#i stand by my point that they should've made the dinner with the family a separate mission

[glassrunner]

i'm never going to fucking get over how well-written judy is!!! god damn she really is the best romance in cyberpunk... the way she goes from completely believably skeptical and untrusting of v to depending on and loving them ;w;

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Symphony 🎻 | Rhaenyra Targaryen Headcanon

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

note: I wrote this because I want to be part of Rhaenyra's symphony 😩😉

Rhaenyra falling in love with a musician would look like:

The first time the Crown Princess laid on eyes on you was during her name day celebration. The king had called upon the finest performers, artists, dancers, and jesters in Westeros for the eighteenth birthday of the Kingdom's heir. You were part of a traveling music group, where you played the violin and were the lead vocalist. 

Immediately drawn to your captivating presence, Rhaenyra barely paid attention to the others in your group, and when the rest of the performers were brought on stage, her thoughts lingered with you and zoned out the rest of the celebration. Searching the grounds the moment the final performance ended to try and get another glimpse of you. When she finally did, Rhaenyra swore she'd never seen anything as beautiful as you before in her life. 

"Princess!" You abruptly stood from your chair upon realization the young lady was behind you, too emersed in the conversation with your friends until one of them cleared their throat with wide eyes and pointed over your shoulder. "My apologies I did not realize you were there." "Please, do not apologies, I should've announced myself. I was wondering if you'd be interested in talking a walk with me. I'd like to hear more about your music and travels of the country."

For an hour you strolled through the area reserved for the performers and vendors. Tents and stands on every corner. At one point you stopped to see the small animal enclosure with baby goats and cows. Rhaenyra learned you were from the Riverlands, and your family were nomadic. Traveling all over Westeros, from Dorne to Winterfell, at the request of lords and ladies to perform. The most recent journey before coming to King's Landing was High Garden to celebrate the knighthood of Lord Tyrell's son.

There was an evident spark between you two. You felt it. Rhaenyra felt it. The warmth in your chest spread each time you made eye contact, her cheeks flushed when you complimented her. She hung onto every word you spoke, and in return you observed her body language. When someone interrupted, there was visible annoyance where she pretty much pleaded with whoever to leave with her eyes, and dismissed them with a, "Yes of course, tell my father I'll only be a moment."

When the celebration came to an end and it was time for the dinner, the princess asked you to join her table. Of course you were surprised, and a little nervous, "My Princess, my thanks to you for the generous off, but I fear that would be inappropriate. I am employed by your father, not a guest." "Nonsense, you are my guest. I've said it--and it is my name day after all so it shall be upheld. Join me so we can continue our conversation." How could you say no after that?

When the day rolled to the next, you and your group were set to leave after breaking your fast, but as you loaded the carriage a guard rushed with a note and informed you the Princess had requested your group to remain in King's Landing and be the permanent performers for when the Royal family hosted banquets, balls, and tourneys with the promise of payment, lodging, and all the benefits employees of the Red Keep get. 

Yeah, you all accepted that without a second thought. 

To say you didn't miss traveling would be a lie, but you enjoyed living in the Red Keep. You were given food, clothes, money, and a section of the lower levels for your friends to live. The Princess called on you regularly, to play your violin or sing ballads while she either admired you from beside or read her books. Soon you two fell into a routine. Progressing as the weeks go by to moments where you broke fast together, strolled the gardens, accompanied her on trips around the kingdoms. 

Each time you performed, Rhaenyra sat as close as she could to the stage. Staring in awe as your fingers and bow moved graciously across the violin, your beautiful voice so enchanting it'd make the Seven fall in love, echoing against the walls. Eyes full of love, finding each other's with smiles painting your face. 

Unfortunately a union between you would never be approved. Not by the court, the country, or her father--no matter how happy you made Rhaenyra. She was the Crown Princess, the heir to the Iron Throne. It was expected of her to marry a nobleman, bear children, and take her place as Queen. You'd have to remain in the shadows. A secret to the people.

Of course, rumors spread of the tales between the Princess and her close companion. Most of them diminished upon Rhaenyra's marriage to Ser Laenor---which the three of you had come to an agreement that the two would uphold their image to the Court, but in secret Rhaenyra's heart laid with you--but even then, whispers echoed the halls.

She's sneak to your quarters in the middle of the night to hear you play when she had trouble sleeping. You gifted her favorite sweets whenever you went into the city. When she felt the threat of the Greens growing as her father's conditioned worsened, you joined Rhaenyra at Dragonstone. By then your musical group had decided to part ways, many stating they wanted to return to their homes and raise their families.  

Over the course of your relationship with Rhaenyra, you wrote many songs of her and your life together. She'd become your muse, the inspiration for your works. Sometimes you'd sing them for an audience, but there few reserved only for her ears. 

So when the decades passed and you two were lost to the Dance of Dragons, the songs of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and her violinist lived on. Passing from generation to generation like the songs of the Conqueror and eventually Jenny of Oldstones. People live and die, but music is immortal. And you had immortalized the beauty and love of Rhaenyra through your art. Making her part of a symphony. 

[mikewheeleranti]

potions troubles

ominis gaunt x reader

sypnosis- when making a wiggenweld potion with your potions partner, ominis, goes extremely wrong, and leads to confessions. lowercase intended, slight angst?, mc slander, tension towards the end.

wc- 627

a/n: send in requests 4 ominis or harry potter characters im so bored

“well, i must say our potion is utter rubbish.”

you scoff, “our? ominis, me and the textbook were both advising you the whole time that wormwood was not needed for this potion, and that it would turn out just how it is. brown and boiling.”

you get no response other than a grimace and a chuckle from sebastian’s station, conveniently placed next to yours. looking over to where he was, you saw him and the new fifth year and their potion-one that looked exactly how it should. groaning and looking over to the complaining ominis who seems to believe he should've just bought the potion from j. pippins, an idea you quickly shut down.

“that would be a bigger mess than we already have, you dunderhe-” you were quickly cut of by yourself gasping and the pot in front of you both violently shaking. you quickly brought the cauldron off of the heat and let it cool until it stopped shaking. panicked, you look at the clock to see that there are only 30 minutes left of class and professor sharp is coming over to your station. standing taller and leaning close to ominis to reach his ear when you whispered to him, you were desperate for any kind of help.

“professor sharp is coming, ominis.” backing away from him now, you could see a lingering tint of rose on his cheeks. this was a weird thought to have, it's ominis gaunt you're talking about, and you're sure he likes the new fifth year. but why did he still look flushed?

“ahem,” bracing yourself for lost house points, you turn around to face professor sharp, who continues, “may i ask you why your wiggenweld potion is burnt, brown, and almost just exploded?” right. you boiled the "attempt" at a wiggenweld potion, that's why ominis was red. not because he liked you, or anything of the sort-

"right, y/n?" you turned to look at ominis, realizing you zoned out while he was talking. "i'm sorry?"

"i was telling professor sharp that our burner malfunctioned and turned to a higher setting," ominis turned to him now with a charming smile, "which i'm sure my family can compensate for, professor." you quickly thanked ominis on your way out, knowing without him sweet talking sharp you would've lost house points for that screw up.

you were now on your way to dinner, laughing and making jokes with ominis on the way. your laughter quickly ended when you saw that sebastians new friend was sitting across from him, in your spot. you scowled and turned around to go back to your common room before ominis grabbed your hand.

"where are you going?" you truly didn't want to have to explain to him why you wanted to leave. it's petty to be so worried about one spot at a table, but it was your spot next to ominis, and now they would be sitting together. amazing, considering he clearly already liked them.

"the new fifth year is in my spot, and i wouldn't want to bother you two." you saw a confused look spread across his face, the one you couldn't help but admire any time you got the chance. "i mean, maybe you can even score a date."

"okay, what are you talking about? do you think i like them?" now it was your turn to look confused, "you don't?"

"no, y/n. i thought i had made it pretty obvious who i had feelings for." he stepped closer to you now, moving his hand up towards your neck. "i guess i should've made myself clear." he was now whispering into your ear, and before you knew it he was walking off with a smug look.

"hey, you can't just leave after that!"

[nj-6-girl]

The sun had barely risen when Micha made her decision. The previous night had been a whirlwind of emotions; her parents had flatly refused to let her pursue her dream of becoming an idol. Frustrated and determined, Micha quietly packed a small bag with her favorite candies and a change of clothes. She slipped out of her room and made her way to the family driver, who was already up and preparing for the day.

"Mr. Kim," she whispered, trying to sound as mature as possible. "Can you please take me to my grandparents' house?"

Mr. Kim looked at her with a mixture of surprise and concern. "Micha, it's very early. Did your parents say it's okay?"

Micha hesitated, then nodded, her face serious. "Yes, they did. It's really important."

With a reluctant nod, Mr. Kim started the car, and soon they were on their way. Micha stared out the window, her mind racing with thoughts of what she would say to her grandparents. They always listened to her, and she knew her favorite person in the world, her cousin Choi Kang, would be there to offer support.

When they arrived, her grandmother welcomed her with open arms, though she raised an eyebrow at the unexpected visit. Micha quickly made her way to Kang's room, eager to unload her frustrations. She found him sprawled on his bed, immersed in a video game, the glow of the screen illuminating his focused expression.

"Kang oppa!" Micha exclaimed, plopping down on his bed and opening a bag of candies. She popped one into her mouth and began her rant. "Mom and Dad said no to me being an idol! Can you believe it? They just don’t understand how much this means to me!"

Kang barely looked up, his fingers flying over the game controller. "Uh-huh," he muttered, clearly not paying attention.

Micha's eyes narrowed in irritation. "Oppa, you're not even listening!"

"Yeah, I am," he replied distractedly, his eyes glued to the screen.

Micha huffed in frustration. "If you don't listen to me, I'll tell Grandma and Grandpa that you skipped the family dinner last week to play games and visit your girlfriend."

At that, Kang finally paused his game and turned to look at her, a mix of annoyance and resignation on his face. "Alright, alright. I'm listening. What's going on?"

Micha lips wobbled as the tears started streaming down her face, so he really didn't listen, she let out a scoff as the teenage in front of her tried hard not to let out a snicker.

After telling him everything again " so you get it" she huffed trying hard to control her tears and voice, Kang face softened at that.

" I totally understand, but I also see aunty and uncle point of you. Micha that company isn't even that stable and there is no artist who debuted under it yet. You don't even know if you will have a secure future." He pulled her closer and patted her back.

Forget about being an idol, Micha was in awe of how her cousin and for the first time was talking to her like she was a human being, I think my grandma is right the more you get older the wiser you get. Should she go home now, even her candies are almost finished.

" but I want to be an idol.." her face is getting reder by the minute, because of the continuous crying and whining as she clutched on the fabric of his shirt.

" I know baby but-" he was a mere seconds away from giving up, after all he promised to do anything he can to make her happy from the moment he held her in his arms when she was just a newborn and he was a small eight year old boy.

" please oppa, just talk to my parents and convince them" her soft voice was getting hoarse from crying.

" I... Ok I'll try" Kang seriously didn't know why was he denying her in the first place, after all he never in his life was capable of saying no to her, he should've just gave up from the beginning.

And here he is the nineteen year old found himself standing in front of his uncle and aunt who appeared worried from their daughter latest escape, if you can call it escape really. And the later was hiding behind his legs clutching his hands tightly like he was her saver.

If you ever told Kang that his university break would be spent on trying to convince his family on letting their only princess be an idol, he would've preferred staying in America than coming here. Who he is kidding? He probably would've taken the first plane here from the first time that Micha calls him.

He took a deep breath" why wouldn't you let her, I mean she would be safe and the CEO of the company is one of the top producer in the country".

His aunt, myeong was massaging the spot in between her eyes " it's not about that, being a CEO and a producer it's a two different things and besides Micha is still young and who will guarantee to me that she will be safe?"

Hearing that Micha let out a small whine, seeing his daughter being desperate like this, one of the most influential man in the world couldn't help but give up" Micha do you really want to be an idol, if yes then you can do it but you have to promise me to focus on your studies"

Hearing this the small girl came out from her hiding spot and run towards her dad to jump in to his arms " thank you appa I promise you to be a good student" myeong was going to protest but held her mouth when she saw how happy her daughter was and instead smiled and kissed her forehead.

Pulling from the hug she turned around to see her hero and then skipped towards him and wrapped her arms around his middle, her voice was muffed by his shirt but he can still clearly hear her thanking him over and over again, Kang smiled hearing her. While the parents looked softly at the pair, they didn't have to worry after all, because after all having the boy that they claimed as a son caring for his little sister like this, eased their minds.

[snwusberry]

warning(s): language, name calling (someone gets called a whore once)

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THIS IS FICTION AND DOESN'T DEPICT THE ACTUAL PEOPLE IRL

kaya's point of view

i don't know what i'm doing here. i honestly should've just stayed home like jongho and miyeon did but alas, here i am.

"at least pretend you're having fun." beomgyu whispers to me which earns him a glare.

"i am having fun, what you mean?"

"as if."

christmas is a week away, why the fuck am i in a forest toasting marshmallows?

yeonjun thought it would be a good idea to organise a little getaway to relax and unwind before the hectic christmas schedule starts. jongho immediately declined because he simply didn't want to spend his days freezing in a tent and he was so real for that because here we all are huddled over the fire wearing layers to keep warm.

"next christmas we go to phi phi islands, i can't do this." i complain and everyone laughs but i simply don't recall making a joke.

beomgyu comes back from wherever he went to, this time with a blanket and he sits down next to me so he can wrap hos arm around me and cover both of us with the blanket. a small gesture that never fails to warm my heart.

"i know!" soobin exclaims causing all of us to turn to him, startled at the whole his sudden outburst. "let's sing campfire songs."

groans go around the fire and mrs choi throws something into the fire. "boooo."

"okay."

"you know, when beomgyu and i started dating, i was so nervous to meet you all. i mean, granted, i had before then but that was just as taehyun and yeosang's sister. meeting you all as beomgyu's girlfriend was something different." i tell them all out of nowhere.

all i hear is the cracking of the fire in front of us accompanied by the other sounds of nature. everyone has their attention on me.

"he assured me there was nothing to worry about and he was right. you're all some of the most welcoming people and i'm glad i get to spend yet another christmas with you guys."

"aww kaya, where is this coming from?" mrs choi asks and i shrug.

"i felt the same." hayoon speaks up and we turn to her, now focusing on her. "i remember i was also extremely nervous seven years ago, yeonjun and i were both nothing but young teenagers and so imagine here i am, 17 years old about to meet my boyfriend's family for the first time. i was terrified but you all accepted me as part of the family since then and i thought you were all just sticking around being kind, waiting for us to break up but it was all in my head." she tells us with tears forming in her eyes and yeonjun who is right next to her outs his arm around her shoulder which warms my heart to see.

"we liked you from the get go. both of you. we saw how happy you made our babies so who are we to stand in your way?"

"who's the baby?" beomgyu asks and i nudge him.

"story is, all three of you girls brought extra happiness to the family. miyoung did the impossible. you remember how jongho was hellbent on not getting married?" mrs choi asks, turning to her husband who nods. "now look at them, married, happier than ever. hayoon came in and brightened yeonjun's life a whole lot, dare i say he smiles a lot more now and here you guys are, parents to the most beautiful baby girl the world has eyer seen."

the couple smile widely, hiding their red faces.

she's not wrong. minji is quite literally the cutest baby i've ever seen and i've seen my baby pictures.

"then here's kaya. you being related to both my sons' friends was not a coincidence. you know, with beomgyu being the youngest, i was more sceptical at first but getting to know you over dinner immediately put my mind at ease. soobin when are you getting into a relationship for goodness sake." she says, finishing her speech calling soobin out who was not expecting it in the slightest bit.

"hold on..."

"you're the only single one in the house my dear."

"that's not true, san is also single." he defends but yeonjun butts in.

"yeah but he's a whore."

"hey, don't say that about your brother." mr choi scolds making us laugh. "it's best if we ignore that aspect of his life."

there's no way...

his statement earns him a hit upside the head by mrs choi.

"you know what? let it stay that way." he says causing laughs to erupt from anyone.

"go back to kaya and beomgyu. they're the only unmarried couple he-" soobin says but he stops talking almost immediately, his eyes shifting around. beomgyu tensed up next to me too. what's this about?

"we'll get married when we're ready." beomgyu quickly says and i nod.

we've spoken about it quite a few times here and there and tge conversations always end with us planning the actual day so i guess you could say we are ready but in no rush.

"just say you don't wanna put a ring on it." i tease and he coughs and everyone around the fire gets a bit shifty.

okay what's going on?

san's point of view

no way in fucking hell this is happening right now.

"bro how do you get stomach flu at your geriatric age?" wooyoung asks seonghwa who's laying in bed, completely out of it. "we're viewing houses today."

"you think i don't know that asshole?" seonghwa groans, throwing a pillow at wooyoung.

"well we still have to go. someone will have to be mr park for the day." yeosang tells us and almost immediately.

"NOT IT!" wooyoung and i both say at tge same time and i kid you not, yeosang glitched in real time.

"good morning mr park. my name is gary. you mentioned bringing some company?" the man greets with a wide smile and yeosang nods.

"yeah they're here."

as if it's some big reveal, wooyoung and i get out of the car and the man's eyes widen when they land on me. aww he remembers me.

"good morning." we greet him and he greets back with a smile.

"well. let's get started then."

he walks us through the first half like normal, talking about tge neighbourhood, the surrounding areas, what's nearby, all that boring stuff.

now look, we planned everything except how to bring up the ring and that's when it struck me. i left after losing. what if he gambled it away.

"can i talk to them for a second?" i ask and he nods.

i take them a bit farther from gary so i can talk a bit louder because yeosang doesn't like whispering noises. little bitch.

"what's up?"

"guys what if he doesn't have the ring? like what if he gambled it away?" i ask them and their eyes widen at the revelation.

"what do we do then?"

"excuse me. i didn't mean to eavesdrop but sir, you mentioned a ring?" gary says, and we all turn to him.

well, we're fucked.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Our Hearts Collide - Chapter 1 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Vince

It should have been simple, attend baby Rowan's first birthday party, drop off some gifts, maybe even stay for food and socialize.

Yet my hands were sweaty and shaking as I stared at the house in front of me.

I was already late, practically dragging myself to Aspen and Sarah's home, wondering if they'd notice if I don't show up but I already knew the answer to that, they had already texted me five times collectively, another three messages from Xavier.

With my feet glued to the pavement, I could see him from the window.

In the kitchen, Simon stood beside Sarah and Aspen, baby Rowan bouncing on his hip as they wore matching cone hats.

It wasn't like I hadn't known he'd be here but it didn't stop the suffocating feeling I felt from seeing him again.

Watching from this window had stirred up a memory that I wasn't ready to relive yet again.

It was impossible not to think about that night.

The sun was just about to set but apart from that, everything felt the same... the laughter, the smell of fresh pizza and burning candles, even those silly cone hats.

Even to the way Simon smiled and pointed at the cake before scooping up part of the icing and smearing it on the poor kid's face.

It didn't help that Rowan looked just like Stephen in his arms, exactly how I remembered that night.

Behind them, Xavier was grabbing paper plates, Jonah resting on his hip while Lilah gripped his shirt.

They were laughing, smiles donning their faces as I remained in the middle of the walkway, still debating whether I should even bother going in.

Aside from the few times Aspen and Sarah had me over for dinner and Rowan clung to me like one of his blankets, I was hardly a part of Rowan's life.

I bet Simon interacted with him more, especially since he had named him.

