, if I was going to be gone for a few days, I was going to come back home looking refreshed, radiant even, and not like the hot pile of garbage I was feeling like. I made a small detour to the cosmetics department, got myself a couple of face masks, hair dye, and sun screen.

“Really? Dark brown, Josie?”

“That’s as close to my natural color as I can, I’m tired of the blonde highlights. I think after this I might just let it come in. Grays and all. Who ever loves me next is going to have to just deal with me as nature intended.”

“I’m proud of you. Do you think you will leave him for good?” He said, Ted has always been very protective of me.

“Well, I certainly can’t leave him for evil, can I?” Making him laugh. One the way outside there was a truck near the front of the store with a sign that read “Puppies for sale.”

“Teddy, we need to see these puppies.” I gasped. Walking up to the truck bed I saw the sweetest little German Shepard puppies. I reached in and they all started flopping all over the place trying to get pets and love. Maybe a puppy was exactly what my hurting heart needed. We haven’t had a dog since Aika passed away. It was looking like I would never have a baby but maybe this was the kind I needed. Puppy snuggles would definitely make that Syverson shaped hole less painful.

“I’ll buy you a puppy if you divorce James.” Ted said to me, half joking.

“Shit, I can afford the puppy, pay for the divorce.” I jest back. “How much for one of the precious babies?”

“$500 a pup, mom has a pedigree, but daddy was the neighbor’s sneaky bastard.” The woman also petting the puppies said. “Mama is in the front if you want to meet her, daddy is very friendly as well.”

I start laughing uncontrollably. With tears in my eyes, I ask if any of the puppies are girls, and she pulls   out a beautiful little one with floppy ears and the biggest smile I had ever seen on a dog. Oh yeah, she was meant for me.

“I’ll take her, do you take checks?” I think I’m ready to start healing.

*****

“Josephine, that son of a bitch you call your husband is here to see you.” Mama shouts from the house. It’s Sunday afternoon now, Teddy and I have exhausted all the snacks and mimosas hours ago and now we were sobering up by the pool. My new baby girl is laying next to my sun chair, chewing on her bone, wearing a pretty pink collar.

“Well, might as well let him out here.” I shout back.

“Are you sure, I can kick his ass to the curb if you want me to, baby.”

“Its okay Mama, I can handle him myself.” Sy walks out in the back yard a couple minutes later. I’m guessing Mama threatened to stick him in a meat grinder.

“I deserved that.” He said, looking thoroughly admonished. “You changed your hair, it looks really good...

“Oh bless your heart, James. That’s not even half of what you deserve.” Ted spoke up before he could finish, not moving his face towards him. He lay there in his swim trunks and dark sunglasses.

“Oh great, all three of you have been drinking. I can tell this is going to go well...” James sighed. “Who is this cutie pie, did your Ma get a new dog?”

“She’s my dog, her name is Stella Rosa.”

“I don’t think anyone asked you to come, Colonel Sanders, what are you doing here?” Ted snapped.

“Hey, I got this, okay? I’m a big girl, please, go in the house. The fuck are you doing here James?” I lift my sun glasses up.

“She’s a very sweet pup. Yeah, you are a good girl for your mama, aren’t you? I came to see you. I want to bring you home, baby, I miss you.” He’s checking out my fresh tan in my new bikini. Subtly, but he does it.

“I’m not ready. I’m not even ready to talk to you. Why would you think that I even want to come home?”

“I don’t know, I asked myself that the entire drive here. I don’t know what I’m even going to do with myself when I go home alone. Pussycat, I can’t begin to think of life without you. I know I fucked up. And I know I can’t take that back. You asked me the other day what I kept that was special just between us. I should have answered you then. All those nights where you fell asleep with your head on my chest, the evenings laying in the back of the truck looking at the stars after driving around trying to find the best nachos in town. And, baby, no matter where we go, yours are always the best. No one else ever got moments like that. You are the only woman I want to slow dance with in the middle of the night.

“You are the only person in the world that I would wait four hours in the freezing cold to get the best brisket in Austin for because you were craving bbq when we were still, you know...” He paused. I don’t think he ever stopped blaming himself for what happened. His knees were never the same after that accident, and usually whenever he stood up from kneeling, they clicked and popped painfully. He leaned a little closer spreading his legs and reached down to pet Stella. She seemed a little leery of him. It is easy to be cynical given the circumstances, but there is something about the way he is talking to me, I haven’t heard him be this earnest in years.

“When was the last time you were with someone other than me?” I can’t bring myself to look at him. I keep my eyes anywhere but on him. My body aches so badly for him to just wrap his arms around me. I miss him.

“When I got held up in Kuwait for two weeks in December...”

“December? You mean when you missed my fucking birthday. Goddammit James...” And the ache is gone. My heart shattered again. He’s going to make me cry again.

“Hey, it was after your birthday, and it was a hate fuck because I was mad that I broke yet another promise to you.”

“That doesn’t make it better.” I snap. “How many that deployment?”

“Just the one. And she’s someone who I knew was more discreet because we had that arrangement before.”

“I swear on my Daddy’s grave that if you are lying to me right now, I will end you Syverson. You couldn’t have waited a few more days?”

“I had no idea when I was going home. We boarded that fucking plane three times and had to turn back because there was a problem with it. I was two seconds away from tearing apart the first Private that so much as looked at me sideways. It felt like, at the time, the less terrible choice.”

“They sound both pretty shitty to me. You are a fucking adult James, you have to be able to control yourself or at least be responsible for your actions. If this is what you think love is, I would rather you hate me.” I stand up. Stella wags her tail excited to get away.

“Josephine, please...” He grasps my wrist, not hard, but there wasn’t anyway I was going to be able to get out of his big hand.

“Please what? Please stay so you can keep treating me like this. There are some people in this world who have no problem playing second or third fiddle, they are just thankful they are in the band. But I deserve to be your first chair, or I don’t want to play at all.”

“Mama wants to know if the jackass is staying for dinner.” Ted shouts at us.

“He going!” “I’m staying!” we yell over each other. He’s not looking at me, he’s not even looking at the pup. His eyes are somewhere else, mentally for a second he is somewhere else also.

“Baby…  I… You have always been my first chair. There is no one else on earth like you. I have never done anything with these women as an act of love. It was always been, and I mean always, just a way to scratch an itch. Every time I was gone, every time things got bad, getting to come home to you was the thing that keep me going, Jo. You have been my safe harbor for the worst parts of my life.”

“James… That doesn’t excuse what you’ve done. You aren’t the man I fell for anymore. This isn’t healthy.” He let go of my wrist, and rubs his face. Those beautiful eyes of his have seen so much. For the first time I think he actually looks… broken. Is this the remorse I have been wanting to see? I try not to keep scores, especially when it comes to my loved ones. But for the first time since things went sour, he looks like I hurt him as much as he has hurt me.

Maybe there was love between us once. However there are just two broken hearts for now.

“Come on in the house, I can at least feed you before I send you back.”

“I think I will just go,” he says it quietly. “I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Don’t be like that, I am still cooking like I’m making dinner for you, so its way too much for the three of us. Come on in, I made carnitas.”

“I’ll be in, I just need a minute.” He refuses to let me see him cry if he’s not waking up screaming, even after all this time. Whenever we could have a healing moment, he pushes me out. I went inside, and started setting the table.

“Are we poisoning his tacos?” Teddy asked me.

“That’s not the worst idea I’ve heard today.” Mama interjected.

“No, and don’t start anything. He’s eating dinner with us, don’t either of you make him feel bad. I already did that.” Sy walked in at that moment, those blue eyes of his rimmed with red. He looked defeated. The four of us ate our dinner in silence. There was a time where he would have made some kind of comment about eating me out when we had tacos. He looked at me once during the meal, I think he remembered it too. He offered to clear the plates when were all done and sat in uncomfortable silence. The cockiness I had grown accustomed to over the years was gone.

He carried himself like this when we lost our baby, he can’t take that kind of humility. At least not with me.

“Sy...” I waited until the others were out of the room. “Do you still want me to come home with you?”

“Not if it means all we are going to do is get a divorce. I can’t see you every day knowing that I will never get to be yours again. I let them do a lot of terrible things to me over the years, but that… that I can’t handle.” His voice cracked. “If you want out, I will give you everything you ask for. I won’t fight you. But please, give me a chance to fight for you.”

“I don’t think you are exactly in a position to make that that request.” I lean against the counter across the room from him.

“No, I’m not.” he half smirked, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Look, I’m not saying that this can’t still all explode in our faces. But I miss my best friend and that has always been the best part of us. It will never be the same as it was before, it can’t be. However, if you are willing to work with me, I am willing to see if we there is any salvageable. If nothing else, we both need therapy very badly. We can’t just shrug this off. The second that it goes back to where we were, I’m gone.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.” He sniffs hard, and his breath is broken up, tucking his arms against himself. Usually its in authority, this time hes just trying to hug himself. I gesture him to come over and I hug him. He wraps his arms around then envelopes me. Leaning his head on mine, he whispers “I’ll do whatever you want, my darlin.”

I told my mom that I would be going home, she sighed at me. “Do you think this is the best idea?”

“I don’t know, Mama. I think I just want some closure. I told him if he so much as sneezes out of line that I’m gone. Forever. There will be no more chances.”

“Well, baby, I trust you. You are always welcome back here if you need to get away.”

While I’m packing my stuff into the shopping bags I had, I hear a sudden crack and Sy groans then swears. “yeah, I deserved that too.”

“What the fuck did you just do, Theodore?” I yell coming out. Ted was still holding my husband’s hand, and Sy was holding his face. “Did you… just headbutt him?”

“Yes, I did. My sister my might be willing to move past your mistakes, but I’m not. However, I’ve always been the petty one in the family. Hurt her again, they will have to dig your nuts out of your chest cavity, do we understand each other?”

“Yep, perfectly.” Sy grimaced. There were very few men that he would not retaliate against. Teddy, at 6’5, and years of horse wrangling, was one of them. Sy was build like a brick shit house, but so was my big brother. I thought we were old enough to not resort to violence, I have been wrong before.

My probably, potentially, soon to be ex-husband put mine and Stella’s things in the back bench of his truck. I held her in the crook of my arm as I climbed up in the cab. He gently shut the door for me, I noticed his shiner was going to be pretty gnarly in the morning.

He climbed into the other side as I set little Stella down on the floor. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it was a cheap shot, I’ll be fine. At this point, I don’t want to rock the boat with your brother and Ma. She tore me a new asshole before I got outside today.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t changed your mind, say to hell with me and that I’m not worth the hassle.”

“Josephine, I might not have made the appropriate effort to show you how much you mean to me, but you are worth it.” The Syverson shaped hole in my heart roared. Why couldn’t he have been this way all along?

We talked about the girl at the movies, and how she was one of his new officers. She might have come on to him, but he never engaged with her outside of work related things. He told her several times that he wasn’t interested but she was persistent. I halfway apologized for trying to decapitate him with a tequila bottle. He acknowledged that this was a long time coming.  This was the most we had talked about anything deep for months. I don’t know if it was too little and too late though.

The rest of the drive home we made a plan of action. He would move into the office and would stay in there until I invited him back into my bed. We would start couple’s therapy as soon as we could. He would also start seeing a therapist individually. Before we got into town I also told him my final request for our reconciliation. I wanted to see other people. I had been with him since I was nineteen, I have never faltered in my devotion to him. I wanted to see if he was really the one for me.

When I got home, I poured out the rest of my alcohol, save for a bottle of champagne I was saving for our anniversary. He took Stella outside to go potty and came back singing her name “Stella bella, who is a good girl? Your Mama picks good puppies, yes she does. Good girl, Stella bella.”

Stella came prancing back to me with her tail wagging happily. He walked up behind me, and grazes the backs of my arms gently with his knuckles, leaning down to kiss my neck. “Not yet, Sy. I don’t want us to complicate things more than they already are.”

“Josie, what do you mean?”

“I don’t want to have sex with you until we start therapy.”

“So you want us to stop having sex, sleep in separate rooms and at some point you want to start seeing other men.” He starts nodding. He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes. “Okay, it that’s what you want to do. I was thinking about getting my stuff out of the bedroom so I can try to get some sleep. I love you, Pussycat. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, James went to bed. He was snoring on the couch in the office by the time I went to go lay down.      

****

It took us three weeks to get into see a couples therapist. It felt a little validating about my decision that we shouldn’t sleep together until we have really decided to try or not. She had me stay behind and talk with her for another half an hour the first time we met.  She asked me why I wanted to save my marriage with Sy if he’s hurt me for years.

“I don’t rightly know,” I told her. “Maybe its because when we are good we are so damn good. Before we were married, I was warned, I knew that things happened overseas and I shouldn’t take it personally, he’s just a man and not a saint. I never have had a doubt in my mind about if he’s been faithful when he’s been here until recently when a woman he knows started acting weird around me. The love we had was so passionate, like sometimes he thought that if he couldn’t put his hands on me I would disappear. I don’t think I will ever find someone who can love me like that again.”

The therapist suggested that he starts getting treated for PTSD and anger management while we all were working together. I would also have my own separate sessions to work on my own issues. It took a few months but I started seeing small differences in how he was handling things at work that pissed him off. He was able to defuse himself more easily. He became more open with his feelings. I think it helped that we both stopped drinking. We could be a little volatile when we had a pitcher (or three) of margaritas.

There were days with our sessions where we leave emotionally exhausted and not speak to each other the rest of the day, some of them ended in peals of laughter, others where I would cry for most of it. We discussed the infidelity at great lengths. I don’t want to rehash the details but it was definitely one of the bad days. But it seems that the root cause was him using the only the other women for comfort after fairly traumatic events. It’s why it only happened on deployments. He needed to feel something other than pain.

The lack sexual intimacy between the two of us made James start to get creative to initiate closeness between the two of us. He started helping me make dinner on the weekends, or he would bring me my coffee in the morning the way I like it. Mama and Teddy started coming over occasionally for suppers. It was nice to have the house filled with laughter. We started talking again like when we first started dating. He would take the time to go with me grocery shopping.

He started asking me out on dates again. Myself, him and Stella would drive out to the country, with a picnic basket that he would even prepare himself and we would go star gazing like we used to. I loved seeing the effort, but that hole still ached in my chest the whole time. The pieces should have all fit together, but here I was still not sure I could commit to him for the rest of my life.

On one of these dates, he asked me what I thought about him retiring. He had been in for almost nineteen years at this point and had far exceeded is expectations for being in the Army as an officer.

“I kind of just want to sell off all our extra shit and buy a really nice Air-stream. We can pull it with my truck. Just travel up and down the continent, I know you always have wanted to see the Northern Lights, we can just go anywhere. Me, you and Stella would visit where ever we could find a parking spot.”

“That sounds nice, Sy.” It came out a little half hearted.

“You don’t sound convinced, sweetheart.” He said, started sounding concerned.

“Hun, I don’t want to have a fight right now, so please just let me get this off my chest.” I sigh. And then I told him about the pain in my chest that I’ve had since my night in jail. That sometimes, like tonight, it was only a dull ache. That other times the edges are still so sharp that it feels like the pain was going to swallow me whole. He sits up, jaw dropped.

“Why haven’t you told me this before? I… Jo… son of a bitch.” He groans. He lays back down, the same defeated tone came back that I hadn’t heard since Mama’s house. “I’m trying my best, Josephine, but I feel like I have one hand tied behind my back… you will never love me again, will you?  I can grovel, and beg. I don’t know what else I need to do. I know what I want to do, but it will just hurt you more.”

“What do you want to do, Sy?”

“I want to kiss every part of your skin, remind your body that I worship it. I want to pin you to the wall of our hallway and make love to you. I want to go to sleep with my nose buried in in your hair, and wake up sliding inside of you. I have since you came home. Hell, I always want to do that with you. But that can’t be the only thing that keeps us together.” He looked over at Stella sprawl out.

“I didn’t say this to hurt you, hun. I just wanted to be honest with you.”

“I know, I… just don’t want to cause you more misery. I really thought we were, you know, heading back in the right direction.”

“We have been, and honestly, I think if we threw in the towel now, it would cause more harm than good.” I say as the tears well up in my eyes. For the first time since I was taken away, I straddle his hips. He sits up and I place my hands on either side of his face, then lean in to kiss him. He kisses me back with the same hunger. I missed him. The ache dulled a little until he pulled away.

“Let’s get going, Jo, I want you so fucking bad. I want to take you here and now, I want to make you scream my name and damn anyone who catches us. We need to stop this, the agreement was that we wouldn’t. Fuck I’ve missed how you taste.” He said before stealing one more kiss.

*****

The next week was awkward to say the least, the therapist was pleased about the kissing and that I opened up. She said that it was possible that the pain would go away, but that he and I needed to remember that it was like I was grieving. In the mean time, we should continue to take it slowly because we both needed to be sure. The following few days he was distant, and the ache returned in full force.

With his PTSD treatments, he was having less nightmares. It was the best thing I could ask for. There were still times where he would yell in his sleep but they had become farther and farther apart. It was a night after he had his individual treatment, he had come home talking about how he felt the night of my breakdown. He came home and told me a little bit, how he had never seen me so angry before, thrashing about like a caged animal. He hated himself for pushing me there. That night, in the darkness of the small hours, I woke up from being dead asleep hearing him say my name in a panic. He then repeated sounding more and more scared. “Josie, oh my god, Josie, no. I’m sorry Jo, I didn’t mean to. JoJo!”

I rushed into the office, he was jerking violently in his sleep about on the couch. I turned on the light near his head. When these dreams happen, his eyes were usually opened, it creeps my out every time. I start to gently wake him up, saying his name and touching him as gently as possible. It took a few moments but he came back to me.

“Jo, Jesus fuck, you’re alright?”

“Of course I am, sweetheart, what happened? I’m right here, I’m okay, you are okay, everything is okay.”

“I dreamed we were back in the kitchen, you were under me. Screaming and whipping about. I had to restrain you more then I accidentally broke your neck and you died in my arms. It felt real, baby, I was holding your body and then the sheriff came and that’s when you woke me up. Oh my god. I fucking can’t. I can’t anymore. I need you, Josie. If something happens to you, oh fuck.” I have never seen James sob like this. He pawed at me until I was wrapped in his arms. I slipped my arms around his neck and held his head to mine. His sobs were hard. We sat there until he let it all out.

“Come on, big man, let’s get you into bed. Come with me. I’ll stay with you all night.” He nodded at me and followed me to the bed we used to share. I wrapped him up in our fluffy blankets. He snuggled into me and was asleep in moments. I stayed there in his arms until he woke up. The Syverson shaped hole hurt less that night.

When he woke up he started crying again. He held me and started kissing my face. “Thank god. I thought you coming to me last night was another dream.”

“No baby, I’m here.” He sniffed hard and squeezed me closer to him. We went back to sleep for a few more hours and when we got up for the day he moved his things back into our bedroom. We might not have started other marital acts but we both started sleeping better having the other person in bed. It had been almost six months we started trying to reconcile.

*****

It had been an interesting couple of months while we started the transition for him to retire. Soon it was only a matter of days. The dates had continued, the kissing had continued, but something was keeping me back from being able to say that the next step was what I wanted. Therapy continued, and we would be seeing her for the next few months. Before I left my private session she asked me if I had given myself a deadline. She was concerned that I might keep dragging it out and that would just make both of us miserable. I told her I had an idea and that I planned on pulling the trigger soon.

Sy’s superiors were setting up a retirement ceremony for him, followed by a dinner with the upper chain of command. He wasn’t looking forward to it, Sy just wanted to be out and done. He came home one day while I was watching a show based on a book series I had read when we first were married. The redheaded Scot swore fealty to his wife, offering to pierce his own heart with a dagger if he should ever rebel against her again.  

“What’s this you’re watching?” He asked.

“Outlander, it just picked back up again from a season break. It’s pretty damn close to the book.”

“So is this what the ladies like these days, men in kilts offering to off themselves if they fuck up?”

“Women have liked men in kilts since I can remember. Why do you think we go to the Renn Faire every year.” I wink at him. “But yeah, I’m sure that does it for some people.”

“Well shit, Pussycat, it’s the only thing I haven’t done.” Sy walked out of the room and came back with his favorite hunting knife. It had been his dad’s once upon a time. The handle was made out of buck horn. In his warn and dusty uniform, he knelt in front of me on the living room floor. His beautiful blue eyes looking into mine, “Well, this isn’t iron, and it definitely isn’t holy. However, I will swear on it either way. Josephine, you are the only woman I have ever loved, you are my best friend, and I adore you. I will never do anything to make you doubt that love or loyalty again. If I ever do anything that makes you feel like you are less than the beautiful, smart, incredible, sexy creature that you are, you can sink this right in my heart. I will even hold it there for you so all you have to do is press it right in.” He finishes with a tongue click as an exclamation.      

“James, you didn’t need to do this. You know I am weird about grand gestures.”

“No, I think I do. I said my vows to you on our wedding rings and I wasn’t able to keep it. But, I will never break this one. If I can earn your love back, I will never do anything to make you regret giving me this chance to be your man.” He still held the knife against his chest with one hand, and placed my hand over his with the other. “So what do you think, baby girl? We still have a long way to go, but I can’t think of anyone else I would rather struggle with.”

“I think you just put yourself in a position that I could just end you now if I wanted to.” I say with my usual sass.

“Yes, you could. I don’t think you will though.” He said smiling, his voice was husky and deep as usual. I love that easy smile of his.

“Is it wrong that I want to get on your lap and make out with you while I hold this against you.” His eyebrow raised. “Maybe more than just make out with you.”

“Oh, don’t you tease me now, sweet thing. I don’t want to start anything you won’t finish.”

“Who said I won’t finish it, Colonel Syverson?” His eyes grew as big as dinner plates.  

“Wait, do you mean it?” He choked.

“Yeah, I do mean it.” I laughed. Before I could get up, he had hiked the skirt of the dress I was wearing up to my hips, pulling me to the edge of the sofa, revealing that I had skipped a certain garment that day. “I had an idea for after supper, but if you want we can do this now…. Oh fuck I’ve missed this.”

Before I can even finish my sentence, he was going to town with his tongue on his favorite part of my body. He remembered everything that made me squeal in delight. From the lack of sex on both of our ends, he was able to get me off easily. My body was desperate for his touch. He stopped once my body was trembling, kissing one of my thighs from my apex to my knee. He suddenly grunted and bit down on a tender part. He started panting and kissed the spot he bit.

“I’m sorry, sugar, I didn’t want to only last for two or three thrusts. Fuck, I have missed this pretty pussy. You taste so good.” He had a handful of his own cum and looked around for a tissue. Without a word, I grabbed his hand and licked it clean, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. He moaned out and then stood up. He took his shirt off, and lifted me up off the couch. I knew this hurt his back and knees but I wasn’t about to chastise him for wanting to be romantic. He carried me like we were on our honeymoon back to the bedroom. He lay me down as gently as possible then finished stripping himself. I took my dress off leaving myself exposed to him in a way that I haven’t in almost a year. Sy joined me on the bed, open and vulnerable to me. I loved those thick thighs and torso of his, he always eclipsed me.

“Hello ladies, nice to finally see you again.” He purred as he licked and sucked on my nipples. He leaned to one side and massaged my breasts with one of his hands. “Glad to see you that you missed me too.”

Before long, I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. He spread my legs and rubbed himself against my opening. He leaned down and kissed my neck before sliding himself inside of me. I moan his name as he gently started making love to me. Bearing his weight on his elbows, he kissed and nipped at my neck.

Breathlessly, he told me how much he missed my body, how much he loved me, how lucky he was to have me. As his tempo increased, he started to whisper in me ear.

“Josephine, tell me what you are.” I looked at him confused. “You are my wife, I want you to tell me that you are my wife.”

“I’m your wife, James.” I tell him as lovingly as possible.

“Louder, baby.”

“I’m your wife.” I said loud and clearly. The Syverson shaped hole in my chest is gone, finally. Replaced with the warmth of knowing we were going to be able to survive this.

“Even louder, Jo.” I yell it out and he thrusts harder and deeper. “Keep going, beautiful, I want the whole neighborhood to know.”

I screamed it as he started pounding me harder, building his orgasm. As my own starts its crescendo, I screamed his name and arched my back as he pulls my hips down on himself and spilled into me. He lay down beside me, twitching and jerking a little. He kisses all the parts of my skin that is available to his reach.

“I think we should order a pizza for dinner tonight,” He says after a few minutes of catching his breath. “So we can stay in bed and make love again.”

“Or, and hear me out. I put my dress back on, you get dressed and we go out for sushi with your cum dripping down my thighs. What do you think about that?”

“Shit, I missed you being a damn freak like that. Do I we get to have more fun tonight if I say yes?” He chuckles, then kisses my hand, “I still want you to ride me with my knife pointed at me some time tonight.”  

“Aren’t you scared I’m going to cut off a nipple or something.”

“You, with a knife? To be honest, cutting off my nipple is the least of my concerns. How do I know if this just isn’t a whole plan to lure me into complacency with sex and sushi, then you just murder me in my sleep.” He rolled onto his back and whined for a second, but got up. He put on a pair of khaki shorts and a black Metallica t-shirt as I got into my dress again.

“God damn woman, you are so fucking sexy.” He tells me as he opens the door on my side of the truck and leans down to kiss me again. As I climb up he give my butt a little tap just like he used to and closes the door for me. The ache I’ve been feeling these long months has subsided. Sitting across the cab from me, holding my hand, he asks if we want to go look at travel trailers this weekend. For the first time in a while, I feel like everything is going to be alright.

[lunnanunna]

Skittles

STRAY KIDS Extra Member AU

Summary: Ollie shows the boys her new look.

Warnings: none

Taglist:  @hyunmijung @galacticstxrdust @boss-baby-jongho @kimonmars @mythicalamphitrite @poutypoutybin @sunflower-0180​

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from a taglist.

A/N: Another feel good post, cuz I’ve been missing skittle Ollie.

Requests are closed. Please like, leave a comment, or send in an ask. Doing any of these things is one more reason for me to keep writing.

Chan, Minho, and Seungmin all sat around the living room when Ollie burst into the dorm. She ran in, completely passing them and going to her room. The boys would have been nervous if it weren’t for the shouts coming from her room.

“Yah, Noona! Watch where you’re going!” Jisung shouted.

“Shut up. I’m in a rush,” Ollie shouted back. A few seconds later Ollie could be heard running down the hall.

Chan winced at the possibility of an injury. “Ollie, please be careful,” he called out.

Just then Ollie slid into the living room, dressed in a rainbow cropped top and yellow (And when Chan said yellow, he meant yellow!) overalls, a red beanie, and her unicorn socks. He smiled at the human skittle of the group.

“Guys!” Ollie grinned as she skid to a stop. She almost lost her balance, but caught herself in time and then “skated” over to the three.

“What’s up, Noona?” Chan asked, chuckling.

“Your hair!” Minho pointed out.

Ollie grinned. “That’s one of two things,” she took her hat off and flipped her hair. Ollie had been growing out her mullet for the last few months. Luckily for her, her hair grows fast, now reaching a few inches above her shoulders.

She turned so her back faced the boys then lifted the top half of her hair which was black. The bottom layers were dyed in the colors of the rainbow. It had been almost a year since Ollie had fun colored hair. She was so excited.

“Noona it looks really good!” Chan said, smiling.

Ollie spun back around and grinned wide, doing a little dance. “I’m so happy!” she squealed.

“It’s like a blast from the past,” Minho shook his head, smiling.

“Our skittle Noona is back,” Seungmin snorted, going back to his book.

“I’m back and I’m better than ever!” Ollie cheered, hands on her hips.

Minho gave her a look, raising a brow.

“Okay. Almost better than ever. But I’m working on it. Definitely better than before,” Ollie glared at him.

“Yes. Yes you are, Noona,” Chan smiled, “And you’re only going to get better.”

Ollie smiled at him, then nodded.

“What’s the second thing?” Seungmin asked without looking up.

“Right. This.” Ollie grinned as she pulled down the straps on the left side of her overalls and raised her shirt up to just underneath her breast.

Chan’s eyes widened, then relaxed while Minho whistled. “That looks hot Noona,” the dancer smirked.

Ollie had gotten three butterflies tattooed on her rib cage, each one the size of a coin. She had been wanting a new tattoo for a while and finally decided on the butterflies. One butterfly for each of her brothers. She imagined their cringe when she’d tell them that.

“You just really went for a whole makeover, huh?’ Seungmin asked, quirking a brow.

Ollie shrugged. “I’ve been wanting to dye my hair again for months and the same with getting a tattoo. So I told myself that I’d finally get them when I successfully finish a month of therapy,” she said, gently tapping the butterflies.

“That’s a good idea, but how about we change the reward to something like snacks?” Chan asked.

“Yeah, ‘cause at this rate, you’ll be a walking billboard going bald again,” Minho snorted.

“I was never going bald!” Ollie protested.

“That’s right. That was Hyung,” Minho nodded.

“Yah!” Chan looked at the younger, glaring.

“You two have an unhealthy relationship with bleach,” Seungmin said.

“I’ve been good! I haven’t bleached my hair,” Chan whined.

“And I only did half! And it can be hidden too!” Ollie said, stomping her foot.

“You still bleached it though,” Seungmin tilted his head with a knowing look.

“Whatever,” Ollie huffed, walking over to sit next to Minho who had gone back on his phone. He raised his arm up so Ollie could slide into his side, and comfortably watch whatever video he was watching.

“Has Felix seen you yet? He was the one that probably missed the skittle the most,” Chan chuckled.

“Not yet. He’s out with some friends, but I can’t wait to see his reaction,” Ollie beamed.

“Stays are gonna be really happy too. I mean you became the group’s mascot,” Seungmin said.

Ollie rolled her eyes. “I’ve already taken selfies. I just want to show everyone first then upload the pics,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“Then show everyone who’s here,” Minho suggested.

“Not now. Too tired. It took hours to do my hair and then the tattoo. I need a nap first,” she said, snuggling into Minho’s side.

“No promises on keeping the kids away once they walk in and see your hair,” Chan smiled.

Minho sat up a bit and grabbed Ollie’s beanie. He then placed it on her head, making sure to hide the rainbow strands. “There. Problem solved.”

Ollie grinned. “Thanks, Minmin,” she said.