They looked like a family in there, warm and inviting just like Simon's family had been.

The gift felt heavier in my hands, even though it was only a stuffed animal.

Now that I thought about it, was this even an appropriate gift for a child?

Wouldn't I just dampen the mood by being in that house?

Maybe I should've given something more practical, like diapers or wipes.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I looked into the kitchen window, this time Sam standing near Simon.

My heart sank, watching as they smiled at each other, Sam whispering something in his ear to elicit a laugh.

It hadn't been the first time I had seen them like this and I knew I had no right to feel this way, to feel hurt when we had agreed things were fine but it didn't stop that sinking feeling in my chest.

After a few sessions with Chase, it dawned on me that I had wanted that.

I had been... still was jealous over someone that treated him right, that was making him happier than I ever could.

That revelation alone had made me seriously rethink things, being jealous wouldn't solve anything, wouldn't make things alright.

Yet, I could still feel it gnawing at me, that bitter feeling that I should be there instead.

Even my wolf was pacing about, antsy as I was.

Rowan made a face as he squirmed in Simon's arms, turning his body to look at Sam as the two laughed about whatever it was they were talking about.

They continued their banter, Rowan grinning and grabbing pieces of the cake with his bare hands, making a mess that rivaled Xavier's in the kitchen.

A couple of minutes passed as I stood and watched, probably just as crazy as I looked on that drunken night, watching a family celebrate a child's first birthday.

Deciding to brave the frustration Sarah, Aspen and Xavier would have for not showing, I approached the house, planning on just dropping the gift off on the porch before going back to my room and hiding away like I always did when Simon visited them.

That is until I saw Rowan look toward me, icing-covered hands reaching out to me.

A gesture he made whenever he wanted me to pick him up.

His little feet kicked about, wanting to move around on his wobbly legs.

Hoping the others would be too lost in a conversation to notice, I crouched forward, only to see Simon and Sam's head turn toward me.

With all of us frozen, my eyes widened, the bag straps slipping from my grasp and falling with a thud.

Wishing they had just ignored my presence, I backed away slowly from the porch, glancing up at the window, Rowan still with his outstretched hands, squirming in Simon's arms.

'Just pay attention to the child, please,' I wanted to say.

To my dismay, Simon handed Rowan to Sam before he was out of view from the kitchen window, heading toward the front door.

'Shit.'

I couldn't possibly do this, couldn't face him right now, I wasn't even remotely ready.

What had I been thinking about coming here?

Turning on my heel so fast, I jogged out of the front yard, making a sharp turn out of sight as I heard the front door open, Simon's voice calling out my name, a sound I hadn't heard in over a year.

That alone made me stop in place, the sound of concern but if I did turn around, would he see how much of a coward I still was, unable to even face him even after all he reassured me.

He called my name again and my legs stumbled forward, away from him.

I was a coward, still.

My wolf whined about walking away but the flight response was in overdrive, my feet propelling me further and further.

Weaving through houses in case he were to follow me, I wound up on the complete opposite way back home, closer to the Rogue Center, as it had been renamed, instead.

Positive I looked like a fool, my reaction to seeing him at the bar had been better than this.

Why did it feel like I was going backward?

With my nerves still high, the idea of going for a run sounded like a great way to let loose, to pretend I hadn't just lost my shit about seeing him again.

Even if it meant my wolf would be more present, I didn't care, I needed space and time to get these silly things out of my head.

Making a beeline to the RC, I walked past a few curious pack members, trying to appear as calm and stoic as possible.

'I'm going for a run.' I told Xavier.

'I'll be back.'

'But the party? Simon and Ro? We were waiting...'

'I left Rowan's gift there. Give them my regards.

Tuning out whatever remark he had for me, I headed into the building, leaving my cell-phone and other belongings with one of the Betas.

Explaining that I would go for a run, he simply nodded to the door before going back to guarding one of the patient's rooms.

Shifting had become a lot easier, almost painless now that I hadn't been on any suppressants.

However, I wasn't without any repercussions, much of its effects from the sheer extent of my years of dependency were permanent, as Chase mentioned.

The rift between my wolf and me would always be unbalanced, tethering the line of peril and stability but he was getting better and I thought I had too, until seeing Simon had been a douse of cold water.

As harrowed about leaving the house and Simon behind as I was, my wolf was thrilled to go for a run.

[spvilers]

THE GIRLFRIEND THIEVES — C. CAIN

ღ pairing: cassandra cain x fem!reader

ღ prompt: “i'm pretty sure at this point my family has grown to love you more than they love me.”

ღ warnings: none

WHEN CASSANDRA BROUGHT you to meet her family for the first time, she didn't expect them to love you that much.

Sure, she knew that they would like you, you were a very enjoyable person with a bright smile that could make anyone like you, but she didn't think they would adore you that much.

Every single time she brought you over one of them was always stealing you away from her.

Dick always liked to watch movies with you because he thought your comments were funny and always made him laugh.

Jason likes to talk about books with you and at this point, the two of you almost have your own book club.

Tim liked the way you always knew what to say how you took your time to hear him tell you about his day.

Duke liked you because you were always there when he had problems and you somehow always seemed to have a solution to almost everything.

Damian thought it was cool to finally have someone over to play chess with him because, according to him, you are a worthy opponent.

Stephanie has always liked you, she was your best friend, actually, she was the one who introduced you to Cass, because she knew you two would match.

Barbara liked how happy you made cass and the way Cass was always smiling when you were near.

Bruce liked you because he saw how happy you made his kids and that immediately made him happy.

And Alfred liked you because you always offered to help him clean up when you stayed over for dinner or how you offered to help him cook and because he quite enjoyed your company.

So she should've seen it coming when she left you alone in the manor for five minutes because she had to pee and when she went back you were gone. Cassandra looked around to try and find you, but then she heard laughter from the kitchen.

Your laughter, and that of one of her brothers.

She sighed before she made her way into the kitchen and found you sitting on a chair with Dick standing by the stove, trying to cook something but obviously failing.

When you noticed her walking into the kitchen you smiled at her, "Hey Cass! Look, Dick is finally trying to cook!"

Cassandra just nodded and smiled at you before throwing her brother a glare.

Dick laughed, "Sorry, Cass. But she was sitting alone in the living room and I thought she could use some company."

Cass shook her head, "I just went to the bathroom!"

You laughed and stood up and walked over to her, placing a kiss on her cheek. "It's okay, cass. We can go and spend time alone now if you want."

Cassandra just nodded and took your hand before guiding you out of the kitchen.

Halfway on the way to her room, Cass' name was called by no one other than bruce. "Hey, Cass. I just need your help with this, I promise you it's gonna be quick." he said before seeing you, "Oh, hey Y/N."

You just waved at him before turning to Cass and telling her to go and help him and that you would find Cass' room by yourself, seeing as you have already been in the manor specifically Cassandra's room before.

When Cassandra was finally finished with Bruce, the only thing she wanted was you, and when she went into her room and you weren't there she knew exactly where you were and who was with you.

Cass knew you didn't mean to spend time with her family when she disappeared for a second, but she also knew that you were very bad at saying no, especially when it comes to her family.

Annoyed, Cass went to Batcave and when she entered it, she saw you playing chess with Damian while Tim was on his computer working on something with Jason in the background, fixing his motorcycle.

When you spotted her from your spot in front of Damian you waved enthusiastically at her and she couldn't help but smile too when she saw your big smile.

But when she saw the smug look that Damian gave her, one that only an annoying 14-year-old younger brother could have, her smile turned into a scowl.

Upon seeing your girlfriends frown you quickly stood up, "Hey, Damian, let's continue this some other time yeah? I'm really tired."

Tim turned around to you, "But it's only 3 pm?"

"Yeah, and I'm still tired, Timmy." you responded before walking over to Cassandra and taking her by her hand, and walking out of the Batcave.

On the way to her room Cass squeezed your hand, "I'm pretty sure at this point my family has grown to love you more than they love me." she mused.

You threw your head back, laughing and squeezed her hand back, "Yeah, but I still love you more than I love them."

Cass smiled before leaning in and pressing her lips to yours. When she pulls away, you rush to catch her mouth once more with her arms wrapping themselves around your waist.

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Two - Gutless

WORD COUNT: 4k

WARNINGS: Death (murder), brief descriptions of gore, Isla and Jax doing something very illegal

MASTERLIST

The morning sun was beating down upon the pair a little bit harsher now, inducing a sheen of sweat to coat over Jax's forehead.

But the perspiration could've formed as a result of coming to the realization that he'd just blown the brains out of an ATF agent, left his body to decompose on Tara's bathroom floor, and spilled his guts--not even twenty-four hours later--to Isla.

Jax knew that he could trust her with anything--he always had been able to trust her with anything. But there was something telling him that she didn't exactly feel too wonderful about his revelation.

Her arm lifted to run across her forehead, ridding the skin of a few salty droplets.

"What do you mean--"

"I mean I put a bullet through his fuckin' skull and blew his brains out, Isla! That's what I mean."

He ran a thumb over his lips, realizing that he should've kept his tone subdued so close to the main doors of the clubhouse.

"Jesus, Jax." She breathed out, pinching the bridge of her nose as he started to pace quietly. "I--I can't believe you're telling me this."

Well, she could. Really, there wasn't anything she could've put past Jax anymore. And when it came to Tara...The man was an idiot. Always had been.

"Why was Kohn even at her place?"

Jax was fidgety. Uneasy. She couldn't blame him for that, could she? Because he'd just fucking killed a man--but still.

He wasn't even trying to hide it.

"Or did you lure him there or something--"

"Shut up." He growled, grabbing her bicep with his left hand as he pulled her to the side of the building. "Just listen to me."

"I'm listening, Jax, but you don't seem to be telling me a lot."

Realizing that he wasn't offering very much explanation, he nodded. Jax let go of her and beckoned her closer, pleading eyes melting her fucking heart.

"Isla, please." He wrapped his arms around her, minding the bloodied shirt.

"What do you want me to do?"

Ringed fingers splayed over her cheek, pushing stray blonde hairs out of her face. He sighed hard. Exasperated.

"Help me get rid of him--"

"Jackson--"

"I'm not asking you to lug his dead body to the creek and throw him in. I'm just asking you to offer a helping hand and be a lookout or something."

Isla searched his features for a morsel of something that'd indicate Jax was messing with her. But he was dead serious--his face set to neutral, eyes glazed over.

"But--I--what about Cameron?"

"Tara and Chibs have it covered." He murmured, heeding the apprehension sail over her.

She was as strong and willing as she possibly could've been. Isla was consistently the person that Jax and Opie would turn to for advice when it came to their girls, or when they needed to be pointed in the right direction.

But he'd never asked her to do such a thing before.

Her loyalty outweighed her nervousness, however. He knew she'd never say no to helping him with such a matter--but it was still asking too much.

Chibs would've been furious that Jax felt it necessary to beg Isla for assistance during such a time, too. Hell, Gemma would've admonished him for it.

"Where is he?" She mumbled, hearing the clubhouse door open and an irritated grunt sounding from the front of the lot.

Jax held her close to his chest, a hand tracing over the skin of her shoulder that'd been exposed as the shirt fell to the middle of her arm.

"Tara's place." His whisper was monotonous, bordering on lifeless.

"Okay--when do you need to do this?"

He eyed Tig storming from the building and toward his motorcycle, completely unaware of the two conspiring.

"Tonight." His voice came low and gravely. "I'll ride to her place now, and you go home, get yourself cleaned up, do whatever you've gotta do today, and we'll head there--"

"I'm not cleaning myself up. I'm already covered in blood--I don't think I need to destroy another shirt."

"Okay." Jax's lips rubbed together, almost turning upward into a smile. "But don't follow me out, alright? Go tell Gemma that you don't know where I went, and then you take it from there."

"And if Tara asks..."

A gentle kiss against her forehead almost forced tears to collate in her eyes.

"She won't ask--she knows I've gotta do this."

Isla silenced herself, though she nodded and watched as Tig--pissed as hell--rode out of the lot and onto the street.

She guessed that he was still piqued after she and Chibs yelled at him.

And she was still pissed at Jax, but for a different reason now.

This time, she wanted to slap the shit out of the blonde idiot standing before her, requesting help with disposing of a literal dead body.

Isla couldn't quite believe that Jax had turned to her and not somebody like Opie--somebody who would be able to help a little more physically--but she could only assume that it was more of a trust thing.

He had a lot of faith in her and she lauded that. But it also saw her get thrust into some questionable situations.

"You look like you're gonna puke." Juice stifled a laugh as Isla padded in, the bottom of her shirt wrenched between bloodied fingers. "Are you good?"

"Yeah." Instantly, she responded. "I'm fine. I just need to get my purse."

Clay was nowhere to be seen--possibly in the back room with Chibs and Tara--but Gemma's eyes focused on the blonde's form as she strolled across the wood.

"You don't look fine. Come sit for a little while."

"I'm gonna head home--"

"Where'd Jax go?" Gemma cut in, lifting an eyebrow conspicuously.

Tell Gemma that you don't know where I went.

"I don't know." She frowned, sitting on the barstool opposite the woman. "We shared a cigarette, talked about Abel, and then he told me he had to go--where, I don't know."

Did she feel bad about roping his child into their little lie? Yeah, a bit. But it was foolproof. Gemma never would've suspected anything to do with Abel because, really, Jax brought him up to everyone whenever he got the chance to.

"Ah. He's probably headed over to see him. I'll go--"

"I wouldn't." Isla pushed. "He's trying to get some alone time with him. He said that he hasn't really been able to spend one-on-one time with Abel all too much."

Which wasn't a lie. Jax needed to spend those rare solitary moments with his baby because his mother couldn't seem to leave St. Thomas for more than three hours at a time.

Gemma just hummed, turning away.

She knew how he felt. But she was Abel's grandma--she just wanted to know that he was safe and being looked after.

"I'm sorry, that was mean...I just think he's a little confused right now, and could use five minutes with his son."

"No, you're right." She nodded, unable to heed the trepidation flitting over Isla because she felt bad about coming down on Gemma in such a way.

That woman was a Godsend to Jax, his children, and even Isla's family. She didn't deserve to be randomly admonished for wanting to visit her baby's baby. Not after everything she'd done for them.

Well, besides trying to murder the mother of Jax's first born. That was a little fucked up--even by SAMCRO's standards.

But Isla adored her. For everything she had done for her during the time she'd resided in Charming, Gemma was regarded extremely fucking highly in her book.

"Go home, baby. Get some sleep, too--you need to rest."

Isla waved her off. "I'm not tired, just feelin' a little gross."

"I'd bet." Gemma pushed her lips together, smiling as much as she could've. "You go yourself pretty again, and swing by later for dinner."

"Yes ma'am." She mock saluted, reaching for her purse.

Goodbyes between Isla, Gemma, and Juice were uttered for a few moments before the blonde made her way to the door.

Her eyebrows raised inquisitively, urging her to turn back to the duo.

"Gem?"

"Mhm?"

"Was Tig alright?" Sincerely, she asked. Feeling a little guilty about snapping earlier.

Gemma didn't say anything but her head bobbed in confirmation, providing Isla with the answer she needed.

The Irish in her shone through during instances like those. She was brash in her actions, words, and the fact she'd always speak before she thought--but the solemnity with which she would ponder, apologize after making a mistake, was just so plainly Irish.

Isla was kind. Caring. Nurturing. She was everything that SAMCRO was not--but, at the same time, everything that Chibs was. Reliable. Loyal. Committed. A true ride or fucking die.

Everybody trusted her, and nobody second-guessed confiding in her.

And, once again, that had its reparations alongside a multitude of perks.

"Holy mother of Jesus." She cursed, the unmistakable Belfast twang flickering through her brusque tone.

Jax haphazardly pulled the bed-sheet over Kohn's lifeless frame, turning to face his little friend who was, to put it lightly, fucking stunned.

"You sound super Irish when you're mad."

"I'm glad you could recognize that I'm mad at you, Jax." Her eyes never once left the outline of that dead body half on Tara's bedroom carpet, half on the tile of her en-suite.

Getting to her knees, disregarding an incredulous amount of blood decorating the walls and carpets, Isla pulled the floral cover off of Josh.

She sighed. "Why'd you do it?"

"He was stalking Tara--"

"So you just blew his fucking brains out?!" Her shriek was guttural. "Jesus Christ, Jax. And you idiots think that Tig is the one with a trigger problem."

"He does have a problem, and you know that! This was different!" He countered, pulling her to her feet. "This was fucking restitution, Isla!"

"No." Calmly, she stated. Her glare piercing. "This was fucking stupid. Possibly the most idiotic thing that you've ever done, Jackson."

His head shook as he sneered, towering over her. Isla felt intimidated. For the first time ever, she felt an unwavering sensation of overawe whilst in the presence of her best friend.

"He was a bad guy. He had to die."

"But he was fucking ATF! Hale is gonna get your ass, and there's nothing Unser will be able to help you with once he gets wind of this--"

Isla's voice cracked around a small sob. She wasn't even aware of the tears welling in her eyes, but they were there the entire time.

It was the thought of Jax making one incredible life altering fuck up--one that he wasn't going to save himself with a bribe, or the simple luck of a good connection to Charming PD--that was maiming her uncomfortably.

Jax's arms wound around her trembling waist, hugging her tightly against his palpitating chest.

The sheer terror visible in her mannerisms was what frightened him. Isla never seemed to scare very easily--or, at least, she didn't show it.

She was fearless, but she was still human. And he had only seen her crack twice. Both times because of the club, too.

"He was stalking Tara." He reinstated, circling his fingers over Isla's svelte spine. "They dated when she was in Chicago, she broke things off but he was a clingy motherfucker and he wouldn't leave her alone."

"She should've gotten a restraining order or something." She mumbled into his chest, sniffing back tears.

"That's the thing. She did. But he broke it by coming back to Charming, pretending to be setting up shop at the PD with Hale, but he followed her around town for a couple weeks instead."

"And nobody questioned why he wasn't getting anything done?"

Jax's head shook. "He was still working for Chicago--or so he said, anyway--so Hale just assumed any intel for whatever the fuck it was he'd been workin' on was going straight back to the big bosses."

She was struggling to follow on.

It was such a convoluted scenario that Isla never thought she'd become entwined with--though, with Jax and Charming being, well, Jax and Charming, she didn't know why she ruled something of the sort out.

"Are you gonna tell Gemma and Clay--"

"No. This is between us, and Tara."

Isla didn't have the energy to bicker with him again. She didn't want to bicker with him again, truthfully.

"Alright, what's the next move, then? 'Cuz this pig can't stay wrapped up in a sheet for too much longer or else he's gonna start to stink this place out."

Jax situated both hands against crimson coated shoulders, lightly pushing her backward so she could look up to meet his gaze.

"I got a plan. But I don't think you're gonna like it."

His eyes went straight to the lighter atop Tara's bedside table, right next to the pineapple scented candle, and she sighed hard.

The man was so sadistic. It wasn't even slightly discreet anymore, really.

Whereas Clay had always been ruthless, remarkably barbaric toward those who had wronged him--or anyone, really--Jax had more of a moral compass. Not much more, but a little. And that was the sort of thing that tied him straight to JT.

But Clarence Morrow had a much more potent impact on Jax's life, thus the man's foibles ended up transpiring to his stepson.

"This is seriously fucked up."

"I know." He didn't even try to argue, pushing Josh into the small grave he'd spent the last ten minutes digging at the pit of a deep, deep ditch.