Ollie’s Masterlist

[woogyu]

A World Tinted Gold | Mingyu; Chapter Two

Kalon; beauty that is more than skin-deep

streamer!y/n x werewolf!mingyu

notes; werewolf au

word count; 1749

previous | next | masterlist

summary; The only werewolves you encountered were the ones living inside your video games. They were nothing more to you than mythical creatures you often had to kill in order to complete objectives. You had a good thing going with your online gaming setup. Your supporters were kind and usually tipped well during streams. Sure it meant you had to deal with the occasional creep sliding into your DMs, but it was worth it. Playing games online was putting you through college. Little did you know your quiet life was about to be turned upside down at the hands of someone you didn’t think existed outside of the virtual world.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Are you seriously watching that steamer again? Why don’t you just play the games yourself?” Seungcheol questioned as he stepped into Mingyu’s room, chuckling as the younger wolf quickly turned around and blushed.

“It’s not the same… I’m not really interested in the games, I’m interested in her” Mingyu admitted sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. He didn’t know what it was about you that made him so transfixed, but he had a hard time tearing his eyes from the screen. Hell, just the other day when you read his comment aloud, he was over the moon.

“It’s rare for you to show interest in a girl at all” Seungcheol remarked, eyebrow pulled up in question. Until a wolf found its mate there was little reason to get involved with or show interest in others romantically. There were of course some wolves that preferred being unmated; it allowed them to be explorative with their romantic partners. Not all wolves longed to find their mate, and not all wolves would end up finding their mates. He knew destiny had a hand to play in it all, but the thought of never finding who he was supposed to be with made the wolf in him whine. Mingyu wasn’t an unmated wolf that enjoyed exploring his options, he was desperately waiting for the day he met his mate. Right now, Mingyu wasn’t sure if he was simply lonely or if there was something more going on.

“There is just something about her…” Mingyu started, pausing for a second to find the right words, “I just have a hard time tearing my eyes away from the screen. There is something about her that just draws me in” Mingyu explained. He wasn’t doing a very good job at explaining the feelings that bubbled up inside him when he saw you on screen. When he tried to explain it he could never quite describe the feeling that settled over his chest and body, it was a warmth almost like a subtle glow within him.

Seungcheol didn’t comment on it any further as he moved into the room and crossed his arms over his chest. Mingyu knew better than to ignore the alpha, closing his laptop he turned to face Seungcheol fully. Their pack had a different dynamic than most. Normally a thirteen-member pack would be impossible because of the strain it put on the head alpha. It worked for them because while Seungcheol was their main alpha, they had two secondary alphas, Jihoon and Soonyoung. The three of them shared the work of looking after the group and it worked perfectly for them. He liked that the alphas didn’t abuse their power, there was a lot of lenience in the pack and it made for less confrontations.

“Joshua has to head into town tonight and won’t be able to run the perimeter. Would you be alright with doing it?” Seungcheol asked, pursing his lips as he looked down at the younger wolf. Mingyu normally enjoyed running the perimeter, it meant he got to shift and stretch his body, but this time he was a little bit more hesitant with his answer. Mingyu knew that later on tonight you would have a new video posted and he would have to wait even longer to watch it. It seemed like a silly reason, but his heart ached at the thought of not being able to ‘see’ you on screen until early tomorrow morning.

“Sure! I don’t mind” Mingyu answered with a half-smile, Seungcheol never asked him for much so he figured he could help him out with this. Seungcheol breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned back against the wall.

“Thank you, I didn’t really want to be the one stuck doing it again” Seungcheol admitted, the alpha had been on perimeter duty for the past 3 nights and must have been eager for a good night’s sleep. Mingyu smiled and nodded his head a few times, his own wants would just have to be paused for a little while.

Before leaving the room Seungcheol patted him on the shoulder, yawning a little bit as he headed toward what Mingyu assumed was his own room. Mingyu was thankful that Seungcheol’s parents had left him their families pack house. Coming from a family of alpha’s certainly had its perks, and it meant they all got their own rooms.

Once Seungcheol was gone he checked the time, he had roughly 4 hours before he would have to head out.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I just don’t understand what this trend is supposed to be” you complained to Ciri for probably the 20th time over your video call. Apparently, there was a trend going around among streamers to recreate video games in real life. You hadn’t thought much of it when it first gained popularity, but now Ciri thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to join in on it. Her big plan was a two-part video where the two of you recreated iconic aspects of the Witcher 3 video game. You should have known she would want to do it, she already owned a Cirilla cosplay.

“It’s going to be fun” Ciri reminded you, drawing out the last syllable as she drew a fake scar along her face, effectively transforming herself into the iconic video game character.

“Come on, I even sent you the Yennefer cosplay and everything!” she exclaimed, using her make up brush to point at the camera accusingly. You rolled your eyes as you reached up to adjust the dark black wig that you now wore. To her credit, Ciri had sent you everything you would need to transform yourself into Yennefer of Vengerberg. How she somehow guessed your sizing right you would have no idea. Probably the Witcher powers.

“I wish we lived in the same city” you sighed, leaning your head back and looking up at the ceiling. Things would be so much easier if you and Ciri, and the other girls, didn’t live so far away from one another. But that was the price you paid for finding your friends online.

“Me too” Ciri said with a gentle sigh, setting her make up tools down and picking up her phone, her face coming into full view.

“I sent you the script, I won’t be able to stay on the call with you while we are filming because data rates are crazy, but I know you’ll do amazing” Ciri said with a reassuring smile. You would have to film all of this on your own, which was just a little bit intimidating. Ciri’s script mostly just directed you to do a lot of handwaving and she would add in the ‘magic’ elements later.

“Just find a good spot in the woods and it’ll be perfect” Ciri finished with a nod of her head. You sighed, straightening yourself up and looking down at your phone.

“I’ll call you later on when I’m finished to send you the video” you mumbled, pouting a little bit as you stood and picked up your phone.

“Good luck!” Ciri told you, waving a little bit before ending the call. Great, now you actually had to go do it…

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were lucky there was quite a bit of woods around where you lived, the problem was going to be trying to get to the woods without anyone seeing the ridiculous clothes you were wearing. You threw on a huge coat, effectively covering up most of the costume. After grabbing the bag with your equipment, you ventured outside, keeping your head down as you walked to avoid drawing attention.

Twenty minutes later you were standing in the middle of a beautiful calm forest. Now that you were here you questioned why you didn’t come out here more often. You couldn’t hear the loud noises that came with living in a bustling city and the air felt fresh on your face. Once you reached a small clearing by a river you laid your things down and took a deep breath, basking in the coolness of the air. Maybe this trend wouldn’t be so bad.

After setting up your camera in a place you were at least half sure wouldn’t result in it falling over, you walked into frame and took a deep breath. You briefly checked your phone to see what Ciri’s notes asked of you, before you began doing your best to follow directions. Your portion of the video wouldn’t be long, but you did re-film it 4 times to try and get your motions to be less stiff.

After forty-five minutes of waving your arms around, you walked back to your camera, picking it up before taking a seat on a nearby log. Reviewing the footage, you winced at how awkward it looked, you seriously hoped that Ciri could work some magic on this because you didn’t have it in you to film it again.

The forest around you was darkening as the day began to draw to a close, but you couldn’t bring yourself to head back right away. The forest was too peaceful and serene. Reaching up you pulled your wig off, stuffing it in your bag as you sighed with relief. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, focusing in on the sounds of nature around you. Maybe coming to the woods would become a weekly thing for you, like therapy.

A low deep growl broke you out of your trance, your eyes flying open and flickering around to find the source. Your heart hammered against your chest, and your whole body stiffened in fear. A few moments later a dark black wolf emerged from the trees, larger than any wolf you had seen on tv. You could vaguely see blood dripping from its muzzle, and its dark red eyes were focused right on you.

It paused at the edge of the clearing, its lips pulling back to reveal sharp blood-stained teeth. Your breath came quick as you leaned back, unsure if you should run or try and hide behind the log. Both seemed unhelpful in this current situation, but you were really low on options.

The wolf’s body tensed before springing toward you. Your hands instinctively grabbed whatever was nearest to you, which happened to be your very expensive camera, and threw it toward the wolf. This did nothing to deter the predator from its prey, and within seconds the beast was on you.

[hufflautia]

Where it all started [Part 1]

Chapter 1 

Sometimes links don’t appear on posts. if you can’t see the link to “Chapter 1”, my masterlist is pinned to the top of my blog, and you can find it there.

Summary: Slytherin’s parents have another argument, but at this point, no one’s surprised. After all, they’re her parents. It would be abnormal if they didn’t argue. However, this one’s a biggie. The fight ends with the slam of a door and her dad packing his bags into the car and getting ready to leave. Desperate for him to come back, Slytherin’s mom forces her to go to him with a message that will surely make him stay. Buckle up folks, for this is where it all began. 

Slytherin stood on the sidewalk as she watched her dad pack up his things into the van. 

She dug her fingernails into her arm, her heart stinging with ache as her dad turned around with a smile on his face, a failed attempt to reassure her that it was going to be ok. It was all gonna be ok. After all, this was normal, right? It’s not like it was unusual that her dad was leaving again to go back to Florida, where the homewrecker waited for him, her outstretched hands eagerly opened up to him and his credit card. 

However, this was the first time he left abruptly. A spike of sorrow stabbed at Slytherin’s heart as she thought back to the sound of her parents’ door abruptly opening; soon after, she could hear angry stomps that quickly descended down the steps of the staircase. 

She could almost hear the hiss in her ear as she stood in the archway of the living room, watching her dad leave in the far distance. “Tell him that Ravenclaw’s crying,” her mother spat, pushing her towards the front door. “Quickly, before he leaves!” 

Slytherin internally sighed. How typical. Instead of resolving their relationship issues by going to couples therapy, her mom decided to throw all those burdens onto her daughter, who had already grown tragically used to being used as her puppet. 

She decided not to argue against going after her dad and trying to guilt-trip him into staying home as her mom wanted. Otherwise, she would be lectured on how she’s selfish and wouldn’t do this small thing for her mom, how she’s basically ruining this family by letting her dad leave, how family is so fucking important and manipulating her dad into staying would be vital to their happiness as a whole, how family this and family that. 

You get the point. Slytherin certainly did. That’s why she was currently standing awkwardly behind her dad, staring at his back as he lifted boxes into his car. 

“Um, Raven…” She paused. Her throat felt dry and tight. Swallowing with difficulty, she tried again. “Ravenclaw’s crying.” 

It wasn’t the crying itself that mattered. That wasn’t the main reason why her mom rushed her out the door to deliver the message to her dad. It was simply the fact that it was Ravenclaw who was crying. Let’s just say that he and his dad had a complicated relationship. 

Things were never the same between them after Ravenclaw sent an angry message to him via text when he was in Florida a year ago. The contents of the message reeked of disdain for his constant infidelity. When his mom found out, she shoved the phone into Slytherin’s face in the dead of night and asked if she knew about this. The glaring light from the screen nearly blinded her. 

Slytherin read the text messages through squinted eyes and could make out a few curse words here and there. Though she was slightly disoriented from the sudden ambush of information, it was clear to her that her brother resented their dad for what he did.  

That made Ravenclaw’s anguish even more useful in their mom’s opinion. Seeing the tears streak down his face when he heard that his dad was leaving again, she had a glorious idea. Perhaps if her husband knew of their son’s sorrow, he would reconsider his abrupt departure. After all, it was Ravenclaw who was crying. 

If it were Hufflepuff, that would be understandable—she can get quite emotional sometimes. But it was Ravenclaw, who was usually guarded and distant. One might suggest that he was secretly broken inside. But that’s not the point, at least not in his mom’s opinion. The main thing she was concerned about was that she could use his misery to her advantage! Maybe if her husband knew of his sadness, he would feel guilty enough to stay behind. After all, if his son, who despised him, was upset over his departure, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to stay home and endure his wife’s temper for a little while longer. 

Slytherin’s words did produce somewhat of a reaction. Her dad didn’t turn around for a while, but when he did, his eyes were slightly red and puffy. It was evident that he was trying to hold back his tears. One might think that this means that he’ll stay. He seemed distraught over the news that his son was crying because of his leave. Surely, he’ll stay, right? 

It wasn’t enough. Nothing ever seems to be enough.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” He hugged her briefly and gave a light squeeze as a sign of reassurance. As a silent message that it was going to be ok. Even though everything was most definitely not okay. A thousand hugs and gestures of reassurance wouldn’t change this. 

Slytherin didn’t react angrily to his refusal, the unspoken declaration of No, I will not go back home. In fact, it seemed as if she didn’t react at all. However, if one were paying close attention, they would notice the sparkle in her eyes dim. But maybe there wasn’t a sparkle to begin with. She had been enduring this shit for so long that she forgot what it was like to be normal, to feel like the white kid you see in commercials, the one who seemed to radiate mirth, a type of energy that said, I don’t have a care in the world because life is so fucking great and I can’t stop smiling. She didn’t even bother to smile, a common facial expression when one is in a difficult situation and tries to diffuse the somber atmosphere by slapping a facade on their face, the corners of their lips upturned to form a grimace that resembles some sort of a smile—a twisted kind of smile, that’s for sure. Why should she pretend that everything was okay when it wasn’t? Instead, she merely nodded in response. 

When her dad pulled away to pack the last box into the trunk, she took a deep breath to diminish the familiar sense of abandonment that flooded her senses, to clear the warning signs that flashed in her mind. He’s leaving! Your dad is leaving! He’s abandoning you again. You’re apparently not important enough for him to stay. 

She stared at the ground, only looking up when she heard the sound of a car door slamming shut. The resounding click was all it took for the waterfalls to finally pour from her eyes, for it was at this moment when she realized that this was actually happening. This was no dream—it was reality. Her sad, devastating reality. Tears blurred her vision as she watched the car drive away, leaving her in the dust. 

Slytherin gasped in erratic breaths between her broken sobs as her eyes hung onto the tiny speck that resembled her dad who was driving 

away, 

away, 

and a-w-a-y.

Through the jumble of thoughts that clashed in her head, one thing was clear. Her dad was her dad, but only sometimes. 

Tears streaking down her face, she tried to soothe her pain with the belief that he would be back soon. If only she had known that it would be a while before he returned. If only he hadn’t left. Perhaps things would’ve been different for her if he stayed, for this was where it started. 

This marked the beginning of it all.   

Comments and reblogs are a writer’s gold!

MASTERLIST ; sometimes links don’t appear on posts. if you can’t see the link to “MASTERLIST”, the masterlist itself is pinned to the top of my blog. check it out if you haven’t already! 

Author’s note: HI! Were you surprised to see that I posted two fics in a row?? I hope you enjoyed this. Most of it was unfortunately based on what happened to me a year or two ago. I based Ravenclaw on my brother, who did actually cry when my dad was leaving after an argument, and yes, my wack mother did force me to run after my dad to tell him. One of the few differences is that I’m not a drug addict and I’m fine now so dont worry. 

Idk how I feel about this series, it is a lot darker from what I usually write. I know I’m gonna have to write more for creative writing class, so maybe i will continue it. I will try to think of how to turn these fics into something more positive, because this stuff is very heavy and depressing. however, that will be a little difficult because the plot itself is naturally drab. however, i will try to think of a happy ending for Faye/Slytherin. 

Shall we look at some wholesome pictures? 

lmaoaoa i pasted this picture from the internet and tumblr glitched and pushed the pic all the way to the top. imagine seeing this dog at the beginning of the fic, that would be funny :’) 

AWWWWWW I THINK THIS MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE

ok hold up i just realized that is probably a stuffed animal 😐 this is so embarassing lmaoaoa when i saw it i was like THAT IS SO FRICKIN CUTE

OK WAIT WTF NOW I THINK ITS AN ACTUAL DOG??? CAN SOMEONE HELP AND TELL ME IF ITS REAL OR NOT?!! at first, i thought it was real, but then i looked at the paws and it looked kinda fake and i was like this dog is too fluffy and wholesome to be real. BUT THEN I LOOKED AGAIN and i think the owners just put the pooh outfit over the dog?? what is going on with my brain.. but at the same time, its 2 am for me rn so maybe i should get some sleep BUT FIRST, LETS LOOK AT MORE DOGS <3 (lmaoaoa i feel like my friend would say “gosh ur such a hufflepuff” (menna im talking about u lmao omg hey gorl)) 

After seeing this gryffindor pup, i immediately searched up “dog costumes hufflepuff” lmaoooooo

OK THATS ENOUGH DOGS FOR NOW. Part 2 is coming soon. I already have it ready but I might not post it right away. 

That’s all for now. Be sure to let me know what you think. TOODELOOO!

TAGS:  @slytherpuff-shenanigans @lokijiro @xxkitsurikaxx @sara-is-boredd @skylee-skz   @determinedpines @draco22malfoy @pancakes-and-sugar  @casteel08 @indigosimon1998 @tell-that-to-my-feather @the-ugly-duck0 @prettyblueskylark  @okiguessimawitchnow @daisyinmyheart @peachyblue @korra4321 @shoyoockbby  @ravenflowersposts @walkinganomaly @parkerthemarker02 @hummingbird-hufflepuff @bumbblebeeeeee @luciferswife16 @iknow-im-cute @maisen98 @shadowsinger11 @tuonglam03 @fanfic-reblogger @mygc0re @rellasworld @sha3thehunter @croctusjuice @jadefox05 @d0uxs @charleii @kaylenthegreat @hufflepufflepukwudgie3897 @insertlongnamehere @trashpannda @ihate-myname @nowheredreamer @history-geek101 @strawberrypanda99 @nikkijovanic @hannanshi @sirenofthe7seas  @johannamariemst @badass-like-damon  @willow-salix @remmyswritings @x-whatsupdoc-x @dracosvftie @hitchhiker-of-the-galaxy @akerlizzie @thatfann @justanxiousme @another-witch @bucinjisung @elegantcroissantplaidpony @treefroggo @narritydream @hufflpuffles @adreameratdawn @leftpeanutturtleegg @turbulentbluebird5 @geekgirl69 @praiseourlordduck @quakemebacktothe50s @nomad-of-the-realms @stardustzainy  @theblackwolf21 @crakencc @introvertedrae @cryinbisexual @bojelina @cocoqueenstheword @manicpixiedreamtarot @velvetstrawberry @jxmpsuitx @simpering-simpleton @urfaveslytherin @asterinatlas @simpforkpop @pufflehuff929 @morallyambiguoussimp @applekenm @chunwest @oncergleekpotterhead @no1-importan @qiaopao  @dulduldoldul @schlongbottom @vickeyunicorn @peanut-in-the-goal @hufflepuffgirly @flvrqnce @nothingtoseehere812 @maxwellsgang @1d-killed-me @betacaroteno-lanudo @dragon-slayer-fairy1 @thatonebislytherin @dragonsandbread @justanotherperson @sophiexteresa @hmilkwhoney @writertwiddle @questionsbecameourocean @anomiatartle @coldsweetharmony @dont-hyuck @fixstationed @kindawannadietbh @trippy-morgan @xo-angel-ox @fangirlgeekandfreak @evolnura @mossy-axolotl @verylovelystars @boilyourteeth @megand2017 @malfoys-demigod @booksntings @joshirlangford @staymoarmyzen @poojxshxh @hedgepuffgirl @alverniaphi @verifiefangirl-mainblog @purpleskymalfoy @roxy3457 @rayanicaraynbow @jess-harrywars @starrysonic @tonksichu @lauxtbs @tumlbr-trasher @chelseasosa @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @swagangelhorsepickle @princessstoopid @pymmoon @emilyaneliperry @pond-waterr @pandapillow @saraleo95 @astrartss @trentalexanders @theoriginaljohnwatsonsblog @nevilletheplantboi @just--another--hufflepuff @yoongifiess @ajdqueen @annie-mcl @coloring-bud @majorfangirl37 @eatacrackerandstop @weasleytwinswheezes @imscaredofhorses @dontmindmeimjustabox @glitterykidlightmug @multi-fandom-nutjob @littleemotionalpanda @thewitcheswords  @blueberry-9-pancakes @worldsbestdilfbecky @qixnsriess @inexperiencedpotathoe @notsowiseravenclaw @captiniminnie @ruinyourface @da-fox-rangerrr @inkedintothepaper  @happy-puff @grandcyclecreation @dawinehouse @catiwisspuff​ @aasa2102​  @mae-25​ @sydthekidd98 @kokichismango @xxavaloraxx​ @iamahufflepuff​ @adoregin​ @sunnniiee @lewispoolerpayton @dumbbitch85​ @bumblebirbs​ @diggorycullen​ @protectorofsk8topia​ @silverhetdanes​ @zuko-28​  @beardedhumanoid​ @arianatorpotterhead​ @shipping-book-keeper​ @marvelenthusiast10​ @i-cannot-do-aesthetics​ @a-huffleing-lesbean​ @kaslec​ @hufflepuffwritess​ @mouthfacereborn​ @kodeinekissss​ @ihavenocontrolofmylifeeither​ @pinqgchuu​ @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum​ @clementines-x​ @stressy-depressy​ @sweetinvisiblewriter​ @absentmindeduniverse​ @asnowpuff​ @theofficialgaybestfriend​ @violayaxley​ @sunshinyyb @colettedelaurel​ @theoriginalsherlockholmesblog​ @i-have-a-bad-feeling​ @jpow345​  @gay-disaster826​ @bloodyxheaven​ @autumnpleaves​ @froggy-failure​ @toomanybandstocare​ @pink1babez​ @untitled-2424​ @sleepdeprivedgurl​  @chaseanders​  @wolfpack-arts-industries99​ @nugnugchick​ @queenofwordsandnerds​ @ganjeolhiddaeng​ @wordy-escapades​ @writtenfoxscreams​ @w0odr0ses​ @coolpetsmcubandit​  @crypticcandi​ @widowsgranger​ @fantasyprincess101​ @wiiltedflowers​ @aestheticworldd​ @miniaturefunnytraveldonkey​ @bucketofdeadroses​ @uwuplsh​ @softedits-exe​ @cel3stialone​ @sofiapeachyy​  @wanderaven92​ @eunnieah​ @marsupialsgotbloodyears​ @eurydicedior​ @neonuzumaki​ @uhhhem​

[littleghosth]

My Will is Mine, I Will Not Soften It for You [Original Short Story]

[Authors Note: This is my first time posting one of my original short stories! This is the first draft and was written for my creative writing course, and I was slightly held back by the word count. However, I am posting it anyways to practice putting my stuff out there!]

My Will is Mine, I Will Not Soften It for You

“You look too young to be a mother.”

I don’t why the other women always feel the need to comment. Perhaps it was my face. Maybe the way I dress? It could be that I slipped up once or twice, telling them my birth-year instead of my mother’s (bless her soul). Anger broiled in my stomach everytime I heard those words, but I ignored them. I’m above getting upset at meaningless comments. I look young, yes, but a mother is whoever knows best for a child.

“I’ve heard. Is that one yours?” I point at a rat playing with my darling daughter. The juxtaposition of such a precious young girl with some snotty toddler is amusing.

“She is!” The mother exclaims. “Is that your daughter playing with her? Oh isn’t that precious! Does she go to school here too?” Sitting at the same bench is not an invitation for conversation, but I don’t see any escape other than strangling her.

“No, homeschooled.” I avert my eyes from her, fingers crawling in my belly with each new question. I can feel the rays of scrutiny burning my skin. I tune her out as she prattles about homeschooling, opting to watch my daughter instead - I listen for minor disagreement or insults, and I watch for tiny hands around tiny necks. I have no idea where she gets her anger from, but it has cost her more than a few playground buddies. I could excuse it once, but after fifth I contemplated the impossible option of therapy.

“That’s my husband over there, the tall one. My name is Erinyes, by the way.” Oh she’s still talking. I smile and nod until I put a bobble-head to shame.

“Oresta.”

The conversation is killed in an instant. Through the air, bouncing from pocket to pocket, two blaring notes intrude the peace. My hand robotically moves to my empty pocket. The other mother clicks her tongue.

“Another amber alert?” Ah. Another. They’re getting desperate now. I stand the moment her eyes scan the screen.

“I’m not comfortable with my child being out with all these alerts of kidnappings. Elektra! Time to go!” I hold my hand out, and within seconds I feel my daughter’s fingers intertwined with mine. Erinyes doesn’t reply. Her brow furrows ever so slightly and my throat is filled with bile. Home is safe. As she opens her mouth to talk, Elektra and I had already began our trek towards the safehaven.

The walk home takes the two of us through the business district, and Elektra’s eyes light as the streets become the epitome of hyper-consumer culture. I beam at her with motherlike affection as she takes in the world like a newborn. She is a brightness in this cement hell, finding joy and beauty where I can see none.

“Can I buy that?”

“We need that!”

“I’ve been wanting that forever!” It came out last week.

“Forever!”

I remember when a week was a lifetime. When did a lifetime become a week?

“I’m sorry, dearest,” My voice strains as I pick her up. “Not today.”

“What about puppy? I remember long time ago we had a dog.” “Argos. You have a very good memory!” My family adopted Argos before I was born, I remember my father trying to put me on his back like he was my noble steed. Me and Elektra put flowers on his grave, Iphigenia Lilies I believe, after the funeral. Oh how she adored the old boy. She cried as the red and white petals made their final resting place, and mother had-

“There’s no place for a puppy, little one. You know the house doesn’t let us have pets.” Guilt gnaws in my stomach at the worn collar of her shirt, pulled and gnawed on and aging. No mother could doubt I let my daughter play to her heart’s content, the proof lies in the stains that a sink filled with soap could barely fade. “I promise that one day I will be able to give you everything you want, but that isn’t today. Not tomorrow, not the next, but one day.” My promise is laced with unheard uncertainty. No job, no benefits, no support. We stop at a window crafted only for the attention of children, and I let Elektra indulge. I stand with my arms crossed shield-like to protect myself from the inevitable judging stares. Who are they to judge a young mother? I am a perfect mother, better than they’ll ever be. How dare they? I look off down the street where we came from. Standing like a stone angel, my lips curl at the sight of Erinyes. And without her child? I scoff. What is a mother without her child? Shameful, that’s what. I would never leave my daughter’s side, just as she never leaves my side. To prove how much better than her I am, I take Elektra’s hand and push my way through the street. Why is a young mother subjected to such scrutiny?

The no vacancy sign pulses with erratic rhythm as my little family makes it home after a long walk. The sun kisses the horizon in the distance, Eos already painted the sky with her rosy fingers to create a picturesque backdrop for our drama. I place the key, turn it, and jiggle the handle for a few moments waiting for the handle to decide if we were allowed in or not tonight. Relief washes over me as the door pops open with a dying wheeze. Elektra skips into our room and climbs up onto the bed. A heavy weight rests on my shoulders as I’m reminded of our lonely bed and peeling paint. I turn on the television for my daughter, I value playtime but I need her busy, and sit at the table. The chair creaks and the table groans as I count the bills in my pocket. I glance towards the duffel bags in the corner of the room. I’m sorry, you’ll both be in use again tomorrow. I hesitate before standing up and walking towards my daughter.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t the life I wanted for you.” I press a kiss to her head as I whisper my lament.

“It’s okay, I still love you mum. You’re the best mom I’ve ever had!” She beams up at me. My heart warms, and then cools as knocking on the door announces someone’s arrival. I approach the door with suspicion, fear bubbling in my stomach. I open the door. Disgusting.

“Can I come in please?” I glare at Erinyes through the crack of the door. A terrible mother, and now a trespasser? Her hand catches the door as I try to shut it again. Her voice drips with desperation.

“Please! I want to help.” I freeze, rigid. “I know who you are.” Seconds pass before I relent.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m nothing spe-” I cut myself off as my family photo shines in front of my face. Me, my daughter, and my mother smile back at my grimace.

Young Woman Strangles Mother to Death, Kidnaps Sister.

Kidnap? What a load of lies. “I’m the best damn thing that has ever happened to her.” I jab my finger towards Elektra, who is still content with her little show.

“I’m not here to turn you in, I want to help.” Erinyes holds her hands up as if they could block me. “Listen to me.”

“Listen to you? Why, because you’re older? Wiser?”

“I’m the oldest child too, I understand! I don’t know the whole story but I know what it’s like to watch out for your younger siblings. But why kill? Why? Help me help you!”

“You understand nothing. She was mine to protect, and I did. Mom didn’t ever lift a finger, I raised her. She’s not my sister, she’s only ever been my daughter.” I enunciate each word as I struggle to contain the fire inside me. “I missed out on life caring for her, but when I would even think of telling my mom how she should be raised I got the lashing. I was poured into a crucible and punished for it.”

“I can help.”

“I don’t even know you.” My knuckles whiten. “Leave.”

Did you know that if you repeatedly press the power button on your phone, it will activate an emergency call? Of course I do, I’m twenty. The alert catches my attention, and I lunge towards her. My hands tighten around her neck, closing like a vice. She claws at my hands, scouring deep gouges with her manicured nails. Her eyes bulge as the air in her lungs finally start to become stale. It won’t take long now. Elektra continues watching her show, and Erinyes’ knees tremble. The blood pulsing against my aching hands roars at first, streaming to keep her alive, but it begins to slow. Her skin gradually cools. The body drops and I rush over to the bags, throwing whatever I can as fast as I can.

“Time to leave pumpkin, go get your toys okay?” We both move rhythmically, a synchronized getaway dance. I pull my hood over my head. I crouch in front of her and take her hands.

“You understand why I had to do that again, correct?” She nods in reply.

“To keep me safe.”

“That’s a good girl.” I kiss her head. Mother knows best, and I taught her well. We exit the motel, leaving the yellowing curtains dimming the blue and red lights in the distance. As I close the door, I don’t see those lights getting brighter.

[ivory-sunflower]

Arty Art Things ✨

Hellooo!

I've decided to post some of the arty things I've done either recently or in the last few years, well the pieces I'm somewhat proud of at least. All my posts tend to be a lot more wordy than they need to be but hey it's what I do here!