Isla's body was below freezing, cold and uneasy at the prospect of potentially being caught, or assumed as an accessory to the murder of a federal agent.

"I'm sorry for roping you into this." Jax stated, almost reading her mind. "I just didn't know what else to do."

She ran a hand over his forearm, resting her head comfortably against navy-cotton covered flesh. "I know."

He didn't expect the woman to douse the dead body in gasoline, set it alight, and wait all night for the corpse to torrefy entirely--but she was there now. There was no reason she shouldn't go to the trouble of lighting the first match.

Tara should be the one doing this, Isla thought to herself as the small stick caught alight. She dropped it atop the sheet, taking a few steps backward when the thing immediately shot up into thick flames.

Jax engulfed her warmly with both arms, holding her tightly as if continuing their prior embrace. It felt safe, unusually so. But, to Isla, it felt like he was scouting for that security more than what she was.

"I can't believe you committed murder for a woman that you haven't seen for ten whole years." She laughed against his sweatshirt, eyes watering. "Is there something going on with you two again?"

"No." Huskily, he responded. "There isn't, and there won't be, either. I just swung by her place to make sure she was alright--I knew she was having trouble with that fucker--and he was there. I had to do it, Isla."

"I know."

She didn't. She did not know. She did not want to know, either. She couldn't fucking believe he'd acted out so rashly, how he was so trigger happy.

Jax was morphing into a different man and she couldn't help but pin that on the club.

"Is she alright?"

"I don't think so." His mumble was barely audible, but she caught it.

Isla squeezed his arm reassuringly, knowing that he felt bad about bringing that sort of trouble to Tara.

"She will be." She confirmed. "She's a strong girl, Jax, she'll be okay."

It didn't kill her to speak positively about Tara, she still held a place in her huge Irish heart--but it was an odd sensation to be mentioning her at all.

Ten years had passed by and Isla wasn't even certain that she was still alive. Her concern for the doctor seemed to dissipate over time because Tara didn't want anything more to do with them, so they didn't try with her.

Maybe it was a pang of jealousy that held her back. She was undeniably envious of the fact that she'd gotten out of town, worked her ass off, and experienced bigger and better things.

But, essentially, everything led back to Charming, and Tara Knowles had ended up falling into that same heap of trouble she left behind a decade ago.

Isla pulled her cellphone from the back pocket of her jeans, groaning when she saw the time.

"We've got an hour before Gemma wants us for dinner. You think this son of a bitch is gonna turn into dust within the next sixty minutes?"

"No." Jax laughed, leaning to his left and propping his head atop hers. "But he'll be unrecognizable in the next twenty."

"Perfect."

It was barbarous. Vile. Inhuman.

Isla's mother would be spinning in her grave if she knew the chaos she'd managed to find herself meshed with. Diane would kill Chibs, too.

She'd kill him for roping her baby into such malice after leaving Belfast. She'd want to throttle the Scottish son of a bitch for welcoming little Isla Áine Telford to SAMCRO, to Charming, to Jax fucking Teller.

They weren't natives to the small town, nor were they natives to California. Chibs had just moved from charter to charter. Continent to fucking continent. And taking his little angel along for the ride wasn't exactly planned until his late wife took her very last breath one stormy morning.

It was the most upsetting thing he had to do, telling his daughter that the woman she looked up to and adored with every fiber of her being wasn't coming home.

He'd been in the army, he'd seen things no man should've ever seen, but the sight of that six year old--teary-eyed and partially cognizant--was something that cut him so deeply, Jimmy O'Phelan's mark didn't seem to scratch the surface of Chib's inconsolable hurt.

"I think we're good now." A little nervous, Isla noted.

She simply couldn't wait to get out of the bitter chill, into a hot shower, and to the dinner table at the Teller-Morrow residence.

Jax surveyed the scene. He crouched down, heeding the flicker and sick crackle of flames engulfing the barely fleshed body.

"I think so, too." He confirmed, throwing her the keys to his SUV. "Get outta the cold--I'll finish up here. K?"

She nodded, clutching the chain close to her chest.

Isla wasn't sure how badly she was trembling until she sat still in the passenger seat, watching the club's VP commit the unspeakable.

Really, she wasn't shocked to find out that Jax was capable of the sort. Burning a man dead was better than burning one alive, and she was thankful that Josh had been put out of his misery before his body was cauterized into dust...Which was more than what could've been said about Kyle Hobart.

She remembered overhearing the club's plans to sear, or slice, the SAMCRO tattoo from the back of that brute once they'd gotten wind of his inability to black it out.

And she would've felt bad about that man getting viciously harmed, if he didn't fuck Opie over and subsequently land him in Chino to serve five years away from Charming and his family.

It was cruel, she knew that. To blowtorch the MC tattoo from the stretch of his back, was fucking cruel. Isla knew that Tig was adept at causing such blistering agony, but she didn't think he would actually go through with it, least of all with such delight.

Isla feared that man sometimes. Clay's right hand, the man who sought to protect her, fucking terrified her because he was so unpredictable. So fast acting.

"He's done." Jax officially confirmed, sliding into the driver's seat. "You okay?"

She was staring off into space, her eyes glazing over at the realization she had just helped dispose of another human being.

"Isla--"

"I'm good." Finally, she spoke. "I just--uh--I just wanna get cleaned up and head to dinner now."

He pinched the keys from a frail palm, sticking them into the ignition. All the while wondering what the fuck he was going to do with the shaken up woman to his right.

Twenty-three years of friendship, and Isla never once thought she'd be involved in such incredulous activity. Jax never thought she'd get hauled into it either, really.

Juice was right. She looked like she was going to throw up, all pale and sickly.

He had done that. Jax was, essentially, the reason that Isla seemed as though she wanted to crawl out of her own fucking skin. Granted, she was already feeling rather discomfited after tending to Cameron's laceration for hours on end--at odds with her father and Tig for that time, too.

But now this...This made Isla feel horrible. Dirty. Disgusting.

"You want me to tell Gemma you're not feeling it tonight?" Jax looked beside himself, noticing her head hanging low as she flared out of the window. "So you can skip seeing everybody--"

"No." Flatly, she responded. "No, I wanna make sure Tig doesn't hate me."

"Why would he hate you?"

"I yelled at him." Isla sounded downcast, sad. "He was watching, being awkward, trying to tell me what dad and I were doing wasn't going to suffice, and I just snapped."

In understanding, he hummed. He knew how irritating Alexander Trager was. Irritating, insufferable, it was all the same.

"He won't hate you for that." Comfortably, Jax rested a hand on Isla's thigh.

She barely felt the ringed fingers gently gliding along her jeans as she shook. It was a tremor, light and unnoticeable to the naked eye, that Jax felt reverberate through his entire body through his palm.

"I don't think he's managed to be pissed at you for more than fifteen minutes at a time."

"Yeah." She mumbled, shifting awkwardly. "Yeah, you're right. I'm too sweet for anybody to stay mad at me--"

"I wouldn't say you were sweet."

She smacked at his hand with a laugh, throwing her head backward as her smile started to fade.

It was bittersweet.

Bittersweet because she was realizing that Tig had pardoned her for being a bitch, but she had also just disposed of a dead body on the side of the freeway.

Bittersweet because, now, there was no clear path for her and Jackson and whatever happened was just going to happen and they had to grin and bear it. Pretend it wasn't eating them from the inside out.

Bittersweet because their families--their family--were currently sat around the oak table in Gemma's dining room, waiting for the pair to waltz in after doing the most heinous.

Bitter. Fucking. Sweet.

"Where were you guys?!" Tig pointed his beer bottle at the duo, heeding Jax's hand in Isla's back pocket.

Of course, to Trager, that was more than just a comfort thing. He didn't know what they had just done--nor would he--but she was going to let him believe whatever the fuck he wanted to as long as it wasn't the actual truth.

"It don't matter." Clay dismissed, gesturing to Jax and Isla's designated spaces at the table. "They're here now. That's all I care about."

Her smile was warm, friendly and welcoming while she sat in between her father and partner in crime. Literally.

Chibs nudged her. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Slowly, she uttered. She reached for the wine glass that Gemma had so kindly laid out for her.

The two blondes made eye contact for a few moments, Jax's crystalline hues completely lifeless. Arid. He nodded toward her, an indication that he was feeling alright.

But Isla...She wasn't. Lying through her teeth was the only feasible means of getting over this. Whatever this was.

"I'm fucking brilliant, dad."

[bumbershots]

LOVEFOOL

Author’s note: HELLO! This is my part for the Valentine’s Day challenge that @1dffchallenges put together. Make sure to keep an eye out for any other pieces published by other authors. Enjoy! And happy Valentine’s weekend! (:

Summary: Harry agrees to go on a blind date set up by his friends in hopes that it will help him move on from an unrequited love.

Word count: 3K

Challenge prompt and dialogue: blind date set up by friends. “I don’t want this to end...”

There’s a first for everything. Harry’s had his fair share of them at the age of twenty-seven. First time on an aeroplane at the tender age of six for a family holiday in Rome. First kiss on his home town’s park with someone he deeply cared about. First time in a recording studio. First time going on tour. The first night spent alone in his new and barely furnished home. The first morning he laid eyes on the girl next door. The ugly heartbreak after she got married, certainly felt worse than his first one.

Life is full of firsts, Harry knows that, and he wishes to have been the first to sneak his way into Jane’s heart, all those years ago.

"You love her" it almost sounds like an accusation coming from Jeff, though the last thing he wants is to make Harry feel guilty. The musician doesn't reply, he shrugs, eyes never leaving her no matter how deep into the ocean she seems to be. "Does she know?" Harry shakes his head in denial. "Did you bring her along just so you could tell her?"

"I enjoy writing music with her, that's why she's here," his tone leaves no room for more questions, the manager knows and sighs defeated. Harry stands from his spot on the beach and heads back inside the house, alone.

Is he being that obvious?

He reviews the past few days and wonders where he slipped, nothing rings any bell. Harry completely and conveniently forgets how he doesn't nag her for having a smoke after dinner, instead he just opens the window and stands close to it, or how he's been making her a cuppa everyday at noon. But it was the time when Jane asked him to help her French plait her hair when something clicked in Jeff's brain, the way Harry beamed at such a simple request left no room for questioning. Yet he asked him, because there was that tiny chance of it all being part of the manager's imagination, but when he looked back on it, the little things now made more sense to him and in a way he always knew.

They've been in Port Antonio for two weeks now and everything was going just dandy, Harry was writing more than ever, the first week he had a new song every day, he even polished the old ones and had a tune for his favourites, thanks to Mitch's help. When Jeff Azoff got there earlier this week, he spent a good two hours talking to Jeff Bhasker about how much of a good idea the trip was.

"Harry is on a writing spree." He complimented Azoff's client, it was nothing but the truth. However the reason for it all, was now heading back to the house to join the others after a good surfing session.

Jane went straight to take a shower, ready to rinse all the ocean's saltiness from her body, thinking how wonderful it would've been if her own worries could be washed away with her tangerine shampoo. In contrast to Harry's good spirits and excellent mood, her own cloud of trouble seemed to follow her all the way from London. She still hadn't heard from her husband, so it is safe to say he was still upset about her going away to work in Harry's album. It was impossible for her to forget the argument they had, at first thinking it was a joke on his side, insinuating that they were ‘shagging behind his back’.

After her shower, wearing comfortable clothes, Jane joins the others for supper but keeps to herself, still with the dichotomy about calling Alex or letting him be. He will eventually come to his senses and apologise. 

What if he doesn't? 

The thought alone of her clothes being packed in boxes by the time she gets back home almost makes her cry, perhaps she can call or text him just to test the waters. It is ridiculous how she seems to be more mature about this than him.

"Penny for them?" Harry's voice brings her back to the now empty dining room, the voices from the rest of their party can be heard from the living room.

"God I'm sorry H, lost myself out there for a moment," she is embarrassed, with him, the others and herself for letting this situation get under her skin. And she's also avoiding talking about it, with Harry or anyone. "I was just thinking about the tempo for Sweet Creature."

"Liar," he hates to be shut down by her more than anything. "Is it because I didn't let you eat the last peanut drop the other day?" It would've been easier for her to say it was, than to address the actual reason. But Harry hasn't lied to her, ever.

"No love, although I was a bit hurt because of that, it's actually this thing with Alex we are, I don't know, he was upset with me and said some things," Jane couldn't finish, her speech was cut short by a quiet sob and Harry was quick to pull her from the chair onto his lap and hold her tight. His own heart speeding at the sight of her distressed.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"Two weeks ago." Her voice barely whispers on his chest, "he's being a wanker to be honest, just because he's not going on tour with any of his bands I'm supposed to be a stay at home wife!"

"Why don't you explain this to me, from the beginning, please?" He asks rubbing her back soothingly, and she spills it all, the having kids now or never argument, to her wanting to have a proper wedding party and finally the latest fight where Alex suggested an affair going on between her and Harry, the latter had to do his best not to put the option on the table, since her husband so kindly suggested it. Might as well, he thought. "It all sounds like a big misunderstanding, I know you're a great communicator sunshine, so it baffles me that you've let this go on for so long." He's got a point.

"You're right, but I feel like it's his turn, you know?" Jane's done weeping, but remained on her friend's lap and arms, head resting on his shoulder. "He's always forward, mature, a proper thirty year old except when it comes to arguments where we ought to reach an agreement," she plays a bit with the cross hanging from his neck, a scowl on her pretty face. "Like with the children thing, we only stopped arguing when I said that maybe in two more years we could have one instead of, you know, my early thirties." It's good that she can't see how upset Harry is.

"You gave into that one, he should do the same but it's his choice," Harry sighs and can't believe what he's about to say. "Take the day off tomorrow, call him or FaceTime, Skype whatever you choose, but have a proper conversation with him." She wants to argue and say it's not necessary to be absent the whole day, she can spare a few hours. But she will need time to think about what to say, make her point clear so they are on good terms until she goes back to London.

"Fine, but if he is still acting like a dickhead afterwards, I'm not going to let it into my head anymore, we will continue to bask in this great work environment going on here." Jane states, pulling away from his embrace just enough to give him that stern look she uses when trying to make a point, and Harry nods with a warm smile, the one she never gets tired of seeing. "I'll call it a night now, gonna be asleep in seconds now that I've got that out of my chest." She stands from his lap, missing his warmth instantly. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime honey pie." Harry says before leaving a kiss on her left hand that burns her skin from then till morning.

Jeff joins the musician in the dining room right after the girl walks away to her room, he takes a seat across from him and scrutinises the look of adoration his friend still sports once she is out of the room.

"She'll never know, if you never tell her." Jeff is right, but the thought alone of going through that again scares him to death. Or so he says, because there's a part of him that is fond of the thrill it makes him feel.

"It's not like I haven't tried, just last year I told her," Harry remembers that night vividly, how pretty she looked even with her makeup all smudged under her eyes. "I'm not sure if she heard, it was too loud like where we were at the time." He was also pissed out of his mind.

"H, there's nothing wrong with being in love."

"I'm not saying it is, but even if she did love me I– I would find a way to hurt her. Anyway. she's happily married now, it's too late." Saying it out loud doesn't hurt him any less like he thought it would. Harry sighs in defeat before rising from the chair, "she's everything to me, I wouldn't mess with her head by confessing my feelings, deep down I always knew she deserved better and now she has it and that's good enough for me." The musician disappears through the corridor where his everlasting love did just a few minutes ago, he paused for a moment outside her room, pondering whether to barge in and just follow his instincts, kiss her like he should've done after winning that award back in 2014.

Harry shakes his head and goes straight to his room, he reminds himself that it was time to let her go. It's for the best. He is not good enough for her, he can't even write a song for her, about her. He mustn't love her that much then.

What Harry doesn't know is that he can't write a song about her because he loves her too much, the poor lad can't even figure out where to start. But he's about to get rid of that curse in a day or two, he just needs to be patient.

The reward for it came, all of a sudden Harry wrote too many songs about her until she inevitably became aware of the situation they were in. Harry vowed to stay away from Jane’s life after recording the album. He dated people that didn’t remind him of her, and even moved temporarily to Japan. But despite all his efforts, four years later Harry still finds himself thinking about her, everything seems to be tainted by her. The music he adores, the new dinner recipes he cooks, the books he chooses to read.

Completely out of options he agreed to this blind date his friends set up for him.

He arrives at the modest restaurant they so kindly chose for the occasion. “All you have to do is wear something nice and show up.” Alexa reminded him over the phone last week.

This is a new first for him, it is also exciting, to take a seat at a table for two conveniently placed at the back, pretend to pay attention to the menu but let his green eyes avert to whoever approaches. Harry is having a great time, he knows that soon his date will arrive. He wonders what they’ll be like.

According to Alexa and Pixie, the person arriving is the perfect match for their young friend. Harry can only hope they like Vietnamese cuisine because that’s apparently this place’s special offer this week. If he’s lucky enough the date will agree to share a starter and perhaps two main courses, that way he doesn’t have to choose between one or the other.

“Here’s your table.” Harry hears the waiter speak and his gaze meets a very familiar figure standing beside him. It can’t be.

“Excuse me, there must be a mistake, I’m waiting for someone else.” Harry protests.

The waiter shakes his head and shows him the notepad with some specifications written down. “Nothing wrong, got specific instructions from Miss Chung, a lady will come in to say is here for Geldolf’s blind date, you are sitting at the table they reserved. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.” He is quick to explain and disappear.

Jane sits because there is no way she can stand any longer, her legs are about to give out from the commotion. This was not the blind date she was expecting either. It’s been at least four years since she last saw Harry. The night after he finally admitted being in love with her, waiting for a reaction, anything from her, after what seemed like hours but was only ten minutes later, he walked out of her house and entire life, leaving her confused and upset.

“How’ve you been?” she asked after confirming that Harry wasn’t going to up and leave.

“Pretty fantastic, until you arrived.” He’s never spoken to her like that before, with so much affliction in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

“I was set up on a blind date by Pixie—

He interrupts her. “That’s fucking convenient, did you all went to this much trouble, just to mock me? I thought they were my friends, you know, that even after everything, they cared about me.” Harry stops, his voice breaks, he’s so angry, hurt and confused by the situation. “Did your husband come along, to witness my humiliation too?” He looks around, trying to find the man of Jane’s dreams.

“I wouldn’t know if he’s here, haven’t seen him since we got divorced three years ago.” She snaps before hiding behind the menu from a gobsmacked Harry.

The words he’d been waiting to hear were finally out of her mouth. Unlike the million times he dreamt about this happening, Harry is not sweeping her off her feet and running away into the sunset holding her hand. Instead he reaches out to touch her arm, testing the waters. He waits for her to lower the menu and surprisingly there are no tears in her eyes. Perhaps only a bit of sorrow that is quickly replaced with confusion, at how fast her heart raced after Harry’s touch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is back to oozing the tenderness he reserves just for her. Jane nods.

“But can we share a rice bowl and Pho noodle soup?” 

“Yes, and dessert too!” Even after four years Harry’s sweet tooth hasn’t changed, Jane sighs before the waiter is back to take their order.

Keeping a conversation between the two of them is not hard at all, even if it is an awkward topic —her not so recent divorce. “We didn’t have anything in common anymore, there were so many fights every single day. When I finally suggested the separation, he seemed relieved and I felt like a complete fool.” Jane remembers the sigh of comfort that came out of the man she once loved with all her heart before that rainy afternoon, when she finally decided that she’d had enough. “He left that night, hadn’t seen him since, his lawyer took care of everything,” a sour laugh escapes her lips, Harry’s eyes are full of sympathy for her. “I’m sorry for ruining your blind date, I know you’ve never been to one before.” Of course she did, she knows him better than anyone.