Conchúr White

Anyone one who's been on this blog for a bit will have probably have seen me talk about this lovely Irish fella. The pencil drawing is actually a year old as of yesterday, I only know that because screenshots of me flipping out about Conchúr following me on twitter popped up in my memories yesterday. I think I'd sent it to him at about 3 in the morning (I was not in a good head space at that point in time), so probably not what he was expecting to see when he opened his phone in the morning aha

The biro version is much more recent: I got bored while sat at my desk and doing research about university courses, saw a biro, saw my old drawing of Conchúr, had an idea. I revisited my GCSE art techniques and here we are. Again, I put this up on Twitter and now (at the the time I'm writing this) when you google "Conchúr White" it's the third top image of him which is a bit mad really. I think I spent all of about 20 minutes on Conchúr but another 45 minutes on the words behind him. The words are the names of the songs on his EP 'Bikini Crops', he doesn't just really love the idea of Channing Tatum driving him around at night in a daisy print bikini... Well maybe he does but what he does in his spare time is none of my business...

TechDif

So I mentioned that the pencil drawing of Conchúr came from a rough patch in my mental health and this one is no different! In fact this one came from an even worse circumstance so we love to see it. I had a bad, bad time in July and this started as a way of distracting myself from what was going on in my head. Without it, I can't honestly say I'd still be here so even if the final product of this had been a terrible mess I would still love it for keeping me alive. However, it did not turn out to be a terrible mess!

Now that the origin of this is out the way, where do I start with TechDif? Unlike Conchúr, I haven't really talked about them on here (unless you count one brief post about Citation Needed) before so I guess I'll do it here. The Technical Difficulties are a wonderful group of 4 British fellas who have had their fair share of fun online and even before. They did a radio show at university together, which went on to become their Reverse Trivia Podcast, later moving on to a panel show called 'Citation Needed': and a game called 'Two of These People Are Lying'. All of which I would thoroughly reccomend, they're one of my go to things when I'm having a rough time. All 4 of them are excellent! Tom Scott (red top, blue jeans on the picture) has his own YouTube channel which does content aside from TechDif. If you're quite nerdy and like science, linguistics, computers, or any number of other things you may enjoy Tom's channel. He is probably best described as "The Moderator" of the group, much like a tired teacher he tries desperately to keep everyone on track with what they're meant to be doing, but usually it does not end well for him. Then we have Matt Gray (space top, holding an ice cream) who also has a channel away from TechDif stuff, he does techy electronic things and has a series called 'Will it Soft Serve?' where he puts all kinds of strange things through a soft serve machine. Matt brings a very specific energy to TechDif and I can't fully describe what that vibe is but I love it. Matt and Tom also share a YouTube channel where TOTPAL is posted and they had a series called 'The Park Bench'. Moving on to everybody's favourite Gary Brannan: Gary Brannan (SATIRE hoodie, glasses) and can I just say, what a fella he is! He's just excellent! He is the one that will argue and rip into Tom the most (not in a malicious way) and hilarity ensues. There are some episodes where he is absolutely on it, getting all the points and others where he very clearly has no idea and that's where some of his funniest quotes come from. Given how badly I was doing at the time I made this, his response to it on Twitter was so so lovely. I specifically remember one tweet where he said I'd made him happy and although it was probably a flippant comment, it just made feel alright for a bit. Yeah I might be feeling awful right now, but I've made someone else happy so that's a nice feeling. Then last but certainly not least, we have Chris Joel (buffalo check shirt, beard)! I would be lying if I said he isn’t my favourite... His sense of humor is the one I vibe with most, he can get rather dramatic in parts and can chat bollocks like a champion. He has absolutely no online presence away from TechDif and, like Rens from Temples, I fully believe he’s a cryptid and lives off in a tree somewhere. 

The picture took me about 4 days to complete, well 4 nights because I did most of it between the hours of 12 a.m. and 7a.m. - I remember watching the sun come through my window each morning. It’s made up of lots of little pieces, all cut out and stuck on; even the sky and hills are made of separate pieces of paper. Nothing was actually drawn on the piece of paper it’s all stuck on, it’s not how I usually do things but if I messed up one little but I could just redraw it rather than ruining the whole thing. The most tedious parts to make were Chris’ shirt because I had to draw each square individually and then join the as well, and cutting out the ban-hammer in the bottom right was surprisingly hard. Every single detail of the picture is a reference to the podcast/shows, I still have the plan sketch and reference list knocking about somewhere. I listened to a lot of true crime videos while making it to the point that certain parts remind me of different cases: the brandy now reminds me of Peter Tobin, and the big spiral thing reminds me of Tim McLean (very harrowing case) - sorry that fact is a bit morbid but interesting nonetheless. 

I did post this for a little bit back in July, but I received some rather awful messages so I took it down. Generally, Tom Scott/TechDif fans are lovely but there’s been a few that have taken a disliking to me for some reason so I’m hoping they don’t resurface again. I’m in a better head space now though, so even if they do I’m more equipped to deal with it this time.

Hozier

This was a quick sketch I did in April, I was getting bored with lockdown and decided to summon the bog man himself. There’s not really much more backstory than that, no poor mental health story, no fun twitter story - he’s just here. He’s vibing. I will say I’m particularly proud of his nose, I just think it’s one of the best noses I’ve ever drawn. His hand is okay, but I think that the hands on my Conchúr drawings are better. So there is the Hozi-Boi...

The Corpse Bry

I’ve talked about Bry on here before as well, I love him, he’s excellent, top lad. He is a living Tim Burton character, he’s 6′6, very skinny, and his legs are longer than my will to live. I was watching ‘The Corpse Bride’ a few weeks ago and suddenly had an idea and so ‘The Corpse Bry’ came to be. I gave him a little panda friend because the panda has always been his animal - he used to wear a panda beanie all the time and his album had a panda on the cover. Again, there’s not really a fun story behind this one, I guess it’s somewhat fun because it’s the first art I made after finishing my psychology exams in October so it was nice to actually have the time to draw.

James Bagshaw

Ginger talking about Temples for the third post in a row? it’s more likely than you think! I did this one last week, I’d had a bit of a wobbly day and had group therapy on Teams in the evening and I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on and I ended up doodling Mr James E. Bagshaw, the glitter crying fraggle man himself. It’s a bare-bones drawing that I could definitely work into more but I’m happy with it as it is to be honest. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit and add the individual bits of fringe to his jacket, just thinking about doing that makes me tired. Maybe I’ll get around to drawing the whole band at some point...

Alice in “Wonderland”

This one is from about 5(?) years ago, it’s not my typical style and was a “study” based on another artists work (basically i just had to copy this fellas work). I’ll be honest, this one has a sketchy backstory that I won’t go in to because it’s not exactly a nice one, and because of that I also won’t say who the artist is that it’s based on. Despite this, I’m still really proud of this one and I’m so sad that I never got this piece back after I got taken out the class. I’ve considered trying this style again, I’ve even joked about doing another Conchúr drawing in this style as a nod to my progression through GCSE art, eventually leading to Conchúr drawn in ink on music manuscript and stained with neon paint and dyes - it would be quite the project!

So this has been quite a lengthy post so apologies about that but life goes on. Similar to the vinyl post, I’ll probably add to this as and when I make more art. Even if no one is reading these posts, I’m enjoying making them so that’s the main thing. It’s just nice to document things and the feelings that go with them. 💕

~ Love Ginger xx 

29/11/2020

[artificialqueens]

Fool for You (Crygi) - Frankenvenus

After realising she has fallen for her straight best friend, Crystal’s therapist recommends she write her crush love letters. So instead of communicating her feelings, she scribbles then down and slips them into Gigi Goode’s locker.

A/N~ I hope you like this cause it took forever. I finished it super late at night and I did read through it twice but I apologise for any errors.

Crystal stormed her way into her therapist’s office, throwing herself onto the pink sofa that she sat and rambled on for an hour and a half every week. Her therapist looked at her bemused as the blue-haired girl uttered the words, “I’m in love with my best friend.”

Her therapist, Widow, huffed out a sigh, placing her clipboard down on the coffee table in front and pushing her glasses slightly down her nose, “Well. That’s a common issue for young queer folks like yourself.”

Crystal groaned and rolled over, displaying her puffy eyes and messed up bangs, “But I thought I was immune to it.”

Widow chuckled slightly and leaned towards where Crystal lay, brushing her hair from where it stuck itself in her lip gloss, “Do you need to rant to me about it? You know that’s why I’m here, sweetie; to listen.”

The young girl groaned again before sitting up, straightening her back and recounting the events of her day.

It had started off a normal Thursday. On Thursdays, she would usually peddle to her best friend Gigi’s house before school began so they could scribble down fake absence notes for phys ed, then Gigi would hop on the back of Crystal’s bike and they’d cycle the last half mile to their high school. It was routine for them. Never weird, never crossing any lines. It had always been the two of them, best friends, since middle school. So when things shifted, it took Crystal by surprise.

“I wanna do something different today instead of just sitting in the library until Phys Ed ends. I’m sick of the librarian shutting us up. We literally aren’t even loud,” - Gigi had said, fixing her dirty blonde ponytail in the school bathroom mirror after the bike ride messed it up.

Crystal had agreed with her, before asking her if she wanted to try something new. Although Gigi was her best friend, she hung out with the stoners whilst Gigi hung out with the high-fashion Instagram girls. The dirty blonde had never tried weed, and Crystal never offered - but today she did, and Gigi was eager.

The two of them snuck to the abandoned bike shed at the back of the school, covered in ivy with smashed windows. It was a spot that only Crystal and her friends Daya, Daegen, Lux and Tiff knew, so Gigi was curious to see it.

“This is so cool,” Gigi had gaped, finding a spot in the corner while her friend rolled her a joint. Crystal had to assure her multiple times that they wouldn’t get caught, but Gigi didn’t shut up until the sizzling rice paper was placed in her mouth. The older girl talked her through how to inhale it properly, and soon enough Gigi was coughing the smoke into the air.

“Can you feel it in your chest?” Crystal had asked, and when Gigi nodded, she said, “Good. That’s how you know it worked.”

They sat there, minds foggy, trying to hold conversation despite their thought process and immediate short term memory being cut off every few seconds. At some point, their pinkies intertwined, followed by the rest of their fingers. And then, Gigi was nestling her forehead into the crook of Crystal’s neck. That’s when it all tumbled down on the latter.

The contrasting feeling of the coldness from Gigi’s skin against her own warm, buzzing skin sent jolts of emotion through her, and the gentle brush of Gigi’s wavy locks against her jaw caused her heart to squeeze itself in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It didn’t seem too serious to Crystal whilst she was still in her high, but when the effects of the weed began to fade by fifth period, the sudden feeling of need for her best friend’s touch remained in place.

Her mind kept travelling elsewhere during fifth and sixth period, which happened to be double Spanish. Jaida had to pinch her multiple times, bringing her back down to Earth. Jaida didn’t question Crystal’s behaviour too much though, because the latter wasn’t usually focused in Spanish class anyway, and that’s why she was failing.

Gigi had debate team practice after school on Thursdays, so instead of going home together the same way they would travel to school, Crystal biked alone. She had her earplugs in, blasting Clairo like usual and wondering what the hell it was that she felt today. It wasn’t until ‘Sofia’ by Clairo came on did everything click in her mind. Something about the lyrics ‘Standing here alone now, think that we can drive around, I just wanna say how I love you with your hair down’ made her realise that oh, she wanted to be able to call Gigi her own, and not just platonically. Then she almost crashed her bike.

She swerved into a fire hydrant, gratified that her bike sported thick mountain bike wheels to soften the hit. Luckily, she didn’t fall off - she just got a fright. She decided to walk her bike the rest of the way home, which thankfully wasn’t far.

When she reached home, she spread herself across her bed and allowed herself to make connections that she should’ve made before. Why else could she never take her eyes off Gigi’s plump lips? Why else did people at school assume they were a couple because they were so touchy all the time? Why else did she feel such tremendous jealousy whenever Gigi showed even the tiniest bit of romantic fondness towards someone that wasn’t her.

Her mom knocked on her door, reminding her that she had her therapy appointment in an hour, and that led back to the present.

“That seems like quite the epiphany,” Widow smiled warmly, passing Crystal a tissue box when tears began to spill over, “Normally falling for a long-term best friend is something that you realise over time, but not for you apparently.”

“I think maybe I’m just an oblivious fuck,” Crystal sniffled. “But even if I realised it today, years ago, or tens of years from now, she still wouldn’t like me back.”

“Well, I’m not your friend’s therapist, but we can’t be so quick to assume.”

“Once you see the girl, you’ll know. She’s a hardcore ten. I’m a five, at best.”

“Crystal, remember what we went over…” Widow began, and the blue-haired girl finished the sentence.

“…Instead of self-deprecation, tell yourself you’re the best person ever, no matter whether you believe it or not - yeah, I get it,” Crystal rolled her eyes, “It’s just hard when you know it’s not true.”

“Well, I have a little tip I give my clients when they’re in a similar situation to you. The whole unrequited love thing,” the older woman got up from her seat and walked towards a cabinet, pulling out a packet of fresh, plain envelopes, “I usually tell them to write their crush love notes. It’s up to them whether they send them or not, or whether it’s anonymous or not, but they can be very therapeutic when needing to express bottled up emotion. Do you see where I’m coming from?”

Crystal raised a brow and tilted her head to the side slightly, the hint of a smile on her lips. She actually didn’t mind the idea.

“That’s actually super cute,” she giggled, taking the stack of envelopes from her therapist, “Thank you.”

.

As soon as Crystal got home, she sprinted to her room and grabbed an old notebook from the back of her stationery drawer. It was a plain A5 paper notebook, but spread across each page was a ginormous red opaque One Direction logo. Crystal had got it for Christmas about a decade ago, but it had only been used a handful of times for random sketches and one draft of a Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles fanfiction.

She grabbed an ink fine-liner from her art pot which she would normally use for her pointillism artwork and began the first letter.

You don’t know who I am. Well, you do but like, not who is writing this. I hope you aren’t scared or anything - cause that’s the last thing I wanna do. I promise I’m not a freak. Well, I sorta look like one but, I know you aren’t one to be bothered by that kind of thing. It’s beautiful, you know. The way people look at you and assume you’ll hate them for who they are cause you’re so pretty and popular, but then you’re just as wonderful on the outside as you are within. That look on your face when you meet a new person drives me nuts. The way you look like you’ve swallowed the sun. Radiant. Always.

Sometimes I wish I could just tell you how I feel about you to your face, but I think you might faint out of disgust. You do that a lot. I sound like a stalker, but I promise I’m not. I think I’m just smitten.

She finished the letter, reading it over to make sure her handwriting looked unrecognisable. Although Gigi wasn’t the most observant person, she and Crystal were so familiar with each other that she was bound to notice her unique handwriting. She also made sure to spray it with an old perfume that she never wore, so Gigi wouldn’t connect their scents. Gigi always made comments about how she loved Crystal’s perfume, so the blue-haired girl had to take precautions. Her strong scent of cocoa and vanilla was bound to rub off on the paper, so she sprayed it with a men’s cologne that she had likely shoplifted years prior, spraying it onto the paper from a distance.

Although Widow had given her the option not to post the letters, Crystal felt like the weight of her crush wouldn’t be eased unless she actually posted it. So, she placed it into the envelope and slipped it into Gigi’s locker the next day at school when the blonde wasn’t around, her heart pounding in her ears with anticipation and verve.

She sat through her first class of the day, social studies with Daya, desperately trying to take her mind off the painful wait. Daya ranted to her about dinosaurs and how everyone’s perception of how they looked was wrong, but Crystal hardly paid attention. She would nod every so often, just so Daya wasn’t insulted, but she wasn’t really in the conversation.

After social studies, she shared a free period with Gigi. She made her way to their meeting spot in the library after the bell dismissed them from their first period, and sooner than she would’ve liked, Gigi was marching across the library towards her with the smuggest grin on her face.

“Oh my God Crystal Elizabeth you will never guess what I just found in my locker,” she squealed as quietly as possible, sliding into the seat opposite Crystal’s.

“What?” Crystal raised a brow, her mouth full of skittles. Now here was the hardest part - pretending to be shocked.

Gigi reached into her blazer pocket and pushed the familiar envelope towards the older girl, who plastered a confused look on her face. The dirty blonde gestured for her to open it, so she complied. She pulled out the letter that was already likely covered in her own fingerprints and unfolded it with a faux-expression of excitement.

“What the fuck is this?” she chuckled, trying to suppress the shake in her fingers as she held the letter.

“A letter. From a secret admirer,” Gigi beamed, placing her beautiful shaped chin into her palm and flashing her angelic white teeth. Wow, Crystal was more whipped than she thought.

“This is so dumb,” she lied blatantly, and to her surprise, Gigi frowned.

“You think so? I think it’s so sweet. And shit… whoever wrote it has a way with words,” she exhaled, tugging her plump, peachy lower lip between her teeth.

Crystal’s breathing hitched and she felt her skin redden. She assumed Gigi would find it painfully corny, but it seemed like she felt the opposite. The blonde promptly took the letter back from Crystal’s grasp, taking a look at it once more. The older girl wished she was imagining the blush that began to cover Gigi’s face, but it was definitely there.

“I hope they write again. I wanna play Nancy Drew,” Gigi smiled sheepishly, taking Crystal’s hand suddenly, “Will you help me, you know, try and crack the code?”

“Sure!”

Fuck. Crystal felt like Hannah Montana.

.

They spent Saturday together, drinking on Crystal’s roof and gossiping about their own respective friend groups, however, the conversation kept moving back towards the letter. Gigi was conflicted on whether or not she knew the person, but her repetitive use of he and him pronouns when she referred to the secret admirer caused Crystal’s blood to simmer.

When Gigi left the next morning after spending the night on Crystal’s couch, the blue-haired girl was quick to begin her second letter.

I hope these letters haven’t made you uncomfortable in any way. The look on your face when you read it tells me they haven’t though. What I want to tell you though, is that I’m not what you think. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not a boy. I’m a girl. I don’t know if you like girls. If not; I’m sorry, but if you do; so do I. I like you a lot. All I want is to make you smile.

She spent Sunday at the skatepark, smoking with Daya, Daegen, Lux and Tiff, before slipping the note into Gigi’s locker first thing on Monday morning. The two of them, as well as Gigi’s friends Nicky and Jaida, all shared music class first period of Mondays. Whilst Crystal was pulling her viola out of its case, Gigi suddenly began dangling the envelope in front of her nose.

“Another one!” Gigi grinned, her voice cracking with adorable excitement. She took a seat beside Crystal and opened it. “I haven’t read it yet.”

Crystal watched her friend’s face with anticipation whilst she read the letter aloud, quiet enough that surrounding people wouldn’t hear. Gigi’s eyes widened as she read it over, and her grin faltered into an unreadable expression.

“What does it say?” Crystal questioned nervously.

“The person who wrote it isn’t a guy,” Gigi sighed, scratching the top of her head, “It’s a girl.”

The tanned girl pursed her lips, not knowing what to say next.

“Wow, uh. So… what do you think about that then?” she queried stupidly.

“About what?”

“You know… a girl liking you…”

The blonde crossed her legs and looked away from Crystal, “A pair of tits isn’t gonna stop me from loving this girls way of words. The anonymity is sexy. I should’ve known a man wouldn’t have the mental capacity to do something so romantic.”

This could not be real. Crystal felt like she was lucid dreaming.

“So you like… girls?” she pressed.

Gigi turned to her with a glint in her eye, “No gender or sex will stop me from wanting to kiss someone pretty.”

Oh.

“What? Are you homophobic or something?” Gigi added, and Crystal simply laughed.

”As if! Have you seen me? I think I should get ‘flaming lesbo’ tattooed on my cheek. I just didn’t know about you…” Crystal rushed out before she could even think about it. Never did she think she would come out in that way. In her mind, for most of her life, she had anticipated coming out in a very deep, emotional way - likely crying on Gigi’s bed. This was nothing of the sort.

“You’re a lesbian? Wow. I should’ve known,” the blonde simpered, and Crystal shoved her shoulder playfully.

.

When my therapist recommended I write these, I thought it would help me get over you, but fuck I think I’m falling harder for you. That floral outfit you wore yesterday was so cute. When you walked into class, it lit the whole room up. You truly are God’s favourite, huh? Just kidding I don’t believe in God, but whoever sculpted you took their time.

“Crystal look at this one! This is the most poetic piece of artwork I have ever read,” Gigi gaped, rushing towards Crystal after the latter had waited outside her human biology class for her.

The older girl took the letter and read through it, biting hard on her lower lip whilst Gigi watched with a smile, “It’s cute,” she said.

“It isn’t just cute! It’s… beguiling!”

“Do you even know what that means?”

The blonde groaned as they began to walk through the hallways together.

“I think you’re jealous because no one is writing you captivatingly beautiful love letters.”

Crystal shrugged and continued walking, eventually bumping into Daegen and going for a much-needed smoke. The blue-haired girl didn’t want to come off as cold to her best friend, but she feared that if she said too much, Gigi would make the connection. She smoked in silence, allowing Daegen to rant about her weekly argument with Daya that would likely be resolved by Friday. Occasionally she would nod, but she kept quiet.

It was surprising to Crystal that Gigi appreciated the letters so much. She thought the blonde would find them creepy and stalker-like, and perhaps fear for her own safety, but the opposite reaction was apparent. So now Crystal didn’t know what to do. Gigi was falling for her words, but she didn’t know it was her.

Apparently Daegen had been saying something because suddenly the girl was snapping her pink acrylic covered fingers in front of her eyes.

“Are you listening to me, Crys? I asked what you were planning on doing for Halloween this Friday?”

Oh. Crystal had almost forgotten that she had been working on her Corpse-bride inspired Halloween costume since July, putting her entire soul into the concept and causing her fingers to bleed with the many late nights of sewing layers of tulle. Everything with Gigi must have been really getting in her head - so much so that she forgot about the object of her whole summer.

She was too old for trick or treating now, unfortunately, but she had been planning to have a small get-together (edging on a party) with her remote friend group as well as others. Gigi had promised to attend, after spending the last two Halloweens with the popular kids getting shitfaced at college parties.

“Don’t you remember? I’m throwing a party. My dad is out of town for work and my mom is spending time with our grandma. The house will be empty,” Crystal grinned, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air.

“Crystal Lucia Elizabeth throwing a party? Who would’ve thought,” Daegen smirked, “Is Geege coming?”

“Yup,” Crystal said, her smile faltering slightly as she popped the ‘p.’ Daegen didn’t press on, so soon they were both putting their cigarettes out and heading to their next class.

Word of Crystal’s Halloween party spread like a virus, and the prominent conversation around the school was what everyone was wearing. Thankfully for Crystal, most of her friends were art kids, so instead of wearing a slutty (insert random occupation) costume, they’d all be wearing actual thought-out looks.

At lunchtime, Crystal and Gigi sat under the bleachers together, sipping Yakults and talking about their days. The blue-haired girl asked Gigi what she’d be wearing to her Halloween party, but the blonde wouldn’t tell her.

“It’s a surprise.” her eyes were glinting smugly. Gigi was a seamstress, and everyone knew it. She would create intricately designed, beautiful outfits and sell them to big names on Instagram. Crystal often wondered why she hadn’t just dropped out of school, considering it seemed like she had a strong career set in stone.

But oh boy, Crystal knew whatever it was that Gigi was planning to wear would sweep her off her feet. Figuratively and literally - she was quite clumsy.

.

I can’t wait to see you at the Halloween party tomorrow. I know you’re going to look ethereal. You always do. It’s so hard to look at you without kissing you. I don’t know why I would ever think you would kiss me considering I’m not even half as pretty as you, but I will continue to manifest it as long as you’re in my life. I think I love you.

“She said she loved me in yesterday’s letter,” Gigi shouted through the wind, holding onto Crystal’s waist tight as the latter peddled through the neighbourhood.

“Do you love her?” Crystal replied, thankful that her friend was unable to see her expression at that moment. She couldn’t think straight with Gigi holding her in that way.

“I mean. I guess I have to talk to her face to face. For all I know she can’t speak for shit in real life. She said she’s going to your party tonight. Maybe all will be revealed…”

Crystal breathily laughed out a response as she turned into the school gate. She knew she wasn’t ready to come clean yet. Gigi would simply have to wait another day.

The day passed in a blur. The girls skipped Phys Ed as per usual, but instead returned to the library again for extra revision instead of going back to the bike sheds to get high like last time.

Friday night took a painfully long time to come, but when it did, Crystal could hardly breathe the entire day. She managed to flirt her way out of sixth-period history so she was able to speedily bike her way home to make a start on her eccentric Halloween makeup. People were set to begin arriving at 9 pm, and there wasn’t much preparation to be done aside from throwing a couple of fake cobwebs around the place and placing stacks of red solo cups on the kitchen counter. Her makeup would take at least an hour and a half, so as soon as she got home she took a five-minute shower before beginning the look.

She painted her entire body a silvery grey before carving out strong cheekbones with black paint, giving her an undead appearance. She shaped her brows in a way that would make her look constantly mournful. She slipped her dress on, threw on four different silver necklaces, pulled her voluminous black wig over her head, and clipped the vail to it carefully. After admiring her masterpiece through her phone camera for a few minutes, the doorbell rang. It was Lux and Tiff, who had texted to say they were arriving early.

“Oh my God,” Crystal squealed as she opened the door, revealing the two girls. Both of them were dressed in beige prison outfits, and it quickly clicked to her that they were supposed to be Alex and Piper from Orange Is the New Black. “Lesbians, I assume,” she grinned, but the two girls in front of her were too busy gaping at her own outfit.

“Wow. You are Tim Burton’s wet dream,” Tiff said, pushing past Crystal and entering her home.

“No, I’m not. I’m not white, remember,” Crystal joked.

Lux had brought her large overpriced speaker to blast music. She heaved it into the living room and plugged it in, immediately starting to blast Stupid Love cause she was that girl.

Luckily for Crystal, her neighbourhood adored her. Her street was predominantly old women, but instead of constantly yelling at Crystal for dressing slutty, partying and smoking weed on her roof, they would simply envy her recklessness.

After an hour of pre-shots, people began to arrive. Most people brought their own alcohol, but it was clear that many of them were already drunk before they even arrived. Crystal remained in the foyer, leaning against the wall, singing along to Lux’s music and answering the doorbell whenever it rang. Every time the ringing echoed across the house, she’d subconsciously pray Gigi was on the other side, but for the first two hours, it never was.

Nicky, Jaida and Gigi all arrived at once, and Crystal felt herself get cotton mouth for a second when she looked over them all. Nicky was dressed in a basic white gown with her blonde hair down, however, she was absolutely drenched in fake blood and she wore a small prom queen tiara and sash. It was obviously a Carrie cosplay, and Crystal adored it. Jaida had her entire body painted green and wore a black catsuit over it, cosplaying as Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy.

Crystal complimented their costumes first, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Gigi. Her Halloween costume wasn’t as bold as they had been in the previous years, but there was something about it that took Crystal’s breath away. The blonde had her hair down and curled in smooth waves and she was wearing a loose white dress with a victorian-Esque corset pulling her waist in impossibly tight. She had dripped wax below her eyes, giving a crying illusion, and her makeup was a shimmery purple, making her look angelic. Yes - that was her costume - an angel. Strapped across her back was the largest pair of faux feather angel wings Crystal had ever seen. They were reminiscent of the ones a Victoria’s Secret models would wear, and they shimmered under the moonlight.

“Holy fuck…” Crystal blurted, before squeaking slightly.

“I know right? They’re so fucking heavy,” Gigi giggled before hopping in and air-kissing Crystal on each cheek, “You look so good, girl.”

“Thanks,” Crystal smiled, deciding that she would no longer be taking doorbell duty. She wanted to enjoy herself, so she walked through to the kitchen where Daya was doing body shots with some guy she had never seen before and promptly decided to join her.

Every so often, she would catch Gigi dancing and knocking things over with her wings. She didn’t mind if Gigi ended up shattering a vase. She would glue up every fragment of china for her.

After her second shot, Crystal made her way to the living room with Daegen to observe people’s dancing, and that’s when she saw them.

There was this guy from Gigi’s geography class that she never shut up about. His name was Toby, and he was one of those ‘hipster boys.’ He was a self-proclaimed feminist but probably cried about rejections from women on the internet. Every time Crystal saw his lanky frame enter a room, she felt sick and fantasized about decking him. There was something about him that was just so irritating to her, and every time he stuck his tongue out at her friend or wiggled his eyebrows like a fucking loser, Crystal wanted to cave in on herself.

And there he was, in her home, dancing with her best friend to ‘If You’re Too Shy’ by The 1975, grinding against her cause her angel wings were too large for the roles to be reversed. Gigi was biting her lip and grinning wide - evidently drunk - and she flipped her hair and bounced to the upbeat synth. Nicky was cheering her on from the couch, and Crystal wished she could just shut the party down. So much for Gigi falling in love with her words? Now she was grinding over some flimsy incel that looked like he would have to be pegged by a woman in bed.

It only got worse from there. The blonde caught Crystal’s eye and she walked up to her slowly, her hand still intertwined with Toby’s. Her words were so slurred that the older girl almost didn’t catch them, but she heard Gigi say: “Hey Toby was wondering if your bedroom was free? All the other ones are occupied but I’m desperateeee.”

Crystal had to hold back the mouthful of vomit threatening to spill from her lips. Gigi was so incredibly drunk, and it seemed like Toby was sober, so the entire endeavour didn’t sit right with her at all. She mentally cursed herself for being so generous, because before she could even register what she was doing, she was pulling a small key out of her bra and Gigi and Toby were rushing their way upstairs.

“Fuck, Crys. Have some respect for yourself,” she mumbled when she was out of earshot from her friend. Decidedly, she made her way to the garden where she knew Daegen was smoking with Tiff. She had to ease her mind.

.

“Fuck, Goode, you’re so hot,” Toby grunted, carelessly pulling Gigi’s wings off her arms. Gigi’s mind was hazy and she couldn’t think or speak properly, so she wasn’t able to tell the boy that the wings were handmade and extremely fragile.

“Thanks,” she slurred as he began to undress her, “Wait.”

“What?”

“Let me try and find a condom.”

She hopped off Crystal’s bed and somehow managed to find her way to her friend’s chest of drawers. She found panties and tampons among many other things, but she couldn’t find a condom. She reached the final drawer and frantically poked around for one. Then she grabbed something, and suddenly she sobered up.