“This has to be the greatest date I’ve ever been to.” He speaks without a second thought. 

All those years Harry spent away from Jane were not going to be in vain. He was not going to neglect the feelings he still had for her. That affection he felt for her, only her. Harry shifts in his seat, this is not at all how he planned it, in a restaurant full of people on fucking Valentine’s day. It almost seemed like a tacky move.

But after all this time of pining for her, hating her and himself at times. Harry was brave enough, it was now or never, he didn’t want to wait any longer, not after his friends schemed and executed this soppy plan to bring the two soulmates together. Before she could take the final bite of dessert that Harry kindly left for her. The world stopped.

“I don’t want this to end...” Harry says with a dimpled smile she can’t look away from. “I’d like to take you out on a second date, a third, fourth, fifth. Believe me when I tell you, I have planned up to a thousand of them.” He takes her hand in his and can feel her pulse race along his own. The smile splits his face again, because he knows, he feels, he sees it in her beautiful eyes. “Janey, you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold on to. I know there is a name for this emotion, I’ve written songs about it, but now I don’t think it’s a word big enough for us.”

She squeezes his hand and breaths out a laugh, tears of joy brimming out of her eyes. “Let’s call it love, until we come up with a better name for it.” Harry agrees and just then, Jane brings up his hand to her lips. 

His skin tingles where she kisses him for the first time and he beams at her.

There’s a first for everything, and although it feels like it for Jane and Harry, this isn’t by any means the first time they confess their love for each other. It was always there, in every laugh they shared, every song they wrote together, every touch. It was on Harry’s unwavering devotion, on his impatience and selfless actions throughout the years.

They were bound to be together, their story didn’t begin on that initial blind date, it did years ago after he caught a glimpse of her shiny black hair on the morning she moved into the house across the street.

Harry drives her back to her new flat on the other side of the city, enjoying every minute of the long ride, happy to hear her ramble about her newest obsession with romantic novels and burst out laughing after Jane confesses that sometimes she doesn’t finish reading books she likes, just to pretend the story keeps going. With a quick kiss to the back of her hand he completely agrees.

No tale is more compelling than one that never ends.

[l0k1l1k3smcr]

Not to self diagnose but i don't think this interaction should've went like this...

So about a week ago i was making dinner for me and my folks. (yes i still live w/ them, and yes they still gaslight me💀 but that's beside the point-)

It was going fine, I'd finished most of the food (i can't remember all of what i made now smh) and i was getting ready to check something in the oven because the timer beeped.

Now, jsyk i have a horrible memory, always have. So bad in fact i forget things within like 3-5 minutes, such fun... Sorry anyway, i had forgotten if the oven had beeped once or twice (like if i had put the biscuits back into the oven) and so i decided to ask my ma and her bf.

Here's how that went:

Me *standing by the oven, already confused*: this is the first time the oven has gone off right?

Mom's bf *joking but i can't tell that he is*: no it's the second time.

My mom *shaking her head while looking at me*: it's the first.

Me: ok, so it's the first?

Mom's bf *still joking*: no the second, they're done.

Me *becoming even more confused bc i can't tell that he is joking*: are... Are you sure?

Mom's bf: oh yeah, totally!

My mom *shaking her head and now laughing*: no they still need more time.

Our family friend *laughing and joking w/ mom's bf*: no dude they're done!

Me *now visibly shaking and on the brink of tears*: ...

My mom *see's that I'm not okay*: hey guys stop

Mom's bf *turns around to finally see I'm not good*: what did i do?

So yeah, that wasn't a fun experience and it was the only time it's happened to me. I just thought I'd share this and maybe some nice people could help validate the way i was feeling, i guess. (Now I'm worried i sound like I'm a whiney teenager, my apologies)

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes : RELOADED

More safe house shenanigans as the gang looks for leads.

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : My Damsel in Distress

Delayed Flight 

John 'Soap' MacTavish

Task Force 141 - Disbanded

Safehouse 110197, Brazil

Soap haven't slept like this for quite a long time. He almost felt guilty that he's peacefully sleeping all while the world was in chaos. 

Slowly got up after noticing that Alex and Ghost were still asleep beside him, they looked like they just slept and he didn't bother waking them up for breakfast. Another scan of the room indicated that everyone else is downstairs. 

John quickly tiptoed across the room and swung the door open. On the other side of the door was France who looked focused while carrying two mugs of coffee.

"Oh! You're up!" she said in surprise as her coffee mugs wobbled. John's quick reflex immediately caught her hands and held them tight until it stabilized.

"I'm sorry I surprised you. Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, a smirk escaped his face as he noticed a faint blush from the female's cheek.

"Yeah. I brought you coffee since the hot water was almost out and you were still asleep." she stammered, not making eye contact to him. Soap looked curious, where was the woman that confidently rejected him yesterday? 

"Aww. So you are concerned!" he mused, holding her hands tight, drawing the steaming coffee mug close to him.

"Not really. I just thought that you're the last one to drink some so the kettle would finally be empty. Don't get your hopes too high, MacTavish." she gently shoved him the mug and carefully stormed off. There she was, back on her guard.

"Well, thanks for the concern." He greeted as he stepped down the stairs while sipping his coffee and met with everyone in the living room.

"Aren't we supposed to do recon for Samantha?" He asked, addressing the leaders who were casually reading a newspaper.

"Negative." Jack said, not looking at the Scottish soldier.

"We still have fuel from Nikolai's plane but we can't waste in on suspicion alone. We have to get solid intel." Price added.

"So we're like chilling here. Doing nothing." He said.

"Not exactly nothing. Ghost might have a lead anytime soon. For now, why don't you run some errands. Maxine needs some things for us here." Price replied, eyes still focused on the paper.

"John?" Maxine peeked from the kitchen and both Price and Soap turned to her.

"I meant Price." she dismissed, making Soap turn away from embarrassment.

"Can I come with them instead of making a list?" she asked, Soap could see Roach behind her eyeing on the interaction. 

"Sure. You've got three bodyguards with you. Just make sure you're always with at least one of them." he muttered. Beside him, Jack stood up and placed the paper on the table. 

"All-righty then, I'll lead you to the town just this once. Next time out, you'll be on your own. It's quite a long walk. And you lad, dress less suspicious." he pointed to Soap's camo pants. Soap actually felt scared at Alex's former CO. His very being still intimidated the Scot.

"I'll be back in a minute." he mumbled and dashed upstairs while France walked by Maxine to the door.

~

"I know Price told us to wear civilian clothing but for some reason you still have the ability to stand out and raise suspicion." France announced as the small team of four exited the safe house en route to the nearby town.

"Is it the hair?" Soap quickly placed one of Price's bucket hats and flashed a grin at the two ladies behind him. "Happy now?" he asked.

"Aside from the fact that you're wearing a t-shirt too small for your size? Yep. When did you last buy clothes for yourself?" France replied sarcastically and asked. Maxine giggled as she walked beside her sister, something she started to accept and try to recall.

"You're just finding an excuse to look at me." He muttered as he dashed to catch up with Jack, who was peacefully enjoying the walk.

"I'm amazed as to how you two act like you're not soldiers right now. How do you do it?" Jack chuckled as he rolled his eyes to Soap's direction, trying not to laugh at the Scot. If he was being honest, the hat did him a worse job. It made his head look small and unproportional to his bulky build. He turned back to France and Maxine who were silently signaling him to keep quiet.

The road was quite long and Soap finally found a small puddle of water to look at how he looked. No wonder they were giggling. He looked like a teddy bear who had a small head.

He then shyly took off his hat and glanced back at the puddle. Maybe it was time for him to buy larger clothes.

"Yeah. Guess someone has to help me pick some clothes as well." he muttered, while France paced beside him and gave him an assuring smile.

"I could always help, John." she said cheerfully and their eyes met. John slowly felt the sincerity on her smile, his heart sped and he found himself inching his face closer to her.

"The town's almost there!" Alex yelled from the distance as the two broke their gazes toward each other and quickly caught up with the two.

Awkward silence. They walked together behind Jack and Maxine who were now discussing what Jack's interests were back in the day. Not that it mattered to John, as all his mind was thinking was this pretty lady walking beside him. He wanted to graze his hand against hers, just to feel her smooth touch, he wondered if she'd let him hold her.

But he insisted, France was more of a slow but steady kind of person. She pointed it out to him multiple times and if he really wanted them to work, he had to do it the old-fashioned way. Sure the kiss was sudden, but what they had back at the Gulag was something worth waiting for and kissing her anytime now would never feel the same as the first.

Jack and Maxine quickly split off toward the market while the two of them remained by the center of the plaza. John scratched his head as he stuttered to ask her where to go.

"So… um… where to?" He asked.

"Looks like they got some cool jackets over there! You think you look good on those?" She asked excitedly.

"What do you think?" He asked shyly.

"Hmmmm.. Maybe… I'm not quite sure." She replied. John expected the classic you'd-look-better-without-any joke but she's not that kind of girl, and he's digging it.

When they say time flies by when you're having fun, John resonated with the quote. They spent most of the time laughing over clothes whose designs didn't make much sense and ended up buying most of them. Despite all the things going on around the world, John felt normal when he's with her, something he hasn't felt in quite a while. He'd even imagined that they're actually boyfriend and girlfriend whenever people around look at them. He was happy. He could get used to this.

~

It was about lunch time when they returned to the Safe house, and the scenery inside was the most unexpected thing ever.

Price was sleeping by the couch, his whole head was covered by a newspaper which had "End' times" written as the headline. Ghost and Roach were fighting over a piece of broccoli on the table while Alex sat by the stairs, wearing a shirt with a huge whale printed on it, playing with a lighter, flicking it open then closing it back as he stared at the flames.

"So that's where Smokey went." Soap muttered.

"Smokey?" France asked.

"My lighter." Soap replied confidently.

"Really?" 

"Yep." he said, popping the 'P' as he unloaded most of the supplies to the kitchen.

"What happened here?" Jack asked, taking off his jacket, completely regretting wearing it in a tropical country.

"Roach ate my broccoli!" Ghost complained.

"Ghost ate my pie!" Roach complained back as Jack sighed and placed a palm on his face.

"We had pie?" Soap asked, his eyes beamed at the table, only to be disappointed that there was none.

"Technically it's a tart and it's supposed to be for Maxine." Ghost smiled shyly eyeing at Maxine.

"Well, it didn't have her name on it so I assumed…" Ghost replied.

"You don't have to assume! You should've asked!" he yelled.

Soap was amazed at the spectrum of the team, which ranged from very righteous and courageous warriors to actual toddlers. It made him happy that he joined this little group he could call family.

~

Another day had passed and they still had no leads. But Ghost looked like he was onto something as Soap found him with Price as they discussed matters that sounded serious. He just hoped it was a lead. He's starting to worry about Alex who was constantly moping around. With nothing to work on, all he could focus on was Samantha.

"Guess you liked playing with that lighter so much." Soap leaned by the door, looking concerned at his comrade.

"Hey man. How was the market." Alex asked, his tone was nonchalant, almost lifeless.

"Well, it was busy. Jack led us there because you were asleep all morning…"

"Yeah. I couldn't go there. We shared so many memories in that town. I just can't handle it at the moment." He frowned and tossed him the lighter which Soap caught immediately.

"Thanks for this. And if you ever need someone to talk to… We're here for you, pal." Soap said awkwardly. The term pal was very American and he thought it'd be appropriate.

"Thanks, pal." Alex chuckled and stood up. 

"Let's go get dinner." Alex added, his eyes were fueled with determination. And Soap was happy that he's taking small steps to recover.

Next Chapter : Lurking in the Shadows

Notification Squad my Beloved

@beemybee @smokeywhalee @enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @ricinbach @whimsywispsblog

[myhockeyworld87]

Favorite Season - Jonathan Toews

Word Count: 8,690

POV: Jon’s

Notes: So this is me in my sad bitch hours, so let me apologize in advance to everyone. This story just sort of popped into my head when I listened to Mariah Carey’s Miss You Most at Christmas Time and so I decided to put it down on paper so to speak. Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, but hopefully that will change with the new year. Guess I needed a little cleanse, but I’ll post more on that later. Happy Reading and Happy New Year! I hope you are spending it with friends or family or both. May 2021 bring you peace, joy, health and happiness!

Sidenote: This is not my gif

Second Sidenote: Wishing Jon the best and hoping that he is able to be back on the ice soon!

People always assumed when you talked about what season you loved the most, that you meant hockey, for obvious reasons of course; it was your profession, but once you'd met (Y/N), the word season took on a whole new meaning. You'd kindly respond and tell them no, that wasn't the season you were talking about. They then assumed that you'd meant spring, for that's when (Y/N) walked into your life. Well, ran into was more like it. She'd been rushing to the United Center for an interview for a summer internship program, while you were on your way out. Neither one of you had been paying attention, which is how you'd ended up holding her in your arms that first time. You knew from that first moment that you never wanted to let her go.

 "Oh, I'm so sorry," (Y/N) said as she tried to regain her footing.

 "No, it's my fault. I should've been watching where I was going." She stepped out of your arms to pick up the strewn contents of her bag and being the gentlemen that you were, you knelt down to help her. "Here let me help you." You picked up a small paperback book and glanced at the title. "Alors tu apprends le Francais?"

 "Oh geez, this is so embarrassing," she admitted, a blush staining her cheeks. "I just bought this book a week ago, in hopes to learn French but I'm afraid I don't know a word of what you said…well, other than French." She laughed softly to cover up her embarrassment, but the sound was like a melody that you wanted to play over and over again.

 "I just asked if you were learning French." You handed the book back to her with a smile, as you both stood up off the ground.

 "Well, don't I feel stupid." She placed the book back in the bag, then placed it on her shoulder. "But yes, I'm trying to learn French. I'm hoping to go to Paris after graduation. Which gives me approximately one year to learn the language, you so eloquently speak."

 "Thank you, but I grew up speaking it, so it comes naturally."

 "Ah, well, you're lucky." She took a step away. "I've got to run. Again, so sorry for bumping into you."

 "It really wasn't your fault."

 "We'll call it a draw," she said with a lift of her shoulder as she turned and walked away. It was then you noticed a small snowflake charm on the ground.

 "Wait, you forgot this." She turned back around, meeting you halfway.

 "Oh, this must have fallen off my keychain again. Thank you, I would've been devasted had I lost this. I owe you one."

 You weren't sure if they were just words spoken or if she truly meant them, but you decided to take a gamble. "How about dinner?"

 Her beautiful eyes got even larger, at your poor attempt to ask her out, and you thought you'd just made an idiot of yourself. "Um…sure." She dug into her bag pulled out a pen, then tore a page of her learn to speak French book out. She scribbled down her name and number, then handed it over to you. "Call me." Then she turned and took off again. "Sorry, I'm really late." She was halfway down the hall as you stood there glancing between her name and her. "Hey what's your name?" she called out.

 "It's Jon."

 "Make sure you bring my page to dinner. I expect you to teach me how to say whatever's on that." The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she disappeared down the hall. You called her later that night, and then the following day and every day after that. By the end of spring her French had improved, but not to the point where the two of you could have full conversations without her questioning words here and there. Yes, that spring had been magical and if someone would've asked you as summer started, you probably would've said that it was your favorite season. But then summer did start, and well that meant you got to see (Y/N) lounging by the lake in a bikini. Your twenty-year-old self thought there was no better season than this. Again though, that wasn't the season that would stand out in your mind. Nor would it be fall, when just after six months of dating her you told her you loved her.

 It hadn't been some grand gesture like you see in the movie. Rather it was really quite simple. You'd just lost the season opener to the Nashville Predators. It was your first season as captain of the team and you'd really felt the pressure; more from yourself than anyone else. You were the last to come out of the locker room, and you were feeling pretty defeated, but there stood (Y/N) leaning against the wall, holding a piece of paper which read, 'Tu Les Auras La Prochaine fois.' But it wasn't the sign saying that you'll get them next time that made your heart skip a beat, it was seeing her smiling face holding it that did it for you. "Je t'aime." The words were out of your mouth before you could think about it, and you didn't want to take them back. She looked a bit startled and unsure of what to say. "It means I love you, silly. Man, I really thought your French was getting better."

 "I…I know what you said. I just want to make sure, you meant it."

 "Je t'aime, Te Quiero, Ti Amo, they all mean the same, (Y/N). I love you. I probably should've said it the day I met you, but…" She still didn't say anything and suddenly you were starting to wonder if maybe today was too soon. "You don't have to say it back."

 "No…I mean…Yes…" She closed her eyes then, gathering her thoughts. "Damn, I said that all wrong. I love you too, Jon. Je t'aime." Her lips were on yours then, the kiss was like so many you shared these last few months, only there was more heat, more passion as you poured all your love for her into it. "Let's go home," she softly whispered when you broke apart, a glint in her eye that told you she wanted to show you how much she really loved you.

 Your lips quirked up into a smile. "Anything you want, mon amour."

 Yes, fall definitely was one of your favorite times, but it was Christmas that always held a special meaning.

 That first Christmas would always hold a special place in your heart. You could remember it like it was yesterday.

 You'd just come home from a quick road trip to Detriot. You dropped your bags off at your place and then headed over to (Y/N)'s apartment. When you got there, caricatures of her and her two roommates were drawn on the door, all three dressed for Christmas and around a cartoon tree. You had a hard time knowing where to knock for all the decorations on the door. (Y/N) came scurrying to the door. "You're back," she said jumping into your arms and kissing you soundly. Your lips never left hers as you stepped into the apartment.

 "Mmm, I see someone missed me."

 "I always miss you, but I'm glad you're back. You're just in time to help me hang the rest of these decorations. I could use your height."

 "Oh, so now you only want me because I'm tall." She released you then swatted you on the arm.

 "No, but it doesn't hurt. Here can you help me string these lights up?"

 You took the strand and hung them up per her instructions. "Boy, you really go all out for Christmas."

 "But of course, don't you?"

 "Not really. I don't even have a tree."

 "Wait, what? You don't have a tree?" She repeated your exact words as if the thought was impossible.

 "It's not really a huge deal in my family, besides I'm usually never home because of hockey," you told her as you finished hanging the lights. (Y/N) walked over to the closet, grabbed her shoes, and put on her coat, as soon as you were done. "Uh, babe, where are you going?"

 "To go get you some Christmas decorations." She opened the door, then looked back when you didn't follow. "Are you coming?" You had no choice but to follow her.

 The rest of the afternoon was spent picking out lights, ornaments, a tree, and more decorations than you could fit in your shopping cart, but you didn't mind being dragged from store to store as (Y/N)'s face lit up in every one of them. "Ok, star or angel?" she asked you holding up two tree toppers, but before you could answer she kept going. "I mean part of me thinks that we should go with the star. It's pretty traditional and well they always sing about hanging the star on top of the tree, but I like the symbolism of the angel."

 You looked both of them over when she finally decided to take a breath. "Angel, definitely." She turned the figurine towards her looking it over, while you walked behind her, letting your hands slide around her waist so you could pull her close. When she turned back to look at you, questioning your choice, you simply said, "You're my angel and she reminds me of you." She kissed you then, right there in aisle C8, amidst the Christmas decorations.

 "Angel it is then." She set the tree topper in the cart and the two of you headed to the checkout. On the way there, you spotted a sprig of mistletoe and tossed it in the cart unbeknownst to (Y/N). It wasn't until the tree was up that night, that she found it. "I don't remember putting this in the cart."