It was a red A5 notepad with a black swirly binder. On the red cover, Gigi spotted five faces; Zayn, Niall, Liam, Harry and Louis. She chuckled slightly, before opening the notebook. Her heart dropped. If the familiar 1D watermark print paper wasn’t enough to make the connection, the titular scribble saying ‘Love letter for Geege draft’ at the top sealed it.

“Are you okay, Gigi?” she heard Toby ask from the bed.

The blonde paused and furrowed her brow, not sure what to do next. “Um. I can’t do this. Sorry.”

“But it was gonna be so good… You look so fine…” “Not tonight, Toby. Sorry.”

Her tone was serious, and Toby knew not to cross her. The boy watched as she pulled her dress and wings back on, and squinted his eyes when she saw a small red notebook in her hands.

“What’s that?” he pressed.

“Get out. Crystal wouldn’t want you in her room.”

After muttering a few disgusting insults under his breath, he left the room, leaving Gigi alone on her best friend’s bed with an overwhelming amount of thoughts.

Downstairs, Crystal had a growing concern as to where Gigi was, because she swore she saw Toby leave with another girl on his arm. Instead of being petty, she decided to be a good friend and creep up the stairs. To her surprise, her bedroom door was wide open. Upon entering, she realised it was empty. And then she saw the small A5 One Direction notebook wide open on her bed, and knew it was time to shut the party down.

It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get everyone out, but she was still met with groans of annoyance due to it only being little after midnight. Daya stayed back to help Crystal clean up, but the blonde knew something was wrong.

“Crys? What happened?” she asked, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Her other hand was occupied with a large bin bag filled with chip packets, put-out cigarettes and paper cups.

The small motion of comfort caused Crystal to break down, tears tumbling down her cheeks and creating streaks in her white face paint. Patches of caramel skin showed through as she cried more and more.

“No one… touched you… did they?” Daya questioned, dropping the trash bag and wrapping her arms around her friend’s waist.

“No,” Crystal sobbed, “I don’t really wanna talk about it. I’m fine. I just have to figure out a couple of things.”

“Do you need me to stay over?”

“No. It’s fine. I need some alone time.” The house was back to its usual state after twenty minutes, then D aya’s Lyft arrived and she left. Crystal found herself in front of her vanity, scrubbing at her face with cotton pads in an attempt to remove her many layers of makeup. She turned on her ‘Sad Girl Hours’ Spotify playlist whilst she cleaned herself up and continued playing it when she slid into the bath.

Gigi knew.

She couldn’t even think about why Gigi was snooping about in her drawers, she just knew that Gigi knew. Gigi finally made the connection. Crystal’s mask of hiding behind her romantic words was gone. There was no coming back from this. Part of her wanted to slide her body down the white acrylic bathtub surface, submerging herself in the water and remaining there until her lungs couldn’t function without another breath.

Instead, she simply sat there, neck and below beneath the steaming water, eyes shut. Her mind swarmed with escape plans. Would transferring to another school be worth it? Her current school was the best in the district. Should she give it up merely to run away from her problems? Should she face the issue head-on and talk about it with Gigi? Yes. Will she? Absolutely not.

She clambered out when the steam from the water began to make her dizzy. She straightened her blue hair every morning, but it had returned to its curly, frizzy state when it became dampened by the water. She rang it out into the sink using a hand towel, droplets of water falling from her naked frame. Everything was calm. The only thing that could be heard was the occasional sniffle - for Crystal was still crying sightly.

But, like all things, the peace came to an end when Crystal heard a clattering noise come from her bedroom. She yanked a towel from behind the bathroom door before hesitantly making her way back to her room, gasping when she saw someone climbing through her window. Instinctively, she grabbed a tennis racket that was hanging in the corner of her room.

“Jesus Christ - put that down!” the intruder gasped, and Crystal realised that it wasn’t an escaped prisoner coming to steal her and hold her captive in their trunk - it was Gigi.

Part of Crystal wanted to hit Gigi across the head with the racket painstakingly hard so the blonde’s memory would be wiped, forgetting the humiliating events of the day, but instead, Crystal just placed the racket down and covered herself tensely. She was still in her towel, and her hair was still dripping down her shoulders. She likely looked a mess, but it was too dark to notice.

“It’s almost 3 am…” Crystal whispered. Although she didn’t ask anything, it was clear her statement meant ‘why are you here?’

Gigi’s eyes trailed over to the blue-haired girl’s bed where the notebook still sat. Crystal had been afraid to touch it.

“Listen, if you’re going to ridicule me, do it on Monday, cause I’m too tired for this-” the older girl began, but Gigi stepped closer towards her.

The blonde had removed her costume and had her face now bare of any makeup. She was just stood there in black sports leggings and a pink sweater that was three sizes too large, swallowing up her slender frame. Her hair was damp and now in plaits, and her eyes were as puffy and tear-stained as Crystal’s, yet somehow still so beautiful.

“I’m not going to ridicule you, Crys,” she whispered, “I just wanna know… Was it you all along?”

Crystal didn’t wanna say it. Her body had never burned so bad, despite being bare and dripping with water. It was impossible to look Gigi in the eye, so instead, she looked at the gathering dust on the floor, gulping instead of responding.

“Answer me, Crys.” - she was getting closer.

“I don’t know if I can- if I can say it-” Crystal stumbled, her voice cracking under pressure.

Gigi stepped into Crystal’s bubble suddenly, reaching for the latter’s shaky hand. She took it in her own and pressed a soft kiss to it. “Don’t be scared to talk to me. We are best friends, remember. We vowed to always be transparent with one another - so I need you to tell me.”

After too long, Crystal finally met Gigi’s sparkling blue gaze. She swallowed back yet another lump in her throat before nodding. “It was me. I wrote them. All of them.”

The older girl swore she heard Gigi’s breathing hitch, but if the blonde was shocked in any way, she didn’t show any sign of it.

“I wanted to believe it was you, but when you seemed so disinterested in the letters, I began to question it. I never knew that you could write in such a way, Crys,” Gigi smiled sadly, reaching over to catch a tear spilling from Crystal’s eye with her thumb. The touch seemed to burn, sending electrifying sensations through both of them. “Did you truly mean everything you wrote in those letters or was it all a big joke to make me feel special?”

Crystal gasped slightly and furrowed her brow.

“Gigi Goode… You are special. When we got high during Phys Ed and you were all touchy I- I realised that I liked you. Even though it hasn’t been long since I realised it, I know my attraction to you has been there from the start. It started to become impossible to be around you without telling you how I felt, so I wrote it down in letters and hoped I could send the feeling away.”

Crystal was crying now - hard. She was a crier, and everyone knew it, but there was something about the quiet whimpers escaping her lips at that moment that took Gigi off guard.

“I wish you would’ve told me but, I can’t blame you. It’s terrifying,” Gigi sighed, stepping even closer. “I can’t even begin to explain how those letters made me feel, Crys. They made me feel like I hold some significance in somebody’s life. That someone might want me. That I am good enough for someone. You made me feel all that.”

In a bold move, Crystal was reaching towards her friend and tucking an escaped wisp of blonde hair behind her ear, “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t good enough, Geege.”

“Your letters made me feel so loved,” Gigi sniffled. “Do you love me, Crystal?”

Crystal parted her lips, her hand still lingering by the side of Gigi’s face. It was a make or break moment.

“Yes,” she breathed, and then Gigi was leaning in.

The blonde paused before their lips could meet, looking for a sign of approval in her friend’s eyes. Crystal nodded, and that gave Gigi what she needed to finally press her lips against the former’s frown. They instantly became so content like that, lips moving together so perfectly like they just fit.

It was so gentle, to begin with, Crystal’s hand barely touching the side of Gigi’s face - but then the blonde’s fingers grabbed the top of Crystal’s arm, pulling her closer and prying her mouth open with her tongue. Their lips shifted clumsily against each other, but it still felt so right. Crystal tasted like teardrops and pineapple juice, and Gigi tasted like mint.

As the kiss became more and more heated, Crystal figured out what to do with her free hand. She took Gigi’s hand and led her towards the knot that held her towel together, staring at the blonde with dark, lustful eyes.

“I want you,” Crystal said, like it was a promise, “I need you.”

“I’m yours,” Gigi replied, pulling the knot loose and watching as the towel dropped by Crystal’s feet, showing off tanned curves glistening in water drops, begging to be marked.

They pulled one another in once again in a knee-weakening kiss, their noses colliding with each other as the passion fogged their minds. Soon, they were falling onto Crystal’s bed, and Crystal was watching whilst Gigi undressed herself in front of her.

“Promise me we’ll do this, and then we will talk everything out?” Crystal asked whilst Gigi was pulling her leggings off.

The blonde pressed a gentle kiss against Crystal’s cheek before whispering, “Of course. I love you.”

While Crystal watched Gigi hook a naked leg over her own, all she could think was: Widow VonDu needs a pay rise.

[raysofcrosby]

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW – T. SEGUIN

"𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 '𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺'."  ─ 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐒

gif credit (x)

series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: just some swearing nbd

word count: 4,113 [ oof yikes ]

authors note: originally i was gonna turn this idea into a fic, but like...i have no energy for that. so if anyone wants it to, it can be a multi part series for seggy boy :)  anyway, stop by and request something or let me know what you think about this–– ok bye and enjoy!!

"Baby Benn, I need your assistance." You looked up from your Physiology book to see Big Rig, otherwise known as Jamie Oleksiak, or as you like to call him– a big teddy bear– make his way over to you.

"She's studying Jamie, what do you need?" Dave said, never taking his eyes off of Klingberg's ankle as he continued to tape it.

"What's more important? My deathly aching shin or this..." He picked the book up from your hands and lazily flipped through the pages, crinkling his nose in disgust. "This migraine-inducing book."

"Give that back," You said, standing up and reaching across the desk, taking your book from his hands. "This migraine-inducing book is what will get me my degree, which will hopefully lead to a job you teddy bear."

"Still didn't answer my question."

You sighed and marked the page before closing your book and standing up from the small desk. "Is it the same one?"

"Yup!" He smiled and hopped up onto one of the stretching tables, holding out his right leg. "So tell me doc, does it need to be amputated? Am I going to die of this killing pain?"

Before you could answer, he was getting smacked in the back of the head by a green resistance band. You looked over and saw Jamie, your older brother, rolling his eyes just as he tossed the band at you. "If you don't do your stretches it won't be the shin splints that kills you, it'll be me."

"Damn Chubbs, I was just playing," Big Rig groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You didn't need to almost decapitate me."

"Oh, so I can go back to studying?" You asked, holding out the resistance bands as your brother, Dave and a few of the other players getting serviced laughed. "Unless you want to write this paper for me after your game tonight?"

Big Rig rolled his eyes and grabbed the band, looping his foot through it and starting to stretch his shin. "You just lost your spot as my favorite trainer in training."

"I'm the only trainer in training, J." You reached out for the resistance band and made him take more into his grip. "Keep it tight and stretch slow. You'll get the most out of it that way."

Soft snickering behind you soon turned into a burst of laughter and you watched as Big Rig's attempt to hide a smirk, ultimately failed. You sighed and rolled your eyes, not needing to know who the laughter belonged to. "27-years-old and still acting like a pre-pubescent boy with an underdeveloped frontal lobe? Could only be you, Segs."

Tyler fake scoffed, bringing a hand to his chest and looking at you with hurt eyes. "I'm flattered you've managed to keep my age tucked away in that big brain of yours, but pre-pubescent? I figured baby Benn would have a much better insult than that."

"Oh, I have tons of better insults," sitting down in your chair, you picked up your book and smiled at him. "Just none that your baby brain would be able to even begin to comprehend."

His hurt look faded and he licked his top teeth, shaking his head and laughing. "You'd be very surprised at what this baby brain can understand."

You gasped, this time holding your hand to your chest and looking at him in wonder. "You mean that you're capable of having knowledge in anything besides Hockey and breasts?"

You heard the snap of Big Rig's resistance band echo as it flew off of his foot. The other guys stared at you in awe before laughing at Tyler. You raised a single eyebrow at your brother's best friend, daring him to snipe back at you. But when he opened his mouth, Jamie stepped in your vision, picking up Big Rig's resistance band. "Okay you two, stop bickering like some stupid lovesick teenagers." He tossed the resistance band at Big Rig and turned to you. "And please, I never want to hear the word breasts come out of your mouth again."

"I'm almost 22 Jamie, it's perfectly normal for–"

He held up a hand and shook his head. "For the sake of my ears, just...please, no bodily mentions. I'd just rather not have that in my head."

You sunk back down into your chair, as he went to grab a foam roller. Before looking back at your book, you peeked over the top of it to see Tyler stuffing a heating pad into his shirt, holding it firmly on his left shoulder. As if he could feel you staring, he looked up, resting his back against the wall and smirked, raising a single eyebrow before tapping his temple and mouthing "big brain."

You rolled your eyes and subtly cleared your throat and turned the page, using your middle finger that you made sure was perfectly within his line of vision. He laughed and covered it up with a cough before shaking his head and leaving the training room completely.

It was normal, dealing with the chirps of your brothers' teammates. You'd been around them for the last three years of your college education, only this time during your last year, you were working alongside them. It was a weird adjustment, going from seeing them in the corridors post-game, relaxing on the weekends at a bar to shadowing their athletic training staff during practices and games. When you mentioned your internship, Jamie didn't even bother to ask you if you wanted to shadow the Dallas Stars Athletic Trainers. Mainly because he knew you were too afraid to ask. So he just went up to Jim Nill and asked if you could do your internship there for the season and that was it.

That's how you got your internship.

You were grateful for the fact that your brother was able to help you get your foot in the door with this internship, which is why you did anything and everything that your 'bosses' asked. Whether it was replacing heating pads, washing the covers for them, changing the water in the heater– any grunt work, you did with no hesitation. And they appreciated seeing you so willing to learn what their day-to-day lives were like when they were on the job. Eventually, you went from doing grunt work to being able to tape up ankles, help with stretches, almost anything except for stitching. That, you weren't allowed to do.

The boys took you in as one of their own the moment most of them met you, your freshman year at SMU. It was easy to 'adopt' Chubb's little sister, as they so liked to put it. And the moment that you stepped foot into the training room with your official Dallas Stars polo, that's when the real fun began. Their jokes about you being 'Baby Benn' never seemed to end. You were often victim to their playful chirping and of course, they didn't bother to keep the language clean of innuendos are curse words. They knew that they didn't have to though, especially since you grew up with Jordie and Jamie Benn as your two older brothers. Not only had you'd grown up knowing what the Hockey atmosphere was like, but you could also give it right back to them.

And man, they loved it. Tyler, however, seemed to love it the most. Whether it was because he was Jamie's best friend or he just took a special interest in picking on you, you never figured it out. Besides Big Rig and Bishop, you were close to Tyler. Mainly, since he was Jamie's best friend, but also because of all of the ways he's helped you out in the last four years. He and Jamie moved you into your dorm room every year since freshman year. When they were on long roadies, Tyler paid you to come over and take care of the dogs, though you never took the money because playing with his three boys was like free therapy and his house was only a few minutes down the road. And if inclement weather forced you to evacuate campus and you didn't feel like staying on Jamie's fancy leather couch, Tyler offered you one of his many guest rooms. Though most of the time, you just took the couch at Jamie's.