 "You didn't. I did." You took the mistletoe out of her hand and went to hang it up in the archway. "If we're going for full-on Christmas, we can't forget the best part." Grabbing her hand, you lead her over to where you'd just hung the little green sprig.

 "You really think you need this, to get me to make out with you?" Your hands encircled her waist as she spoke the words, and you drew her in close to you.

 "Well, no. This is just an excuse." You pecked her lips quickly. "Besides, this is my first time decorating for this holiday, I might as well go all out."

 She returned the kiss, only it was more heated as you slid your tongue inside her. She moaned into your mouth before pulling back. "In that case, let's make it a little more memorable." She stepped out of your embrace, her fingers trailing down to the button on your pants. It slipped out of the buttonhole easily, before she slid the zipper down. You sucked in a breath, as her hands snuck inside the waistband of your boxers and she slid them and your pants all the way to the ground. (Y/N) fell to her knees, her hands skating up your thighs as you felt her warm breath fan across your cock. It twitched before you felt her lips place a kiss right on the head. Her lips trailed all the way up and down the length of your shaft, teasing you.

 "Babe, you're killing me." A wicked glint in her eye was her answer back, as she placed her puckered lips on the head one last time before she finally took you inside her mouth. Your hands threaded through her hair as she sunk down to take most of you in. She took her free hand and wrapped it around the length that didn't fit inside and gave it a gentle squeeze, then her mouth started to work its own little bit of Christmas magic as she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked on your cock. "Damn, baby that feels so good," you hissed out, your hips rocking a bit into her mouth. If this was (Y/N)'s idea of Christmas traditions you were all for it, and mistletoe was definitely going to be a staple to your decorating every year.

 (Y/N)'s free hand slipped down to your balls where she cupped them and you felt yourself close to bursting. Your body tingled as she hummed around your cock. With her mouth and hands on you it felt like there was enough electricity coursing through your body that you could light up a million strand of Christmas lights at the moment. "(Y/N), I'm going to…" she didn't stop though just took your cock deeper until you swore you hit the back of her throat. It was that move, that pushed you over as you spilled your seed in her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, though some dribbled out and you thought it was hot as hell.

 That night would forever live in your mind, as you returned the favor by making her cum not once but twice under that same mistletoe. Even though, it was one of your favorite memories from that first Christmas. It wasn't that, that made Christmas your favorite season. It was the way that (Y/N) embraced the joy of the season in everything she did. Even the simplest things were a little brighter with her around. She made everyone around sparkle and shine just like tinsel on a Christmas tree. Not that she wasn't always that way, but there was just something special about (Y/N) and Christmas and thus it became your favorite time of year.

 There had been no Christmas break that year in the NHL, meaning you had no time to head back home, so (Y/N) had invited you to her house to be with her family. They had welcomed you with open arms and you had found out, why she'd loved Christmas so much. Her family went all out, decorations were everywhere and presents were piled high. They'd included you in all their traditions, from frosting to cookies to playing Christmas charades. They even had you cut a piece of wheat for Baby Jesus's manager, as was their annual custom to do before opening presents Christmas morning. That first Christmas had set the tone for all those to follow after it.

 As Christmas drew to a close that year, you knew one thing for sure. That you never wanted to spend another one without her. It was an easy decision to ask her to move in with you, once she graduated college, and right before that Christmas that year, the two of you bought your first place together. To commemorate the event, (Y/N) had a special ornament made in the shape of a key.

 Hockey took precedence the following year, as you won the Stanley Cup and it seemed like the summer and fall flew by. One thing was for sure though, and that was that (Y/N) was with you every step of the way. You knew you had to make that Christmas extra special. It was the first time your family flew in for the holiday. (Y/N)'s family all came to your place as well that year. The house was filled with love and laughter and was about to get a little more exciting.

 All the presents had been unwrapped and everyone was lounging in the great room. "I think there's one more present here," you pointed to a box you had hidden off in the corner. "Looks like it has your name on it, babe."

 (Y/N) took the gift and looked at the tag. "It doesn't say who it's from."

 "Well, that happens from time to time. You know Santa's elves are really busy this time of year," her mom chimed in, giving you a little wink. "Go ahead and open it."

 She tore through the layer of paper to the box, then lifted the lid, which happened to reveal a smaller box. "Oh my god," she exclaimed, laughing as she took that wrapped package out and removed the paper again. Lifting the lid, she found yet another box. "You've got to be kidding me. Did you do this?" She was staring straight at you because she knew this was totally out of your character.  All you could do was simply shrug. The unwrapping went on for another six layers until she finally revealed a small black velvet box. All your family gasped as she went to open it. Her eyes were fixated on the container, as she slowly pulled back the lid. The look of excitement on her face was almost too much for you, and then her face fell, exactly like you thought it would. "There's nothing in it." She whispered, her voice small as she lifted her eyes to you. You could feel her family and yours glaring at you for pulling a stunt like this. You decided now would be a good time to put everyone out of their misery.

 Dropping down to one knee in front of her, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the extravagant ring that you'd had made for her. The gasp from everyone this time was probably heard down the street as they took in their first glimpse of the engagement ring. (Y/N) covered her mouth with her hands and you saw one lone tear slip down her cheek; a happy one, you hoped. "(Y/N), I was going to leave this in the last box, but then I couldn't. For your real present isn't this ring. It's me. That is if you'll have me." She was already shaking her head yes before you even had a chance to ask her the question. "I guess what I'm asking is if you'll spend every Christmas from now until the end of time with me?" Another tear slid down her cheek and this time you knew for sure it was a joyful one. "(Y/FN), will you be my wife?"

 "Yes, Jon, yes!" She was down on the ground in your arms kissing you before you could blink. She almost tackled you to the carpet, but your hand reached out and steadied you both on the end table beside you. That's when you realized the ring popped out of your hand and had fallen somewhere amongst the pile of wrapping paper.

 You broke from the kiss immediately. "Shit, I dropped the ring."

 "I don't care. You're my present and apparently my future as well." She locked her lips with yours again. The two of you were so caught up in each other, you forgot about the rest of your family in the room; who had now gone on a search for the engagement ring.

 "Found it," your mom said breathing a sigh of relief. You took it and slipped it on (Y/N)'s finger making it official. That Christmas was definitely one of the most memorable.

 The following summer you married. Most people expected the two of you to have this big grand wedding, which would've taken another year or more to plan, but neither you nor (Y/N) wanted that. Instead, it was a quiet ceremony with just family and close friends, exactly what you wanted, as you couldn't wait for her to be your wife. That Christmas was your first as husband and wife, and there was more than one Mr. and Mrs. Toews ornament hanging off the tree.

 Payback came your second Christmas as a married couple. There you were opening box after box. "Really babe? I would've expected this last year."

 "Gotta keep you on your toes, Mr. Toews."

 You unwrapped yet another box. "So is the Rolex we looked at a couple weeks ago in here?" She mimicked your shrug from two years ago. It had to be the watch, for the shrug was always (Y/N)'s go to move when she didn't want to tell you that you were right. Sure enough, as you peeled back the paper on the last package, there was the signature green box of the famous company. "Nice try babe, but I guess I outsmarted you this time." The hinge creaked as you opened the box, but you were shocked when there wasn't a watch inside, but a positive pregnancy test. "Are you…?"

 Your eyes locked with hers and she was nodding her head. "Yes, yes we are." Your lips were on hers in an instant, as this time you were the one with tears in your eyes.

 "I don't get the big deal over a watch." You heard your brother say in French in the background.

 "They're having a baby you idiot," your dad told him, cuffing him upside the head.

 Levi Abram Toews was born on July twenty-fifth of the following year, giving you a little bit of Christmas midway through the following year. His first Christmas was probably one of your favorites. At six months old, he was sitting up and just starting to crawl. (Y/N) had to move all the floor decorations up, because he started to chew on all the snowmen that he could grab. Levi's little eyes sparkled as he was mesmerized by all the twinkling lights and bulbs. You thought you couldn't love Christmas anymore, but seeing it through your son's eyes made the holiday even more joyous.

 When 2013 Christmas rolled around it had you hanging another Stanley cup ornament on the tree as the Hawks had won yet another one. It seemed as though the moment (Y/N) stepped into your life all the pieces just fell into place. She truly was the angel on top of the tree.

 You didn't think anything remarkable happened the Christmas of 2014 but by Valentine's day it became clear that your wife was pregnant again, and your new little one had to have been conceived on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. It too would always hold special meaning whenever you looked at your baby girl. Elizabeth or Lizzie as you liked to call her, joined your little family on September 25th, 2015. Making her the cherry on the cake to winning your third Stanley cup. Lizzie was daddy's girl and everyone knew it, even your wife. Of course, there were a few ornaments on the Christmas tree that year. One with Lizzie's picture in the cup, along with her first Christmas ornament, all got hung alongside the three Stanley Cup ornaments and Levi's bulb. Your tree was getting quite full.

 As were your wife's hands apparently, as you could see (Y/N) getting more and more tired as Christmas 2016 rolled around. Oh, she was still her fun-loving and joyful self, but she also looked completely exhausted most days. She would dust off any concerns and tell you that was the price she paid for having two kids under the age of four. "Babe, why don't you come and sit down," you told her having just gotten back from your last road trip before Christmas, which was only three days away.

 "I can't. I still need to finish wrapping the gifts, then I've got cookies to bake, and get the food prepped for Christmas Eve dinner."

 "What can I do to help?" You asked rubbing her shoulders as she worked in the dining room wrapping the presents since the kids were finally in bad.

 "You could…" She spun around to talk to you and that's when your heart fell out of your chest as she collapsed right into your arms. Your blood ran cold as you saw color draining from her face. Gently as you could, you laid her down on the floor, calling out her name. "(Y/N)…baby…(Y/N) please wake up." You ran and grabbed your bag knowing that you had smelling salts in there that the team used every now and then. Breaking it open, you wafted the scent over her nose, praying the whole time for her to wake back up. It took a bit, but eventually, she did rouse. "Oh thank god."

 "What happened?"

 "I was going to ask you. You just fainted in my arms." She made a move to get up but you could see that another bout of something had hit her again. "No just stay there. I'm calling the team doctor."

 "Jon, don't. I'm sure I'm just tired. I'll be fine."

 It was too late for her to try to change your mind as you already had the doctor dialed up. He asked a few questions, basically checking to see if she could be pregnant, but that wasn't an option as she'd just finished her period two days ago. He recommended that you head to the hospital and get (Y/N) checked out. It was a fight to get her there, especially so close to Christmas, but eventually, she gave in and once her parents came to watch the kids, the two of you were on your way.

 You rushed into the emergency room, where (Y/N) went through a series of tests. You hadn't realized until that moment, when (Y/N) was laying in the hospital bed, that she'd lost some weight and seemed very fatigued. Your wife was always this strong and unmovable force, yet right then she looked so frail. Mentally, you kicked yourself for not noticing these things earlier.  After hours of testing, the emergency room doctor came in to speak to you both. He told you that there was definitely something off in her blood work and that he wanted to admit her for further testing. (Y/N) put up a fight, not wanting to be in the hospital another minute. She insisted she had way too many things to do than just laying around waiting for them to tell her she would be fine.

 "You're staying and that's final." She argued with you, but in the end, you won out again.

 Thankfully, she was out of the hospital by Christmas Eve and when she came home, her parents and yours had most everything done so that it was a perfect Christmas for your children. It was two days after Christmas that you received the worst news of your life. (Y/N) had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. The doctor wasn't sure what stage it was in but wanted her for more testing before they would try and figure out treatment. It couldn't have come at a worse time, as you were just gearing up for a ten-day road trip.

 "I'm not leaving you."

 "Damnit Jon, you are going. You're the captain of the team and they need you," she shouted back to you. The two of you had been arguing since you put the kids in bed. Your parents were still there, they had decided to stay a little longer with (Y/N) being sick to help out with the kids and her parents were only minutes away, but none of that mattered.

 "I'm also the captain of THIS team," you said pointing back and forth between the two of you. "And right now, that's more important."

 "It's just some testing at this point. If there's anything more serious, you can be on the next plane back here." Her voice was quieter now, and you couldn't tell if she was just weak from cancer or tired of fighting, but you could see the determination in her eyes not to lose this battle. You needed her to keep that same look for whatever was to come and it was for that reason alone that you found yourself agreeing to go on the trip.

 She was right, you were only a phone call away, and she could facetime you in on all her appointments, which she did. It was not the way you wanted to find out that her biopsy showed her having stage two stomach cancer and that her chance of survival was thirty-five percent.

 You could see her crumbling on the screen, her mom and dad beside her for support, but it wasn't enough. You should've been there damnit. Why in the hell had you listened to her? You wanted to scream through the phone but couldn't; you needed to stay calm and be there for her. "Baby, look at me," you said in a gentle yet reassuring voice, and her tearstained eyes locked with yours. "We're going to beat this." She sniffled loudly, then straightened her back, that steely determination taking over.

 "Of course, we will." What you didn't know, was that she cried the entire ride home in the backseat of her parents' car, or how she made her dad ride around the block several times before going inside to see your children. All the while, you were on the phone with the team doctor finding out everything you could to help your wife. The two of you found the best specialist in North America and had her records sent there. A week later, you were by (Y/N)'s side at UPMC Medical Center in Pittsburgh determining the best course of treatment.

 She would do several rounds of pinpointed radiation to shrink the tumor before they would go in and remove it. It would all be followed up with some intense chemotherapy. The doctor told her she would more than likely lose her hair, and that it would make her extremely weak. They could set everything up to happen in Chicago so that she wouldn't have to leave your home.

 The surgery, which took place in February and caused you to miss a few games, went very well. The two of you stayed in Pittsburgh five days before flying back on a private plane home to your children. Who didn't seem to understand why mommy couldn't pick them up and carry them around anymore. Your parents and (Y/N)'s were godsends, as (Y/N) insisted you go back to hockey. You hated being away from her, though with every day that past you could see her strength building up. That was until the chemotherapy started.

 There were to be six to eight rounds of chemotherapy that (Y/N) was going to have to take. They would fall in four-week intervals. You were there the day she got her first one. It took over eight hours for her to receive the treatment through her port that the surgeon had put in. She seemed to take it really well or so you thought until you found her hunched over the toilet a couple days later throwing up. She tried to shake it off, act like it was nothing new, telling you it was just like being pregnant again, but you knew better. You could hear the tremble in her voice, see the tears she fought so hard to hold back, while you held back your own. You'd give anything to take this pain away from her, but you couldn't.

 It wasn't until round three that her hair started falling out in clumps. She was sitting at the breakfast table, the kids at her parents when she brushed it back to pull it out of her face. Strands of hair covered her fingers, a look of horror covering her face. "It's ok baby, we knew this would happen."

 She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. "I just thought that I made it this far with it, that maybe they were wrong." You were at her side in a minute, holding her as she started to shake from head to toe.

 "Let it out (Y/N). It's ok to be sad or mad or anything. I'm right here." It was the first time that she'd cried about it, at least in front of you.

 "It's not fair Jon," she sobbed into your chest. "I want to be there to watch my kids grow up."

 "And you will, mon amour. We're going to fight this every step of the way." She cried for a solid hour, as you held back tears of your own, telling her in a calming voice that she was going to beat this. All the while being scared as hell that she might not.

 Later that day, you helped her shave every strand of hair from her head. It was the hardest thing you'd had to do in your life. You'd rather take a ninety mile an hour puck to your face then to see your wife this broken and defeated. In the end, she took a deep breath as she looked herself in the mirror, eyes still glassy from tears. "You will not beat me," she told her reflection, then looked at your reflection. "I will fight this with every breath I have." Your lip trembled as you fought back the river of tears that threatened to spill over at her strength. Your wife was a fighter, and you knew she would conquer this disease and you'd be beside her every step of the way.

 That summer you spent every available second with (Y/N) and the kids. Treatments became a normal part of your routine. The problem was with everyone, you saw your wife getting weaker and weaker. She was practically skin and bones, even though she would force herself to eat. When she took her final round of chemotherapy in October, you breathed a sigh of relief. The doctors said they wouldn't know if the chemo had worked for a few weeks and so you waited. Praying every night that her cancer was gone once and for all, and your wife would no longer have to suffer.

 A month later, you were back in Pittsburgh, sitting in front of the doctor who held your entire fate in his hands. "I'm afraid it's not good news," he started to say, and your face drained, while (Y/N) gripped your hand tightly. "The chemotherapy hasn't responded as we'd like." Everything he said after that was a garbled mess. Your mind clouded over and there was a loud ringing in your ears. You wanted to grab this man by the throat and tell him to make your wife better. That was his job, wasn't it? He was supposed to heal people, and damn it he should've done that for (Y/N). "I'm not giving up hope yet." It was those words that finally drug you out of the blinding rage that was coursing through your veins. He proceeded to say that there was an experimental drug and that they had no way of knowing if it would work, but it might be something the two of you would be interested in trying. He handed you a bunch of paperwork to go home and read before making any decisions.

 "I think you should take it," you told her the minute you got in the car.

 "Maybe we should read what he gave us first."

 "It doesn't matter what that says (Y/N) if it means that you get to stay here with me and the kids; I think we should do it."

 "It's not a 'we' Jon. It's me who has to do this. What if it has some long-term effects or…" she started to list scenarios, that meant nothing to you.

 "The only long-term thing here is that you're dead. Do you want that? Because I don't." You were yelling at her, and you didn't want to, but couldn't she see that this drug was your only option. "I need you (Y/N). The kids need you." This time you couldn't hold back the tears as they started to fall hard and fast down your cheeks. "Damn it, I love you and I'm not willing to lose you. Do you understand me?"

 You could barely see her swallow hard as tears flooded your vision, and while you knew you needed to be strong for her; you were finally breaking. "Ok," she whispered softly, and you grabbed her holding her to your body as close as you could with the console in the middle of the car. "I'll do it."

 "You will?" you mumbled into the crook of her neck. You could feel the dampness of her shirt from your tears but all that mattered was that she agreed to take the treatment.

 "Yes," she answered pulling you back so she could look in your eyes. "I'd do anything for you, my love." You kissed her then pouring every ounce of love you had for her into it.

 The following day, after reading through all the paperwork, (Y/N) called the doctor and got set up to take the new drug. Once you were back in Chicago, she started treatments right away. The drug was aggressive, even more so than her first round of chemotherapy and within two weeks she wound up in the hospital, her immune system so compromised that you had to suit up in a gown and mask every time you went to see her. The kids weren't allowed in, which killed her, but you had them facetime her every day.

 As Christmas grew near your spirits were low. (Y/N) insisted that you put up all the decorations just as you had every year. She ordered the kids' gifts online so that they wouldn't miss out on a single thing. Her only term for taking the new treatment was that you continue to play hockey. Her parents stepped up and watched the kids while you were away. You were just returning home from a road trip, about a week before Christmas when you stopped in at the hospital to see (Y/N) before heading home. When you walked into her room, you barely recognized her. Her frail form looked almost lifeless as she lay in the hospital bed, so much so that you had to check the rise and fall of her chest to make sure she was still breathing. Thankfully she was.

 "Salut mon amour," you said in a soft gentle voice, wanting her to know that you were there but at the same time not wanting to wake her if she was asleep. She turned her head to the side to see you, a weak smile gracing her chapped lips.

 A scratchy "hi," was all she was able to muster back. You took your gloved hand and held hers in it. God, what you wouldn't give to just touch her skin and feel her once again. But since you couldn't, you stroked your thumb back and forth over her palm, hoping that she could somehow draw from your strength.