Tyler may be your big brother's best friend so you've got to know him a little bit over the last few years...but if there was one thing you knew most about him, it was his womanizing reputation about Dallas. Hell, around anyplace he steps foot in. He knows he's a damn good hockey player, he knows that he's not exactly ugly and he's damn well aware of all of the women who'd love to say that they spent the night with Stanley Cup Champion, Tyler Seguin. And he doesn't care because like any 20-something male, he's getting laid and that's all that matters.

Which, you guess is why the two of you tend to butt heads and chirp at each other the most. You can't stand guys who bounce from girl to girl and he's just an ass. Especially since he always joins in whenever Jamie rags on your boyfriend of two years, Cole. For as long as you've been dating, Jamie and Tyler have refused to let up on the jokes involving his red-shirt senior status on the baseball team or his involvement in Beta Upsilon Chi. They'd always sneak in stupid frat jokes whenever they were around him, knowing that he'd probably never catch on. You couldn't rebuke them though, because well...Cole kind of was your stereotypical Frat bro. But you got enough of the negative comments from your dad and oldest brother whenever you were at home, you didn't want them to follow you down at school too.

Your ringtone blaring from your backpack that was hanging on the back of your chair tore you away from your textbook. When you put it down, you noticed that the training room was empty and their warm-up music was echoing softly from outside of the room. It happens sometimes, you getting so lost in your schoolwork that you just tend to zone out all noise. And you weren't needed out on the bench until game time anyway, so it was no wonder why Dave didn't bother to interrupt your reading.

You reached into your backpack and grabbed your phone, looking at the screen to see that Cole was calling. Pressing the green button, you brought the phone up to your ear and picked your book back up. "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey babe where are you?" His voice was being muffled by the loud music coming from his end of the call.

You laughed, turning another page. "I think the better question, is where are you?"

You could hear him talking to people in the background as the music overtook his side of the call. Ignoring it, you took a deep breath and sighed, re-reading over a paragraph. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything besides asking where you were."

The music and sounds of people mingling muffled on his side of the call, making it a little easier to hear him. "Oh I'm at the house, where are you? Are you almost ready to head over?"

Flipping another page, your focus starts to dwindle from Cole and more into your textbook. "Um, no? I'm at the arena for work."

"What do you mean? Why are you at the arena?" The muffled sound of music doesn't last much longer as it practically erupts through the speaker on your phone. He must have gone back into the pre-game.

You pull the phone away from your ear and check the time. Warm-ups shouldn't be ending for another five minutes, meaning nobody should be coming into the training room or the corridor anytime soon. You pressed the speaker and placed your phone onto the desk. "I'm working tonight, remember?"

"Uh, no? You never told me you were working tonight!" He yelled over the music, saying hi to more people as he traveled through the house no doubt. "You're supposed to be here in like, thirty minutes, Y/N. It's Beta Ball! You said you'd be here."

"Actually, no I didn't," you could feel yourself begin to get annoyed as you heard one of his friends offer him two shots. "I told you that I had to work. I even printed out a schedule and gave it to you, remember?"

The sound of him gulping down two shots echoed over your phone as he sighed in relief. "You didn't give me a damn schedule, Y/N."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were telling yourself to cut him some slack since he was obviously in the midst of pre-gaming. But another part of yourself just wanted to tell him you were busy and hang up the phone. Cole could care less about his schoolwork, only frat parties, preparing for his upcoming season and then getting drafted.

"I did give you a schedule, Cole. I gave it to you on Monday," you flipped another page, "which was four days ago."

The music started to muffle again, soon followed by the sound of a door shutting– muffling the music completely. "This party is a huge deal, Y/N. It's one of the biggest parties of the semester and if you're not here I'll look like a total fucking loser. It's the damn formal!"

You couldn't help but snort as his statement. "It's not the biggest party of the year, Cole. You're just drunk."

He must be stumbling around whatever room he's in because you can hear him bumping into things and stuff being thrown on the floor. It was surprising how bad his tolerance was, especially for being in a frat. "You're not even a real fucking trainer, why are you there?"

"It's my internship for my degree, Cole. Some of us care about getting a college education instead of worrying about what to wear to the next sleazy frat party," you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. "So calm down the roid-rage and enjoy your party of the year."

"Are you fucking coming or are you too busy being a bitch errand-girl for your brother's shitty team?"

"Jesus Christ, Cole it's not even a real ball!" You yell, just as the sound of a door opening and closing echoes around you. "It's literally that stupid party where girls have to wear lingerie and the boys just spend their time ogling over them."

A wave of green rushed into the room, coming to a stop at the table closest to me. They pulled their warm-up jersey over their head before you could even make out who it was. But the moment you saw the fancy script of one familiar Stanley Cup tattoo, you knew who it was. You picked up the phone, taking it off of speaker bringing it back to your ear as he continued to dress down from his gear. "What? Have you contracted an itch from all of the girls you've been seeing?"

Tyler looked over at you and smiled, shaking his head as he kept undressing. "Don't enjoy the show too much."

"Seriously Y/N, it's super fucked up that you're not coming tonight! You owe it to me, I'm your fucking boyfriend!" His slurred voice must have been heard from your phone since Tyler looked over at you again with a raised eyebrow. "If you don't show up, we're done! You can take your shit a-and get lost."

"I need service, please," Tyler said, taking your attention away from the phone call and hopping up onto the table in nothing but his pants and his pads. He was sitting up straight and had his hands in his lap like he was a kindergartner waiting for storytime.

"Sorry Seguin, I don't provide the kind of service you're used to."

He rolled his eyes and kicked up both of his legs, taking off his sicks and shin pads. "Not that kind, the athletic training kind." His eyes moved over to the phone against your ear and then back at you. "Or are you too busy?"

"Is that a guy?" Cole slurred, his loud slurping from his new drink grossing you out. "Y/N, who the fuck are you with?"

The annoyance from the entire phone call was bubbling up until you couldn't take it anymore. "Listen, Cole, I need to go," you looked over at Tyler, setting down and closing your book. "I'm busy."

"Are you at least going to fucking try and come to the party instead of wasting away like an old maid?" You raised your eyebrows at his comment, your inner voice telling you to refrain from snapping at him.

And yet, it was hard not to feel guilty since you knew how important these frat parties were to Cole. You sighed and stood up from the chair. "Maybe after the game, I don't know."

He didn't even bother to reply to your response and instead, just hung up on you. You pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at it to see that he had, in fact, hung up on you. "Rejection hurts, huh?"

You rolled your eyes at Tyler's comment and placed the phone back down onto the desk, then making your way over to him. "Is there any reason why you just performed a half-assed strip show in the training room?"

"Oh no, that's not my strip show," Tyler laughed, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. "You'd know my strip show if you saw it. It leaves the ladies dripping."

"Why? Because they pissed themselves from laughing so hard?"

In true Tyler fashion, he rolled his eyes and stuck his feet up at you. "I need my ankles taped and don't worry, Dave said you could do it."

"A little late there, don't you think?" You asked, walking over to the cupboards that held every material you'd need. "Or is the Tyler Seguins' supposed big brain, not able to support memory?"

"Yeah, well I got distracted by your brother and his fawning over Katie...again."

You laughed, taking the basket with everything that you'd need back over to the table he was sitting on. "Ah, so you've been caught up on the drama?" You grabbed a stool and brought it to the end of the table, resting a knee on it as you nodded for him to scoot back and extend out his leg.

He leaned back on his hands, watching as you began to tape his ankle. "At this point, I think their relationship history could give lifetime at least three new movies."

"Lifetime movies, huh? Didn't take you to be the kind of guy to tune in to those." You focused on going through the appropriate steps, keeping your eyes on his ankle. "Maybe Hallmark, but definitely not Lifetime."

"Wow, you know so little about me, I'm hurt. Besides, their 'sucks to be sixteen' marathons are great." He brought his right knee up as you tapped the finished ankle before moving onto his left. "Let me guess, you love the Hallmark Christmas movies and you've never missed a single one?"

You looked up at him for a few seconds before looking back down and continuing to work on his ankle, not answering his question. He wiggled his foot, causing you to look back up at him. "Seguin, I swear to–"

"Ha! I knew it! You're a total sucker for those cheesy, romance Christmas movies."

"For your information," You meticulously started to wrap his ankle with the pre-wrap. "It's a family tradition, at least between my mom, my sister and me. Dad and the boys wouldn't be caught dead watching those." You paused, smiling for a second. "Unless it's the Candace Cameron-Bure ones. Jamie's a sucker for those."

A comfortable silence settled over as you finished up his ankle. When you tapped it, he sat up and pointed down at the floor. "Can you pick up my socks? I don't want to have to bend down to get them."

"Why, is Mr. 3% body-fat getting, dare I say..." you faked a gasp as you bent down to pick up his socks. "lazy?"

"No," he swung a sock out at you, missing you by a few inches before bending over to put it back on as you walked over and placed some tape down for him to use. "So Cole..."

"Ugh, can we please not talk about him?" You groaned, putting the basket back into the cupboard. "I swear our that phone call gave me a migraine, so I don't need to hear your jokes."

"No, not that." he put on both shin guards before moving on to fixing his socks. "I just...does he always talk to you like that?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know, let me think," He put the tape down next to him before, getting off of the table. "Does, ‘are you fucking coming or are you too busy being a bitch errand-girl for your brother's shitty team?’ sound familiar?"

You stopped in front of the desk, looking at him and feeling your embarrassment start to take over. "Y-You heard that?"

He nodded his head towards the door and reached down for his skates, putting them back on. "So does he? Talk to you like that?"

You realized how cliche it would seem if you told Tyler that it was only when Cole was drunk, that he talked to you that way. But the last six months of your relationship had been a little hostile. Senior year was a pressure on both of you, but Cole seemed to be wearing it far worse than you. "He was drunk, what does it matter?"

"It matters because I have two younger sisters and I know for a fact that if one of their shitty boyfriends talked to them that way, he'd end up in an ER bed." He stood up off of the table and turned to pick up his warm-up jersey.

"Well good thing you're not my brother then, huh?" You joked, expecting him to make a comment back at you.

Instead, he looked a little lost in thought before he shook himself out of it, smiling at you. "Doesn't mean I still wouldn't put frat boy Cole in an ER bed."

You walked around the desk, plopping down into your chair as the murmuring of voices from down the hall echoed from the hallway. "Better get going, don't want to be late for the meeting."

"Yeah, I guess," Tyler tossed his jersey over his shoulder and headed towards the door, stopping in front of it. "Are you going tonight? To that party...with Cole?"

You looked up from your book, caught off guard by his question and the way he said it. For a moment, if you weren't convincing yourself that you were delusional. You'd think that Tyler looked...concerned or maybe even a bit genuinely curious about your nighttime plans.

You shrugged your shoulders, picking the book back up. "I don't know, maybe. There's usually some lingerie contest at this thing and the winner gets a $100 tab to some bar downtown, so maybe if I leave here in time."

You made sure to pay attention to the way he reacted to your response. His features darkened a little bit before he turned away from you walking out of the training room. You returned back to your book, only to be interrupted by someone clearing their throat. When you looked up, you saw Tyler leaning back in, a smile on his face. "Any chance I can get some pics?"

You threw the empty roll of tape on your desk in his direction and he ducked out of the way, laughing all the way down the hallway. "BYE Tyler!" You called out, returning back to your textbook.

As your eyes skimmed the words that your brain failed to absorb, a smile crept onto your face as you looked back up into the empty doorway. "No," you said, shaking your head and closing your eyes, following it with a deep breath. "No, absolutely not. Do not go there."

When you opened your eyes, a small sinking gut feeling took over when you looked into the empty hallway. Part of you wanted Tyler to reappear in the doorway with his goofy grin. But he wasn't there, and neither was his stupid request for lingerie pictures or his...amazingly stupid abs. What bothered you the most though, wasn't the fact that he wasn't standing there...but what he meant by his request.

Did he want lingerie pictures of the other contestants...or of you?

[viewfrommybroomcloset]

“Bien Dans Sa Peau” Weight Loss Spell Jar

Basil (discipline)

Bay (strength, protection)

Chickweed (weight loss, healing)

Dill (attraction, weight loss)

Juniper Berry (protection against illness and injury)

Japanese Hawkweed (longevity—can be substituted with dandelion as they are related)

Red sealing wax for determination and passion in your goal

I won’t write the full spell, as it was a very personal meditation, but I will emphasize that however you do your ritual, you build into your spell “healthy weight loss.” You don’t want to leave out the healthiness clause, because weight loss can occur through illness and injury (also why I included juniper berry, but use the words too).

I cast this spell on the morning of the lunar new year in February, weighing 160 lbs. I worked hard and stopped losing at 154, turns out I had some hormonal difficulties that needed to be fixed (I’m someone who can’t eat soy—AT ALL). After removing soy from my food intake, the weight loss continued (with less exercise effort and fewer sugar cravings).

The name “Bien Dans Sa Peau” means “comfortable in one’s own skin.” Because we all have images of ourselves we like and want, I wanted this spell to be more about self love and self care. Finding the peace in making healthy choices and being happy in the resulting weight. I’ve used this spell to both release emotional burdens that can sometimes make me find comfort in food and also in doing inner child work to inspire self love.

Like with any spell, you’ll need to actively help yourself along. I’ve been following the “French Women Don’t Get Fat” book—trying to slowly, gently lose some pounds after finishing with breastfeeding last winter. It’s a fabulous book, I highly recommend it. I learned so much of the things she talks about when I lived in France, but the recipes and personal stories were what drew me to reading it!

The basic premise is to eat more vegetables and fruits than anything else, but don’t cut out any foods (enjoy your chocolate, wine, and cheese like a French woman), but take portion size into account. Exercise doesn’t have to be in the gym—going for walks or a swim for an hour three times a week (I try for every day) is perfectly adequate for health. This spell jar acted as a talisman to help with cravings, reminded me to go for walks, and helped me resist overindulging.

I’m now down to 148 lbs in August and still feeling great. My spell jar fell out of my pocket a few weeks ago, so I’ll be doing a renewal on the next new moon, resetting my intentions. As a cottage witch, I like to grow as many of the herbs and plants as possible that I use in my practice. Make sure your herbs are fully dried, before making your spell jar, or they’ll rot!

Happy casting ✨

For my height, I, personally, want to be in a certain BMI and small, healthy YES HEALTHY, ways I’ve worked my way toward it has been:

eating more fruits and vegetables

Cooking more meals from scratch

Taking 30 minute - 2 hour walks most days (jogging when I feel up to it)

Drinking more water

Subbing honey for sugar in coffee

And taking the time to enjoy my food in smaller portions than I got used to doing while pregnant and breastfeeding

All of these are HEALTHY things to do to reach a weight/place where I feel comfortable in my own skin. This spell jar has been my reminder to put my health first over convenience, indulgence, and to stop using food as an anti-depressant (therapy is a good idea if you’re struggling with this). IT IS NOT WRONG TO WANT TO BE A DIFFERENT WEIGHT. Please stop projecting your issues onto my post. I want to leave the comments open for healthy discussion and questions, but will turn them off if need be.

Update: I’m down to 129 and am feeling so good about myself all the way around! I suggest adding in rose quartz and opalite chips and meditating on self love if you’re struggling with this. Consider building in a stress-free clause into your injury/illness clause too—just to be safe 💖

** The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.