 "How are you feeling today?"

 The smile dropped, and so did your heart. "I don't think this is working Jon." It was too soon to tell. Even the doctors had said that. She just needed to hang on, give the drug more time to work. "I think we need to start preparing for the worst." Her hand squeezed yours, whether it was for support or to support you, you weren't sure.

 "No, baby, I'm not ready for you to give up yet."

 "I know Jon, and I'm fighting I really am. But it's just so hard...Hard to breathe…Hard to move. I don't feel like me anymore." A tear slipped out and though you had a glove on your hand, you reached up and wiped it away.

 "You've just gotta fight (Y/N). You've got to do it for Levi, and Lizzie, and god baby please do it for me." You were begging now, both her and god. You couldn't lose her, you weren't ready to live your life without her yet.

 "I will my love…..but Jon, there may come a day when I can't fight anymore and I need you to support me on that." You knew what she was talking about, that if the doctors wanted to put her on a ventilator, she didn't want that. Though if it could save her…you weren't sure you could follow her wishes.

 You nodded your head not willing to put in words something you couldn't promise just yet. You stayed there with her for a while; until she basically kicked you and told you to go home and get some sleep. The moment you walked in the door of your house, you screamed in anger. There were all the decorations that (Y/N) made you hang with the kids and you hated every one of them. They were torturous reminders that your wife wasn't there this Christmas, that she couldn't be with you and the kids. You grabbed the strand of garland that hung on the archway into the living room and ripped it down, throwing the ball of mistletoe across the room. It felt good, and so you tore down some more, just letting all your anger and frustrations out. It was a side of you that hardly ever came out even on the ice. Oh, you'd definitely dropped the gloves a time or two but only when someone really deserved it. Only now there was no one to fight. It was a disease and you couldn't throw it up against the boards or punch it in the jaw. So instead, you took it out on the decorations. Every wreath that hung on the wall you ripped it apart with your bare hands. Every Santa figurine that sat on the table, you smashed against the floor. You were just about the tear the stockings off the fireplace when you stopped. It was seeing your wife's name knitted into the fabric that got you and instead you carefully took it off the hook and brought it to your face as if it were her and you could simply hold her that close once again.

 "Please (Y/N), please don't leave me," you called out to the void that was your house, as you dropped to your knees, tears freely flowing down your face. It was all too much. You'd finally reached that breaking point and just laid on the flooring sobbing and praying to God to save your wife. It was the only Christmas wish you had. Sure, you'd prayed when you were younger asking god to make you a better hockey player and then that you would be drafted in the NHL, but never in your life had you wanted anything like you wanted this, for your wife to be fine, for her to live a happy healthy life with you and your children. You'd trade everything you had if you could.

 At some point, you picked yourself up and looked at the disaster that you'd made in what was once a storybook Christmas home. (Y/N) would be so disappointed in what you had done, not to the house, but to the mess that your kids would walk into when they would come home. You cleaned up the broken shards of glass, restrung the garland, and tried to salvage what you could of the other decorations you'd destroyed yet somehow the house still seemed to be missing something. There were tons of extra decorations in the closet, as your wife seemed to always buy more and more every year, well you couldn't really blame (Y/N) as you tended to help as well. So, you dragged yourself upstairs to see what else might try and make the place a bit more festive.

 It was in rummaging through the closet that you stumbled upon it. It was a simple container, not very big with the word "Love," written in script on the top. You peered inside and were stunned to find dozens of envelopes, each marked with either yours or your children's name on them. It was then that you realized they were goodbye letters from your wife, as some were addressed to Levi and Lizzie on their eighteenth birthdays or their graduations. There was even one for each of them on their wedding day. A gasp left your mouth at the realization that she didn't plan on being around for any of these occasions. You weren't sure what hurt more, the fact that she was giving up or that you'd be facing a life without her.

 All that anger and hurt from moments ago came surfacing back and you had the urge to punch your fist through the wall this time, though you fought it for the sake of your kids. Flipping through the envelopes you saw different ones with your name on them. You picked up the one that was on top of the pile marked 'To Jon on Christmas Eve.' It was heavier than what you thought and you realized that it wasn't a letter but a video. Taking the box, you headed downstairs to see what your wife had to say.

 Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn't be watching this, as you hit the play button on the remote control, yet you couldn't stop yourself. Maybe there would be something on here that could help you convince her to fight harder. It took a second for (Y/N) to come on the screen. She looked weak, yet still as beautiful as ever as she sat in the chair up in your bedroom. Her wig was on, probably in hopes that you'd remember her like she once was and not the sickly cancer patient she feared everyone saw.

 "Bonjour, mon amour." God, you loved how she spoke French to you. She'd been so earnest in her studies those early days and now was rather good at it. "I'm not sure where to start with this. I want you to know that this is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I hope that you're watching this after the kids' are in bed and you've put all the presents under the tree. God, how I'll miss doing that with you, but I know that you will make this Christmas and every one after special for our two little angels. They are so lucky to have a dad like you, just like I was so lucky to have you as my husband." Tears were streaming down (Y/N)'s face as she spoke to you on the screen, just as they were flooding your eyes.

 "I love you so much," she swallowed hard, the movement visible as her body was frail. "Even more than I love Christmas." It was a small attempt at humor on her part, and you wish that you could smile at it, but at the moment all you had were tears of sadness. "Remember that first Christmas when we bought the tree topper together. You told me then that I was your angel. Well, now I truly am. I hope that when you place her on top of the tree, you'll know that I'm smiling down at you and our babies." Your eyes automatically went to the angel on the tree. Her soft smiling eyes shining right into yours. A sob broke from you then, as you realized how much the angel looked like your wife. She had the same eyes, the same hair, and the same soft easy smile that melted your heart.

 "I'm going to miss this time of year with you; the laughter, the joy, the mistletoe. It was always my favorite season with you, though you made everyday special." You knew how she felt, for you had a feeling you'd miss her most at Christmas time. "Jon, I'd give anything to be with you right now. Just know that if I had to do it all again, I would. I'd go through every treatment, every needle, every single bit of it, if it meant one more Christmas with you…hell, even if it was one more day with you." She wiped away the tears then, visibly collecting herself to continue on with what she had to say.

 "But I want you to be happy, Jon. I want you to love again. I want you to find joy in not only Christmas but every day, even if I'm not there. And I can see you sitting there, shaking your head and telling me it's not going to happen, and maybe it won't tomorrow or the next day, but I hope it does someday. I love you too much to not want you to love again. Be happy, you deserve it." You weren't sure how she could ask this of you, there was no way that it would ever happen if she wasn't in your life.

 "Bumping into you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You were the best thing to happen to me, Jonathan Toews and for that I thank you. I couldn't have asked for a better friend, husband, or father. You will always be the love of my life...and what a life we had." There was still more of it to be had, you just knew there had to be. "I love you, Jon. Merry Christmas, my love." It took another second and then the screen went blank.

 "I love you, (Y/N)," you whispered up the angel smiling down at you. Tears clouded your vision until all the lights just seemed to melt into one giant one. This was not how things were meant to end. You laid your head back against the sofa and closed your eyes and just prayed. Even though you'd just done that hours ago, you asked God to do the impossible, to give you a Christmas miracle.

 At some point, you must have fallen asleep, for you woke up sometime later to a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Jon, sweetie, wake up, my love." You could swear that was your wife's voice. It took your eyes a minute to regain focus, but it was your wife standing over you, in Christmas pajamas, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Her hair, you thought vaguely, not some wig because she'd lost all hers, and she looked healthy, strong in fact.

 "You're here? You're ok," you said jumping up and running your hands down her arms.

 Her smile told you then that it hadn't been a dream like you thought, and you looked over to the screen on the tv, to see the Christmas message she'd sent you back up on the screen. "You were watching it again, weren't you?" she asked.

 You had to shake yourself to get the cobwebs out of your brain. It was six years ago that you found the video, though you've replayed it every year since. That first time watching it you'd wanted to run to the hospital and shake some sense into your wife, but something stopped you. Maybe deep down you knew she had never truly given up, for she had called you Christmas Eve saying that she was feeling much better. The kids had gotten to see her on Christmas day, though there were still precautions taken. It was a week later that she was home and with you as her strength continually improved. She grew stronger every day after that as well. It was months later that her cancer was declared gone by the doctors, the new treatment having saved her life and yours in the process. She was a survivor and you thanked God every day for giving you that miracle you'd asked for so long ago. "I still don't know how you found them," she said to you. "Or why you continue to watch that video every year."

 "I watch it because it reminds me of how close I was to losing you." Your arms encircled her waist now, drawing her closer to you. "And how magical the Christmas season is as it brought you back to me." You gazed into her loving eyes, yours shining with that same love you saw in hers. "And to hold you a little tighter each day." You did exactly as you said, squeezing her so that no space was between either of you, before dropping a kiss to her lips.

 "I'm not sure it was the Christmas season that helped me find the strength to fight. I'm pretty sure it was you, Mr. Toews." Her lips found yours in a soul-stealing kiss, as she poured all her love for you into it.

 You maneuvered the two of you under the archway where the sprig of mistletoe always hung. "Well, Mrs. Toews, Christmas will always be my favorite time of year, though I treasure every day with you. Joyeux Noel, mon amour."

 "Merry Christmas, Jon."  

.

[itsadamcole]

you’re not broken

fem!reader x kyle o’reilly

reader and Kyle go back to reader’s home in Philadelphia for Christmas. little does Kyle know that reader’s mother isn’t the nicest person .... “i promise you that you’re not broken”

word count: 2.5k+

warnings: angst, mentions of death / plane crash, verbal assault, fluff

— day 3 in a row ... out of (hopefully) 25 —

masterlist || request an imagine here

part 2

***

You smile as you walk up to the front door of your childhood home. Your boyfriend's hand in yours. You hope to God that your parents and siblings will be nice to you. Maybe because Kyle is here then they might.

Christmas at home hasn't been the same since your older sister's plane crash. It's been two years but since the year after she died, your family hasn't been treating you like they used to. They've started comparing you to your sister that passed, telling you that you'll never be like she was, telling you that you'll never achieve the same success that she did in WWE.

It hasn't been the same since she died. You miss your sister. You were best friends and tag partners. She was so understanding when Kyle asked you to join the Undisputed Era and was so supportive when you had a storyline against her after you joined the Undisputed Era.

Kyle knows about some of what your family has said to you, but he doesn't know about what they've said about you and comparing you to your sister.

Speaking of Kyle, he senses you're nervous even though you have a smile on your face. He tightens his grip on your hand and he says, "Relax, Y/N. If they say something to you then I'll make sure to say something back to them. No one hurts my girl without consequences."

You look up at Kyle and say, "You're the best." You smile.

Kyle smiles down at you and pecks your lips before you knock on the door.

There is shuffling behind the door as you smooth out the front of your dark red dress and move closer to Kyle.

Your younger sister, who is thirteen years old, answers the door. "Y/N! You're here!" she says happily.

"Hey, shortie," you say, laughing. "You're not exactly short anymore, are you. You're almost as tall as me. Have you grown since I last saw you?"

She giggles and says, "It's been a little bit since you've seen me, Y/N. Come home more often." Her giggles stop and she starts to pout.

You hug your younger sister and say, "I would love to come home but I have a title to defend." You look at Kyle. He smiles at you.

Ever since your parents changed their attitude toward you, you've stayed away from Philadelphia. You've been staying with Kyle in Orlando to be close to the Performance Center and Full Sail. You haven't been back home since July and it's now December. Your sister turned thirteen in the time you've been away.

"I know," your younger sister says. "I just miss you."

You kiss the side of your sister's head and say, "I miss you too. You can always come down to Florida. I'll even buy you a plane ticket if you want to come visit. Maybe get Y/B/N to come with you since he's 18."

Your older sister was almost 30 when she died. You're 28. There's a ten year difference between you and your brother and your youngest sister is 13.

Y/S/N says, "If Mom and Dad will let me go. They've been strict since the accident and they won't even let us get on a plane."

"I'll talk to them tonight," you say. "Maybe you guys can come spend New Years with Kyle and I."

Kyle nods and says, "The boys will be there too with their girlfriends and wives but we'd love to have you come down, Y/S/N."

She smiles and says, "Yay." Your sister skips inside the house and you sigh, looking up at Kyle.

"Are you naturally that good with kids or what?" you ask.

Kyle laughs and says, "Naturally that good."

You smile and reach up, pressing a kiss to Kyle's lips. You walk into the house holding Kyle's hand.

"Mom!" you call. "I'm here!"

Your mom says, "In the kitchen, sweetheart!" You walk into the large kitchen. You're greeted with the smell of roast beef as soon as you walk into the kitchen.

Y/B/N sits at the kitchen island with Y/S/N and they're playing something on Y/B/N computer. You run up behind your brother and attack him with a hug from behind. "Hey, baby bro," you say.

"Jesus, Y/N," he gasps. "You scared me and I'm trying to win as imposter."

That's when you realize he's playing Among Us. You see his name in red. "Ooh," you giggle. "Let me in at some point tonight. I wanna kick you ass."

You, Kyle, and your siblings laugh. You mother scolds, "Y/N! Language please."

"Ass isn't a bad word, mother," you sigh. "Relax."

Kyle looks at you then looks at your mom, who says, "You know such language is not allowed in this house."

You roll your eyes and say to your brother, "I'll play after dinner, if I'm still here."

Your brother nods and you take Kyle's hand, leaving the kitchen and walking into the living room. Your dad sits on the couch with wrestling on the TV.

"Hi, daddy," you smile, kissing the top of his head. "What are you watching?"

Your dad smiles and say, "Hi, pumpkin. I'm watching one of Shawn Michaels' old matches."

You sit beside your dad and Kyle sits beside you. "Nice to see you again, Mr. L/N," Kyle says.

"You too, Kyle," your dad says. "Is there a match the two of you would like to watch?"

Kyle says, "How about Randy Orton versus Drew McIntyre at Hell in a Cell? That match was amazing."

You dad says, "I agree. It's such a good match." He puts it on. "You have good taste in matches, Kyle."

He laughs and says, "Y/N and I have very similar taste in matches. We both like the matches that involve cells or weapons. Y/N likes tables."

"They're the worst to go through in real life but it's fun to watch other people go through them," you say.

Your dad laughs and says, "Your sister liked table matches too. She said the same thing. They were a pain to go through but she loved watching them."

Your mood tanks at the mention of your sister. Kyle notices this and takes your hand. You rest your head on his shoulder and watch Drew lose his title to Randy.

It's close to twenty minutes later before your mother calls, "Dinner!"

Your dad gets up, walking to the dining room. You look up at Kyle and you say, "Whatever they say, either ignore it or just let me handle it, okay?"

Kyle says, "I'm jumping in if it looks like you need help. I'm serious."

You nod and walk into the dining room with Kyle. Your mother is serving your father dinner. A lot sits out on the large table. A plate with cut up roast beef, corn sits in a bowl, mashed potatoes right next to the corn, biscuits, green beans, and a bowl of mac n' cheese all sit on the table.

You help yourself to some mac n' cheese and say, "Dinner looks amazing, Mom."

"Thank you, Y/N," she says. Her voice is cold. Obviously she's still mad about you saying the word 'ass' in front of her.

Kyle grabs some roast beef and takes a bit. "Mhm," he hums. "This is the best roast beef I've had in a long time."

You smile and say, "Mom slow roasts it in the oven. It takes all day but so worth it." Kyle smiles and takes another bite.

Y/S/N says, "Mom, can Y/B/N and I spend New Years in Florida with Y/N and Kyle?"

Mom looks at you then at your sister before asking, "How do you plan on getting back here, Y/S/N?"

You look at your mom and say, "I can accompany them back. Kyle and I leave in two days to go back to Orlando so we can just book Y/S/N and Y/B/N seats on the same flight as Kyle and I."

"Please, Mom?" your sister pleads.

"Yeah, please?" your brother chimes in.

Your mom looks at your siblings and says, "You both know how I feel about planes. They crash."

Your sister gets a sad look on her face and you say, "It's very rare, Mom. I've flown plenty of times."

"You were supposed to be on the flight that Y/OS/N was on," your mother snaps. "You realize that, right?"

A pang of hurt hits you in the chest and you say, "I'm well aware but it's not my fault that the plane crashed, Mom."

Your mother looks at you from across the table and says, "It should've been you on that plane, Y/N. Instead it was your sister, who actually made this family proud."

Kyle says, "Woah, okay. Mrs. L/N, that's not fair on Y/N's part. She had no idea that the plane would crash."

Tears well up in your eyes and you say, "I make this family proud too, Mom. I've held tag titles, I currently hold the only women's singles title in NXT. I'm in a group that has made history in NXT. I've made history with Y/OS/N as longest reigning and most reigns as WWE Women's Tag Team champion."

Your mother says, "Your sister held the Raw Women's title for a record breaking 450 days. How long have you held the NXT Women's title for?"

"348 days, and counting," you spit at her. "I'm only behind her by 100 days, which I plan on breaking. Then I plan on breaking Asuka's longest reign of 510 days just to prove to you that I can do every fucking thing that Y/OS/N did!"

Your mother's eyes widen and she says, "Curse one more time in my house and you will never be allowed back in."

You stare at her and say, "Fine. Fuck you, Mom. Fuck you for ever comparing me to Y/OS/N and fuck you for never being proud of me even though I've achieved the same success as she did." You look at your siblings. "Go upstairs and pack a suitcase. I'm taking you two with me."

They nod and run upstairs. You slam your silverware down on the table and you stand up. Your mother says, "That is not how you talk to your mother, Y/N."

You cry, "You have not been my mother since my sister died. Not the way that you've been treating me."

As you walk away, you hear Kyle say, "She's grieving too. She knows that it should have been her too, and she'll carry that with her for the rest of her life. She doesn't need her mother of all people telling her that it should've been her in the plane instead of Y/OS/N. Her sister was her best friend and she lost a lot that day too."

Your sister and brother walk down the stairs and you look at them. Your sister runs to you and hugs you. Your brother hugs you too. You hug them back.

Kyle walks out into the foyer and you look up at him. He says, "Come on. I'll change our flights to tonight and we can be down in Florida by midnight. We'll buy Y/S/N and Y/B/N some clothes when we get back to Orlando."

You nod, leaving the house with Kyle and your siblings.

***

It's right after midnight when you, Kyle, and your siblings get back to the house you share with Kyle.

You moved in with Kyle about six months ago after a year or so of dating. The house is three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, and two floors. You sigh as you walk in the door.

Kyle sets your siblings up in the guest bedrooms as you go and lay in your bedroom. You finally change out of the dress and get into one of Kyle's shirts. You curl into a ball and let out what you've been holding in.

Your face is in your pillow and your makeup is being cried off your face.

The door to the bedroom closes and Kyle sighs, "Your siblings are in bed and they're both all set up in their rooms."

You sit up and look at Kyle. He looks at you and his face falls. He grabs a box of tissues and you say, "I'm a mess, I'm sorry." You take a tissue and wipe your makeup stained tears away.

"You're okay," he says, sitting next to you. "It's okay to cry, Y/N. You don't have to be strong every day, especially after what you have been through."

You crawl over onto Kyle's lap and say, "I feel broken, Kyle. I have since my sister died in that plane crash. I feel like I haven't healed at all."

"Hey," Kyle says. "I promise you that you're not broken, Y/N. You're sad, you're grieving, but you're not broken."

You start to cry softly and say, "I miss her, Kyle. Why couldn't it have been me instead of her?"

Kyle says, "Don't say that. Please don't. I need you here. Your sister and your brother need you here. The WWE Universe needs you here. Adam, Roderick, and Bobby need you here. Don't let your mother tell you otherwise."

You look up at Kyle. He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. You say, "I love you, Kyle. I'm so in love with you."

Kyle smiles at you and says, "I love you too, Y/N. I need you here. Selfishly, a part of me is glad you were on that plane because I don't know what I would do without you."

You lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips. Kyle kisses you back before he pulls back and says, "Marry me."

"Kyle," you say, meeting his eyes.

He says, "I'm serious. Marry me. You can come to my family's house in Canada for holidays, we can spend the rest of our lives doing this. I love you, and I want to start a family with you."

You don't hesitate to nod and say, "Yes. I'll marry you, Kyle."

Kyle smiles and kisses you. You smile into the kiss. You smile for real for the first time in a very long time.

That smile doesn't leave your lips as you lay with Kyle in bed, cuddles up to him. He holds you in his arms and your legs are intertwined with his.

His fingers run through your hair. Your eyes are closed and he says, "I don't have a ring yet, by the way. I didn't even know that I was going to propose until I did."

You giggle and say, "We'll go ring shopping eventually. I just want to lay with you right now."

Kyle shifts a bit and gets comfortable. You smile and begin to doze off.

"Merry Christmas, baby," Kyle whispers. "I forgot to tell you at midnight."

You mumble, "Merry Christmas, Kyle."

Then you fall asleep.

[kiaraspeaks]

Anansi x Female!Reader: In a flash we'll meet again.

You hope that he understands one day, his father is a complicated man. Man? That's a stretch of the imagination right there. You loved Anansi, loved him more than anything and anyone else in the world, besides Charlie, but, you couldn't stay with him. Children only are able to see what you put in front of them, and Anansi painted just enough of a vision of himself to hide his world from your child. Children. What a fucking mess that is. There are days that you wished that you hadn't met him but that's a pointless line of thought, Anansi desired you, to know you, to have Charlie, long before any war. He may have driven you up a wall at one point but he was family, and you knew that despite any differences when you called he would always come.

After all that's how you met, you weren't trying to summon a God. But praying for somebody, anybody, to stop this man chatting you up in the bar. You came for a quick drink at Randy's Divebar, Anansi materialized nearby (or perhaps he was waiting in the wings the whole time, just waiting, as he had done your entire life) what might be a hideous green and yellow floral pattern worked for him, long lean lines that might make someone else seem imposing made him even more inviting despite the man yammering on and on about himself.

"Bothering you?" He said, he inhaled on the cigarette and blew smoke into the face of the man hassling you. Whichever meathead that was hassling you didn't take kindly to it, but Anansi didn't care, had never cared, didn't care that he was thinner and obviously more breakable. He out maneuvered everyone before ever setting foot in any room, that included you too. "Move."

"Or what?" They said, he'd been hunched over you for the better part of the night but he was standing up rod straight and cutting an imposing figure. First, Anansi smiled, something you learned much later masks more pain and irritation than any human body could tolerate. Next, he picked up his glass and drained it and turned it over in his hands a few times. You heard it, the sound of the glass shattering, the crunching of the bones in his face, and finally saw the mess of the meathead's face. They ran out screaming, bleeding and crying. You should've been positively frightened but you weren't. Not even as Anansi plucked glass out of hands and tossed it into the drink of the man who had annoyed you.

"That wasn't necessary." You said and nursed your drink. The bartender didn't say anything, clearly they had some type of understanding. They moved further down to tend to other customers.

"Maybe so," He said, the cigarette perched perfectly in the corner of his mouth. He pulled out the splintered shards of glass like it didn't hurt, the blood didn't bother him. He raised his bloody hand and signaled for two drinks. "But it was fun."

"For you."

"Well maybe I'll have to work harder to impress you next time." He said.

"What makes you think there will be a next time, and why would you try?" You said, he smirked, didn't smile. His smirks were harmless, adorable, thoughtful. It's dangerous to know a God so closely. You would call it fate, but Anansi hated such words. After all he thought the only stories that were written in stone were penned by him.

"You're Mr. Nancy's girl, why not try?"

"And who is Mr. Nancy?" You asked, two drinks are placed between you both and then a small container of gauze. Anansi grabbed the gauze and one of the drinks, he poured the liquor over his wounded hand and allowed it to drip perfectly into the glass with the bloody shards. He doesn't wince, sigh or suck in deep breaths of air as the booze washes over his wounds.

"Someone important, snappy dresser, charming, and I hear that he might even be single."

"If I'm his girl how is he single?" You asked,he wrapped his hand with an ease that told he got into these types of scuffles often. Again, you learn Anansi doesn't take on any war that isn't already won, that includes your heart.

"Well that sounds like a proposal if I ever heard one." He said.

"You're Mr. Nancy?"

"My friends call me Mr. Nancy, but you, you can call me whatever you want."

"What's your name?" You asked. Another charming smirk, no madness in the eyes, he tapped the growing mountain of ash into the glass with the shards and the blood and tainted alcohol, he killed the light on the cigarette and topped .

"Have dinner with me and I will tell you." He said.

"You don't even know me, Mr. Nancy."

"Well, I want to get to know you, otherwise we wouldn't still be having this conversation." He said, "Do you want to get to know me?"

"I think so." You said, he held out his undamaged hand to you and you shook it.

"My name is Anansi, and it's wonderful to finally meet you." He said and bowed his head and kissed your hand, and when he asks your name you tell him. You don't know it then but you love him, someone so in love with who you are, starting with your name and every other story that you're apart of. You expected dinner much later, perhaps in a couple days but it didn't take much prodding to get you out. Randy's food at the divebar wasn't very good and you didn't feel like fiddling with the oven tonight.

----

You wished that you could properly explain to your son that his father was a God and that made him half and if he chose have kids that would make them a fraction and yet with all the potential of full Gods. There just never is enough time and never a correct way. Even you struggle at times, Anansi appears to just be a man, impeccably dressed, always on time, and two steps ahead at any given time. You had time to walk away, if anyone could imagine doing such a thing, but you knew something was diffferent, something was wrong. Anansi warned you that he got mixed up with some bad people, that bad times might be coming eventually, gave you time to leave, time to ask questions. Maybe you didn't want to know, perhaps you thought you already knew, you suspected he was a criminal but never a God.

Sometimes he's in two places at once, some times things fall to the floor, teleport across the room, but there are times when he is so far removed from you, nothing can bring him back from that place. You were tired of being ignored, once upon a time being Nancy's girl meant something but now it meant going to bed alone and waking up alone, sometimes with Anansi having not moved from his spot in a chair at all. You came in, surprised he wasn't in a haze, he seemed to be waiting on you.

"You're late." He said. An observation and an accusation. You weren't cheating on him, you could, there were so many who wanted you and yet here you were...alone in your own relationship. The perks of being Nancy's girl.

"So." You said, he went days at a time in the same household and yet not saying a word. How dare he get up for going one night without seeing you. You'd met up with co-worker, Higgler, went out for drinks. No harm in that.

"I waited."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"I must be confused," He said and stood up and walked into the the kitchen and came to stand beside you. "Is something wrong?"

"No, you tell me, Anansi."

"Are you drunk?" He asked, yes, you were but that wasn't why this was happening. This conversation was begging to be had for a while now.

"Does it matter? Would you even care?"

"I care. Of course I care." He said, then said your name softly and pulled you into his arms. You stay still for a moment but it's hard to resist him, always has been since the moment you met him.

"Why won't you just talk to me?" You asked softly into his chest.

"Would you believe me if I told you?"

"You've never struggled with being convincing before." You said and looked up at him. Then he smiled at you, looked through you and then pulled away.

"Take a seat."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm about to tell you who I am and you should probably sit down." He said, so you do and he does tell you. Your head doesn't split open and you don't die but initially you think he's lying. He can't be a God! He just can't be! It's your human nature to emphatically deny what you don't understand.

It takes more than him politely explaining who and what he was. He sighed heavily and walked away from you. He stood in the center of the kitchen and raised one hand and touched the ceiling and flattened it, then his other hand and used his weight to pivot and climb the ceiling. If that wasn't enough, his forehead was lined with eyes and large fangs extended from his mouth. A birth defect? A disability, possibly. He can see this is a lot and came to sit at his feet.

“This can be a lot for most people.” He said.

“I’m not most people.” You said.

“I know, that’s why I chose you.” You looked down at him and took the cigarette from his hand and he lit it for you.

“What type of God are you?” You ask after a long while, you go through two more cigarettes before you feel steady enough.

“Jack of all trades.” He said. “The people need to be safe and laugh.”

“You make them all laugh?”

“I can change the story but not completely remove it, important parts have to stick. Humans are sticky and linked to one another, I can only ease the journey.” He said. “Wisdom in the form of entertainment has been easiest, you know it’s hard to tell a stupid motherfucker they’re doing something wrong.”

“Are you apart of my story?”

‘Do you want me to be?” He asked, you stand up and he doesn’t look away. Perhaps, reflecting during these final moments you see what it is. Blind faith. He believed in you. Despite him hating fate, kismet, whatever you wanted to call it, he always knew you’d choose him. Like a good book, you’d always return, even if there was an entire ocean separating you. If you couldn’t then he’d come to you. He couldn’t unmake himself a God, much like your boy won’t be able to burn away that part that calls out and sings so sweetly. You held out your hands to him and he took them.

“How long can you stick to the roof?”

“It’s not a party trick.” He said and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and spinning around with you. When he placed you back down you were standing in the bedroom.

“Says who, spiderman?” You asked and you both laugh. It’s a period of adjustment like nearly everything in your life.

----

You ultmately wish for your boy to understand that everything has a sunrise and sunset. You loved Anansi inspite of every red flag you ever saw crop up, and there came a time where loving and being in love wasn't enough. He was your husband, your best friend and beacuse of that you came to a proper agreement. A moment would come when this world and this war was too dangerous. Your boy, charlie, loathed his father because they were too much alike, both parading around in facades, both busybodies in the worst ways, both too damned pigheaded to say what was on their mind truly at times.

"So you're going to leave?" He asked, it was one of the dumbest thing you'd heard him say. You were finally debased to obvious observations, he was always so well spoken and right now he was holding up a wall watching you in your living room. You'd moved from Chicago to Florida, created a life for one another, brought a child into the world, spoke truth into the world only to watch it crumble away partly due to an invisible war you never saw and the fact Anansi spent more times chasing stories than keeping you happy. Those stories always came in many faces, younger, healthier, livelier people who seemed so different from you.

"Bags are packed. This is where we should leave things."

"You're being very cordial about this."

"And you're smiling, are you happy about this too?" You said and pointed out, he ran his tongue over his teeth and tried to remove the smile but failed. He was angry, but so were you for so many reasons you'd never share. If he loved stories so much he could keep up with them without embarassing his son every forty five minutes and neglecting his wife, he'd always be a God and you'd always be a human who might have bit off more than she could chew. Charlie was a God too, no matter how shy and withdrawn he'd became.

"I know what you're thinking." He said and slid his hands into his pcokets.

"I assure you don't." You said, "Maybe in another time but I can't--"

"Can't what?"

"Can't play second fiddle forever to whatever story you're chasing." You said, "Not for you or for any man."

"Maybe not a man, but a God?" He asked. He pushed off the wall and walked over to you. After years together charm wears off, the butterflies die but familiarity never changes. Falling into step has become second nature, you are so far from the young woman impressed by the cool headed man with brute strength who won every battle before he ever picked an arena. "I know you think you're making the right choice."

"And what do you think?" You asked, "And I want you to really tell me, no cheating, no looking into the future."

"I think that no matter where you go, all you have to do is call and I'll come."

"You'll have three more people moved in before the end of the week." You said, you need to say it so that you know this is really over.

"Doesn't make it any less true." He said and you hold out your hand to him.

"When I'm gone, promise you'll be here for him, he'll need you." You said, he took your hand and dropped down onto one knee and kissed the back of it.

"I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask for." You said and placed your hand on the top of his head and then pulled away and lifted up your last bag and started towards the door. "If I ever call...it will be to say goodbye."

"So this isn't goodbye." He said and teleported beside the door.

"No, this is just farewell for now." You said and walked out. You don't look back, you don't need to, you don't know exactly what binds him here but hopes he finds something to free himself.

----

You hope one day he understands that his father is not a man and will never behave like one. He doesn't have to, he's not even bound to this planet let alone it's rules, but you hope one day that Fat Charlie realizes he is so much more than just a man and to live the life he really wants to. You can feel when the life starts to leave you and you want all your affairs in order. You move across the country and then out of the country and Charlie followed. He grew bitter and irritated with his father seeing his flambouyant and exuberant personality as a flaw instead of something to carve out in himself. You don't expect cancer to take you, but you've lived a full life and hope Charlie does the same.

You don't expect Anansi to actually show, you don't expect the band, or the kiss that would knock you off your feet if you weren't already in bed plugged up to machines. The nurses enjoy the change in pace and so does Christine, your roommate. Anansi is lively and brings a bottle to celebrate your new change in life, or so he calls it that.

"I'm sick." You said, "I'm dying."

"You're all dying, but it's not a bad thing, and I'm right here, like I promised."

"Still a man of your word down to the parade." You said, you thought the times you got drunk and waxed poetic he hadn't paid attention. You were glad some things hadn't slipped through the cracks. "Talk to Charlie?"

"No, no, you know how he is. Always on about something."

"He's your son and when I'm gone he's all the family you got left."

"You consider yourself family?"

"You wouldn't cross an ocean for no reason." You said. He slid his chair closer, placing his hand over yours.

"You look good." He said, he's older now, or that's what he wants you to think. A little sag here, a bit more hunched over. You've watched him shift his entire body to fit his agenda, this is no different.

"I'm old and bald, Mr. Nancy." You said,

"Call me Anansi."

"Or whatever I want, right?"

"Right." He said and laughed. "But you look good regardless of what you've got. If you could do anything, what would you do?"

"Besides live?"

"Yes, besides that." He said and held your hand in his. His hands have grown harder, rougher. Less story telling, more fighting, much more hard work than he ever should've been used to.

"I want to travel, really see the world, you know I always talk about it but things got in the way, and then Charlie came and I couldn't just take off."

"Yeah, I think I'd lead that boy to an early grave." He said and you both laugh together. A hearty laugh that you didn't know you needed. "Well let me get some things in order first and you'll have it."

"Look, Anansi--"

"You're Nancy's girl, right? You'll have what you need." He said, and you believe him. A spinner of tales he might be but never a liar, at least when it came to you. "Say it."

"I'm too old for this shit."

"No, I'm too old for this. You're exactly where you're supposed to be." He said and you smile, it's been so long since you've done that, you've done more smiling now than you have in the last couple of years. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"You're Nancy's girl."

"I'm your girl." You said and smile again, you mean it, after all these damn years away from him, only an hour together and you've fell back into patterns.

"Kiss on it?" He asked, ever the slick and sly trickster. It has been many years since you've kissed him, it's not just flesh to flesh, he can pour something into you that you didn't know you needed.

"If that's why you came then sure."

"No not the only reason but you know you got what'll make a man sell his soul to the devil and cross the sea." He said, he stood up and leaned over you, not making you work too hard. He leaned on the button helping you lean back and pressed his lips to yours, tilting your head up. You feel it, a tingle, something that starts to brighten and jump to life inside you. You are not a spring chicken anymore, but he makes parts of you spring to life as if you were in the first bloom of your life. "Damn, girl."

"What are you on about?" You asked.

"Nothing, you called, I came, like I told you I would. I've got to get back before anyone knows I'm missing."

"Don't forget to say goodbye to your son."

"Oh, I won't." He said and raised your hand up one final time and kissed the back of it. You watch him go and know you'll see him again but you won't be among the living, this is your last time. You are unsurprised when your tests come back negative and you're discharged. The cancer is gone, dead within seconds, and when you return home you find plane tickets waiting on your counter. Anansi is more than a man and that's okay, you hope Fat Charlie sees that.

-----

You are dead. You know that. You hope Charlie can learn to forgive his father for being so boisterous, larger than life and embarassing, but he is his father's child and it is hard for them to see eye to eye on any damn thing. You rise from the hotel bed and walk over to the balcony and you wait for him because you know he's going to come, or you're going to find him. The land of the dead is silent, there are others, you can see them walking about, playing in the park, running with their dogs, kissing and holding hands, going on strolls. For a moment you think you won't see him, you leave, no need to gather your things, you won't need them.

Anansi once told you about the after life, about what may or may not await you depending on which road you walked. You knew he said he'd never be far behind and you believe that, you believe in him. You step out of the hotel, turn right and walk, going purely on intuition, the hotels and beach towns wash away, through the forests you continue, climb the necessary hills. As you come upon a different world you note your knees don't hurt, your feet don't ache and neither does your back. At the top of a hill is a cave, you pass through the mouth of it and felt something shake and shimmer over you as you enter the room.

It is a large single room, a grate pit in the center of the room surrounded by cushions. There are portraits on the orange walls and shadows dance about the room, you're sure exactly from where. He is laying back on the cushions, his head is pillowed on his arm and staring up at you. He is different, more himself, his true self. His hair is longer, and he has many eyes that line his forehead, and many arms that line his torso. He has a book hand, is weaving with another and waving from a completely different hand.

"You found me." He said.

"For now, I don't think I can stay here, can I?" You asked.

"Not the end of your journey, I'm afraid. Soul like yours comes around once in every few flashes."

"Flashes?"

"It's complicated. You'll learn. All afterlifes are the same in one way or another."

"How much time do we?"

"Oh, as much as you want." He said and dug between the cushions and held a bag of sand. "Sand of times, snatched it off some kid on the way home. Felt like we'd need some time together."

"For what?"

"Whatever you want."

"And Charlie?"

"He'll be fine, smart kid with a good head on his shoulders." He said, he pushed himself up and kept tossing the bag up in the air.

"Tell me what you did when I left." She said.

"Now that is a story..." He said, you walked over to him and the things he semed to be doing to keep himself busy disappeared. He welcomed you with open arms, when you wrap your arms around him the room changes with a snap. You are back in the bar you met in, you pull away and look up. Yes. This is Randy's. Same dumpy dive bar where he inserted himself in your life and you let him. He walked away and over to the bar and picked up the glass of bloodied glass shards, tainted alcohol and ash from his cigarette.

"WHat's is this about?" You asked. He picked up the second glass and poured it into the concoction.

"Drink it."

"You think I'm crazy?"

"You trust me, right?" He said and held it out to you, "Besides, you're already dead."

"There's so much worse you can do."

"Says who?"

"Says whoever you snatched that sand from." You said.

"Touche." He said, but you drink it anyway. A drink. A potion. Whatever it is it makes your head spin, you feel whatever entity you are shift and turn inside out and the sound from Randys came back but it was different. Not a dusty dive bar but the scent of it is still the same and so is the chipped bar. You and Anansi stood at the back of the crowded bar, someone at the front was tearing it up on a saxophone.

"I made arrangements." Anansi said.

"For?"

"Our boy." He said, and yes, why it is Charlie but he's different. Alive in a way you could never put your finger on as his mother. But you see it, at his core, what makes him a God and a man and they're not at war with one another.

"True to your word, why does that make me feel like we're coming to the end of our journey?"

"We'll meet again, a soul like yours, shines too bright." He said. You nod your head in agreement, you sip the drink again and feel yourself start to break and shift. Charlie climbs down from the makeshift stage and tries to part the crowd, but you are dust in the wind.

Blood.

Glass.

Liquor.

Ash.

----

You are flesh, bone and free will, but you do not have direction. Perhaps that's why you hover here at Mausoleum of the fallen. The entities that are sculpted here are beautiful some made of marble, others onyx, you walk by and sense that you are not alone. You know you are a flash, a shift in the cosmic energy and a rarity, you will continue to hide amongst of the morals, walk between the worlds of Gods and mortals....and then there they are far in the back of the Mausoleum.

"What are you?" You asked.

"Choice." They said, the God walked out, impeccably dressed, "Always on time, I see."

"I don't understand."

"You will."

"Gods have never come to meet me before."

"This is different and I'm not just any God," He said.

"How many flashes have we suffered one another?" You asked, you're not sure but instinct in not something you need to find. This multi-eyed creatures stares at you with fondness.

"Seventeen."

"That is not chance, that is planned." You said.

"Yes."

"Why is this different?" You asked, They held up a tumbler of alcohol with ash and glass shards floating in it. You look away back to the statues, there are handfuls of Gods that are necessary, some haven't been seen in eons, they play it fast and loose and are wild cards. You wonder which one he'll be.

"Just is." He said, you have no reason not to trust him despite being gifted with these instincts. You reach for the tumbler but he pulled it back away from you. "The past couple times I meddled but now you have a chance, a real chance."

"You don't think I'll choose you." You said and tilted your head to the side to study them. "Even though you chose me all these cycles."

"The last cycle was different, you walked away, for good, only called when you were about to die."

"And so you wanted to know that now I'd choose you."

"Yes."

"Fascinating."

"How so?" He sked.

"Even Gods, in all your wisdom and knowledge, have your insecurities."

"We invented them, mortals just inherit them."

"Now what will we do afterward?" You asked, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag full of sand.

"We have time to figure that out." He said and this time when you reach for the glass he allows you to take it. You drink it down down, swallowing the glass and ash and tainted alcohol, with each swallow you remember a different life, a different flash, eons of you doing this dance with him, each time you're different, the circumstances are different but the last time is by far the most daunting. Charlie. Oh, how many years has it been? Did your baby boy live well? "How do you feel?"

"Cold." You said and looked down and noticed you were naked. "I bet you think this is funny."

"Only in a cosmic way."

"Is Charlie--"

"He's fine, he's fine. Two wives, three kids, a bar. Living the dream." He said and shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder. "We have time to catch up on him later, I've missed you."

"What do you want to do?"

"Lets go to a club, I need to stretch my legs."

"Which ones?" You said and then scoffed as you followed him out of the afterlife. You weren't sure where you were going but you trusted him enough, had trusted him after thousands of rebirths, what was so different this time? For so long you two had been together, maybe now you could stay together without the cruel hand of fate intervening. As you reached the portal you thought of one last thing. "Whatever happened to that war?"

"Oh. I ate the people that were pissing me off.. " He said.

"You're kidding."

"Only a little." He said. "No worries, no war this time, just you and me."

"The way it's supposed to be."

"The way it's always been."

[pixie88]

Meeting the Parents pt 2

Chapter 12 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: I’m on fire with these ATB chapters once I got to 5 in my drafts I thought I better release one! I hope you like it.

If you would like to be ADDED or REMOVED just let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Light Angst

Word Count: 1832

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

"Is he mine?!" she seems a bit taken aback by his question, she wasn't expecting to see him again.

He asks again "Is he my son?" it's almost a hiss.

"No! No, he's not" she understands why he would think he is considering the timescale "I did a DNA test when he was born, he's Anthony's"

Harry is relieved, "You're one hundred percent?" she nods "I can show you the results if you would like?" she doesn't wait for his reply she rushes off, moments later she hands him a bit of paper.

It reads at the bottom -

Alleged FATHER  - ANTHONY KENNEDY

Probability of Paternity: 99.99999%

Harry feels like he can finally breathe again, he hands her back the piece of paper "Thank you and sorry I just had to know," she offers him a weak smile, "It's OK, I understand why you would think he was yours. Again, I'm sorry about what happened to us in the past and I'm glad you have moved on she seems lovely!"

His thoughts go to Laila "She is to be honest with you, she's probably the best thing that has ever happened to me" her face sours, but quickly changes as she hears her son cry "I'm coming Jasper" she turns back to Harry "Sorry, I have to go. Harry take care!" he smiles "You too"

He makes his way down the path, pulls out his phone and dials Laila's number. It rings a few times before she answers.

"Hey Harry..." He cuts her off, so she doesn't get the rest of her words out.

"He's not mine!" she lets out a breath"How do you feel about that?"

He chuckles "Relieved, Laila the thought of being tied to her because of a child...I couldn't think of anything worse. I thought I might have wanted him to be mine for a few moments but as soon as I knew he wasn't mine, I realised I didn't really want it at all"

"Well, I'm happy for you and at least that's cleared up now. You can move on from it"  He can tell she's secretly relieved to as much as she tries to pretend she was OK with it.

"I'm on my way back to yours so make sure you're ready, we'll leave for my parents when I get back"

"OK, I'm nearly ready. Harry, I'm so nervous," he chuckles "No need to be! You've met my mum, one of my brothers and my sister...my dad you just need to take everything he says with a pinch of salt. He's hard on everyone until they get to know him"

"Great....anyway. I'll see you in a bit, I love you" He laughs "See you soon! I love you too"

Later they arrive at his parents house, Harry lets himself in with his fingers entwined. Laila's heart is racing with nerves, "Mum, Dad?" he calls out "Harry! We're out the back" They make their way through the house towards garden "Laila! How are you?" Rose welcomes her with open arms.

Harry puts him down and pulls Laila over to the table "Arthur and Izzy you've already met Laila, but Dad, Brad, Will, Sophie, Claire and Ruby this is my girlfriend Laila, Laila this is my Dad Colin, and my brothers Will and Brad and their wives Ruby, Sophie and Claire" His brothers and their wives offer her a warm welcome but Colin doesn't even look up at her.

"Hi, Rose! It's nice to see you again!" Laila smiles at her, she notices the rest of the family round a table "Uncle Harry!!" a little boy runs over colliding with him, Harry picks him up "Hey Cohen! This is my girlfriend Laila!" Cohen looks over to her "She's pretty" Laila smirks "Thank you! You are adorable!" Cohen smiles.

Take everything with a pinch of salt! She thought, "I knew something was going on with you two! I saw the way he looked at you at the sky gardens!" Izzy winks at her, they take a seat Harry doesn't let go of her hand.

"We were in the early stages of dating at time" Laila smiles at her. She hears Colin sniggers, but she chooses to ignore it when she feels Harry give her hand a tiny squeeze.

A little while later dinner is served "Laila, are you left handed?" Colin asks "Erm..no, no I'm not," she smiles at him "So, why are you holding your knife and fork like a left handed person? It's a bit ill mannered?" he hisses. "Sorry, I always have used them this way..." he cuts her off "What do you do for a living?"

"Oh, I'm a hairdresser" he sniggers again "So not a doctor then..what a shame!"

"Dad!" Harry hisses at him "Harry, it's fine!" she smiles softly at him. Pinch of salt! She thought.

"And your parents?" Colin asks "My parents? Well, they own a pub" Colin laughs "Of course they do! Talk about lower class and cliché"

This comment makes her blood boil she jumps out of her seat, throwing down her cutlery "Say what you want about me, but don't you dare talk about my family!" She says pointing her finger at him "My parents are worth 10 of you!! You are nothing, but a miserable, snobby, rude old git! I will not sit here like everyone else and let you get away with talking to me or about my family like that!" she storms off through the house and out the front door.

Harry chases her calling after her "Laila! Wait!" He catches up to her, gently grasping her arm, making her turn "Laila, I'm sorry I should have spoken up...I should've never let him speak to you like that. It's just that's the way he is. I know that's no excuse"

"I get it..he's your dad, we make allowance for family. I shouldn't have say anything" Harry chuckles "No! I'm glad you did..That is what I love most about you. You don't take crap from anyone, you speak your mind and no one has to second guess where they are with you"

Behind Harry, Laila spot Colin stands in the doorway. Harry eyes follow in her direction "Harry, if he's here for round 2, I swear to god I will not be responsible for my actions" Harry chuckles "As much as I would love for you to deck him..." she cuts him off "Don't you think I can take the old man?" she asks.

He laughs "I have no doubt that you can take the old man! But let's just hear what he has to say? I promise I will step in if he's out of line again," she rolls her eyes "Fine" Harry takes her hand and they make their way over to him "Let me just warn you, you dare speak to her like you did in there so help me god" Colin can see his son will not stand by and let it happen again.

"First can I say Laila, I'm a protective old fool, I just don't want him hurt like last time. You were right in there, when you called me a miserable, rude old git. No one has ever pulled me up on how I speak to people and for that I respect you"

"You forgot snobby!" Laila hissed, Colin laughs at her "I also forgot to say sorry which I truly am sorry and if you will allow it can we start again?"

"OK, I'm also sorry for what I called you" Colin laughs "You have nothing to apologize for everything you said in there was spot on. Now let's go back inside"

They follow Colin back to the garden as they walk in his brothers clap "Keep hold of this one Harry! We like her!" Will laughs "Don't worry I intend to!" he winks at Laila.

Later, Harry is playing football with the kids Cohen, Ethan, Bobby and Lara while Laila is colouring with Mila "Do you love my Uncle Harry?" Mila looks up at her "I do" Mila smiles "He loves you too. Are you going to marry him?" Laila smirks she loves how kids are so blunt "Maybe one day"

"Maybe one day?" she hears him asks over her shoulder. Great! She thought. "I asked Laila will she marry you. She said maybe one day!" Mila giggle, Laila blushes as Harry takes a sit down next to her "You're all sweaty!" Laila wipes his brow "Yeah, those 4 have been ganging up on me. 4 against 1 can you guess who won!" Laila laughs at him.

"Not you?" she winks "Got that right!" Harry grabs Laila's hand as she's colouring making her go out of the lines "Harry!! Look what you made me do!" he chuckles at her and does it again "Harry! Stop it!" she hisses "Or what?" he asks.

She takes the felt tip pen and draws on his face "Laila!" she smirks, Mila giggles "What? I'm colouring out of the lines like you wanted me to," he smirks as he shook his head, "You are so going to regret that!" he's quick, he takes a red felt tip pen off the blanket they are sitting on and aims for her face, but she dodges it. He goes in again she falls back against the blanket, Harry grasps her hands pinning them, so she can't stop him. She's laughing "Harry, don't you dare!"

Moving towards her face with the pen between his teeth as his hands pin down hers, she's laughing "Harry" as he gets closer Mila pulls the pen from his mouth and uses it on him "Argh! Mila, you're suppose to be on my team!" he lets go of Laila, Mila gets up and makes a run for it. Harry is about to chase after her, but Laila grabs his ankle making him fall to the ground.

She gets up and makes a run for it after Mila, they're both giggling as they run from him. Before they get to far, Harry's arms come around both their waist's "Gotcha both!" he begins to tickle them and they both fall to the ground trying to get away.

"Uncle Harry! Stop! I'm sorry!" Mila says through her laughter, he stops "I like Laila, Uncle Harry" Harry smiles at his niece "Me too!" he winks at Laila.

~*~*~*~

A few weeks later

Laila had arranged to meet Nikki at the park with Poppy, They are chatting when all of a sudden they hear Poppy scream.

They both rush over to her, Poppy is hysterical on the floor below the monkey bars "Pops, what's wrong?" tears steam down her face "It hurts!!" she screams "Poppy, did you fall from the bars?" Laila asks her and she nods unable to answer because of the pain.

Nikki becomes distraught "Nikki, It's going to be fine!" Laila tries to reassure her "I'll call an ambulance just in case" Laila pulls out her phone to make the call.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 13.

@shewillreadyou​ @lem-20​ @secretaryunpaid​ @khoicesbyk​ @aussieez​ @txemrn​ @irisofpurple​ @casualpostqueen​ @shannonwrote​ @tea-me-kah​

[ma-gic-gay]

Turns out that sometimes, she can keep her mouth shut.

She hadn't told anyone what she knew about their relationship, him moving out and into an apartment she didn't recognize. It'd been over a week and still, she didn't snap and start screaming about how Sam should've thought it over in a better way, done this in a better way. She shouldn't have broken his heart like that.

Granted, the fact that Carly had managed to stay pretty clear of Sam didn't hurt.

She couldn't avoid her forever though, and that was proven when Sam walked into the Metro Court, asking to speak with her.

"What's up, Sam?" Carly asks, not in the mood for the conversation but knowing what's to come. She avoided her for a week, and so she'd had more time to think about what she would say.

"Did Jason not tell you?" Sam asks confused.

"About how you kicked him out? No, he told me," Carly tells her. "I understand not being able to deal with the mob lifestyle better than anyone, trust me, but you've known how he is for years. He never pretended to be anything else. For months before his crash, you two were sneaking around and now you've realized you can't deal with it?"

"Danny could've been killed in that explosion. Being with Jason, it made our lives more dangerous than they should be. So even though I love him, so much, I had to break it off for the kids. Danny and Scout don't need to grow up with guards around them constantly, wondering if he's gonna come home alive," Sam defends her decision, not entirely surprised at Carly's reaction. After all, Jason was her best friend. But Carly had also left Sonny before because she needed something safer.

"I know that fear, believe me, but he was gone for so long, Sam. Drew, I know you liked being with him because it was safe, but Jason's not like that. He's always been exactly the same way as he is now. The one thing that's changed in the years I've known him is that he became a husband, and had kids. If you couldn't deal with his lifestyle, you shouldn't have acted like you could for so long because now he's heartbroken and having to watch that is killing me," Carly snaps. "You had every chance to not be with him, but yet you pretended you didn't know what this life entails and got back together with him."

"Because I love him!" Sam exclaims. "I'm in love with him, and I tried to ignore it for months that he was like that but now you're acting like I'm a liar who strung him along!"

Carly chuckles to herself, surprised even though she knows she shouldn't be. "If you didn't string him along, Sam, he wouldn't be feeling like this. You know he's afraid now that you're gonna keep Danny and Scout away from him? No, because you're not the one who's been watching him heartbroken! I know what love can make you do but you told me you evaluated whether or not getting together with him was good and you realized it was good for you and the kids."

"I reevaluated it, Carly, and it wasn't the best thing anymore."

"You and him waited years to be together! Your parole for months was the thing keeping you two apart but now apparently you're not fine with the way he lives his life? There was so much time for you to realize it, so much. I know what it feels like, having your kids and wondering if they're okay but honestly? He'd give his life in a second for them or you. The danger doesn't go away just because you're not with him," Carly says, ending the conversation.

"So you won't even hear me out on this?" Sam asks, hurt. "You told me that you felt like there wasn't a way to deal with the mob before so many times so you left Sonny and now that Jason's hurt, you suddenly won't listen to anyone but him about it?"

"Don't make me take a side here, Sam, because you know I'll pick his," Carly warns. "He loves you so much, he stood there and took it while you word vomited and kicked him out of the house."

"Why isn't he telling me this? Why isn't he fighting for me?"

"He's got me to fight when he's heartbroken," Carly says simply.

"If he wanted to, he would fight for me. No matter what it meant for everything else in his life. Of all people, you know that," Sam reminds her.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" The blonde asks defensively.

"In all the time you've known him, has he ever fought for you, or your kids? Because I know he has, before, for me, a few times, but if you threatened tomorrow that you were leaving Port Charles with your kids and never coming back, he'd fight you on it tooth and nail?"

"Of course he would! Sam, he's not fighting for you because you practically told him you don't want him anymore. So whatever he'd do for me is different," Carly explains.

"I kicked him out and he told me he wasn't going to fight me, Carly. He point blank told me he wasn't going to fight for me or the kids. I wanted, so badly, for him to fight for me, to come up with a miracle solution I know doesn't exist but he didn't, of course, and so he didn't fight for our relationship! Believe it or not, he is not the only victim here," Sam snaps at her.

"He didn't fight because you made him feel like all of you would be better off without him there! You love the money and the great, gorgeous guy on your arm, Sam, and you love him being with the kids but you don't like anything that goes along with it," Carly fights back. "Don't you dare act like you didn't cause your own heartbreak and his too. The only difference is that you're only a victim of your own actions, while he's a victim of you breaking his heart and I have to watch him ponder his life decisions."

"What did you just call me?" Jason asks, having apparently shown up while she was causing a minor scene in public.

"A great, gorgeous guy and a victim of her breaking your heart," Carly states. "Don't read into it."

"I'm not," he assures her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Jason, hey," Sam greets him awkwardly. "How, uh, how are you holding up?"

"Well, considering everything that's been going on, I've been doing pretty okay for myself," he smiles sadly at her. "Moved back into my apartment a few days ago, and I've been really focused on work. I get Danny next week, right?"

"About that-" Sam starts but a furious blonde cuts her off.

"You're going to keep his children from him? God, why don't you cut his heart out of his chest and serve it for dinner at this rate? They deserve to have their father in their lives!" Carly exclaims angrily. "He is a great father and they should grow up with him in their lives."

"Calm down, Carly," Jason calmly states.

"Calm down? She's trying to ruin your entire life, Jason! She's broken your heart and now she's trying to keep Danny and Scout away from you! You might be okay with just sitting back and letting her do that to you but I am not because you deserve better than that," Carly says, rage fizzing out of her.

"So first I'm a stupid heartbreaker, then I'm a vain bitch who only likes him because he's hot and has money, and now I'm a life ruiner," Sam chuckles sadly to herself. "It's good to know what you really think about me."

"You're everything I said, and you know it. Stop acting like you're perfect, and above everyone else. If you judge me for my actions that's fine but when I cast the same judgement upon you, suddenly you're this perfect damsel in distress who needs Jason to defend her honor. Jason, the same guy you gave up, the same guy who would do anything for you, for your family! Excuse me if I see through it," Carly defends herself and her friend.

"Anything but leave the mob, leave town, do anything really that involved ignoring you," the long haired brunette frowns slightly. "He's been standing here and I've been having to defend myself against you while he's there making sure you're okay! You, who he's supposedly just friends with! Like it or not, you're responsible for this too."

"How am I responsible? I didn't break his heart, tear his family away from him, you did!" The blonde shouts. "I, for once, am innocent. He is who he is and you knew that being in the business is a part of it when you had kids with him, fell in love with him."

An obviously uncomfortable Jason steps in here, "This is not your fault, Carly. It's not. Sam reached the point where she can't deal with this life anymore, and so she's done this. Does it hurt like hell? Yes, yes it does and I'm not gonna pretend it doesn't, but you're not going to start fighting her everytime you see her because of this."

"I'm getting it all out of my system now," she assures him, "but I'm still mad."

"This, this is what I was talking about! You're acting like somehow she's involved in this when she's just decided to inject herself into it because of you," Sam snaps slightly.

"She involved herself in this because she's my best friend, Sam, and she cares about me. Don't get me wrong, I know you care about me too, but she's been there for me while I've gone through some serious stuff and so I'm going to make sure she's okay because neither you or I are," Jason defends his actions.

"I'm okay, actually. Honestly, I'm happy I don't have to compete for your attention with her anymore," Sam smiles sadly at him.

"Compete for my attention?" Jason asks, confused.

"She says jump you ask how high, Jason. No one else has this power over you that she does and now I don't have to deal with that. It's refreshing," she admits.

To be continued

tO bE cOnTiNuEd