#its been a month since I started my break from writing but I’m comin’ back y’all

[crazylittlejester]

guys we’re SO back

[gayenerd]

An interview with Mike when Warning came out that I don’t even have a source for - sorry!

Laughing Off a "Warning" With Green Day 

Bassist Mike Dirnt's green thumb, punk perspective and personal dominatrix 

If Mike Dirnt wasn't in one of the most enduring and influential punk bands making the scene, the Green Day bassist could easily be a hilarious stand-up comic. Instead, he's devoting his insightful social commentary laced with witty repartee to the business (and funny business) at hand -- the band's sixth studio album, Warning. While Green Day's Nimrod and (especially) Dookie humor doesn't seep through in this seemingly ominous album title, it may be because these Bay Area hooligans -- Billie Joe Armstrong (vocals, guitar), Tre Cool (drums, percussion) and Dirnt -- have accepted and submitted to certain rites of passage other than platinum-selling discs. But it's definitely not as ominous as all that. We bantered with Dirnt to gauge the barometer of Warning, life as a prankster punk and his bid for world domination as Armstrong's presidential running mate. What would you like to talk about? Probably not myself (laughs). … It gets you so self-involved and self-absorbed, [that] it makes it difficult to change your perspective for an hour or two after you're done doing interviews. It's not so much narcissistic as it is dwelling. It's like being on tour and coming back and decompressing and acclimating to your home life again, because your surroundings are all about you, you, you for so long, that you need to stop and go home and realize, 'Hey, wait a minute. Other people aren't asking for a lot. I'm probably just self-absorbed still, and being an assh*le for a while and don't realize it.' And you need to take a breath and go, 'OK, how can I focus on the smaller things in my life, like getting up in the morning and making my girlfriend coffee? Or making my daughter breakfast.' And taking the focus off yourself for awhile. I think that's important. 

What's fun to talk about? I'm growing a huge pot plant in my back yard right now. My friend gave me this pot plant and I just left it in the window and left the light on it forever, and it grew and grew and grew, and got pretty big. So then I put it in my backyard just to see what would happen, and I came home and it's f*cking enormous! (Laughs) It's of the superskunk variety. It is nasty. Pretty cool. [My friend] is very proud of me. He said, 'Wow, Mike, that's beyond a plant -- that's a crime.' I smoke pot once a month. I take one hit. So I'm gonna give it all to friends.

No "jurassic monkeys" [joints] for you? Not this year.

Any special reason? Three months before my daughter was even conceived, I stopped smokin' pot and I stopped for about a year and a half, just to clean up my act. After that, it's never been the same. I haven't smoked as much pot ever since. I would hate to think that if she needed me, I was impaired by weed.

Warning seems to have been shrouded in a huge amount of secrecy and I have my theories as to why, but I'm hoping you could provide some perspective. We took a break so as not to hate what we do. We really toured the heck out of the last record [Nimrod] for about 238 shows, and we were like, 'OK, it's time to take a real break -- for once.' And instead of writing in the fashion of, 'OK, let's go in and write the next record and pound it out and pound it out' … [for] the last record we wrote about 40-some songs and then let the songs pop out and figure out what the record was from that … [this time] songs stood out on their own and we said, 'OK, this is the album' … Billie waited for inspired moments. And as a band, we practiced when it was working, and we only worked on the songs that already inspired us … instead of forcing it. We had about 14 or 15 songs, and we were like, 'We're totally ready.' And it was pretty obvious at the time which 12 songs were gonna be on the record. There's the dealio. (Laughs) … As far as the secrecy thing, we will sell no wine until its time. [But] go on Napster and check out a couple songs. (Laughs) I know they're there.

What is your point of view on Napster? I think it's gonna work itself out. Everyone keeps sayin', 'What's the deal?' I don't believe their schtick about 'Hey, we started doing this for poor college students and blah-blah-blah.' Well, first of all, if you can afford to go to college, [and if] you can afford a computer that can actually burn a f*ckin' CD and you can afford to pay the online bill, then you're probably not starvin', OK? When I was goin' to junior college, I was worryin' about where my next packet of Top Ramen was comin' from, OK? So, I don't wanna hear that. But do I think [Napster] is all evil? No. There's definitely two sides to it. I make comp tapes at home (granted, they're albums I've purchased). But when I was a kid, I would buy tapes at the flea market. When you're a kid, the only thing you can afford at the flea market is a tape or a pair of sunglasses. I don't think bands should be made to look evil just because they don't wanna be a grasshopper (hence, The Ant and the Grasshopper [fable]). The other side of that is people don't wanna purchase the record (laughs). I'm not gonna dwell on it. It might hurt you if you've only got one hit [on an album]. [But] we definitely have a full package.

How does Warning differ from your past efforts? I think this record definitely has an overtone of independence throughout the whole thing. I think that we've overcome a lot of adversity. We produced this record ourselves and it has a sense of honesty…. There's an overtone of hope to the whole record that says, 'It's up to you to choose to have hope.' And whether or not most people in the world want to admit that they want hope for their world … they do. If you really don't want any hope, well I have friends who didn't want any hope and they killed themselves.

What are some of the adversities that Green Day has managed to overcome? Everybody thinking, 'Here we are today, gone tomorrow.' Friends [thinking], 'They're becoming huge as a band,' and all of the family turmoil, friend turmoil. … I think the adversity is also that this is a Green Day-quality record. Every song on this record is good. And people giving up on rock-and-roll and punk rock ... [We're] being honest with ourselves and remaining who we are and what we are.

And with regards to remaining who you are and what you are, the band caught a lot of sh*t for "Time of Your Life" because.... … it was such a good song. (Laughs) It's funny, because the people who gave us sh*t about that … obviously hadn't heard our first two records [1039/Smoothed Out Slappy Hour and Kerplunk]. Songs like 'Words I Might Have Ate' from Kerplunk and 'Rest' on 39/Smooth [have] touched on -- what can I say? -- our sensitive side. If you reach into your vulnerable side and you bleed on the plate for people, I think that takes a lot more balls than to just go out there a scream your head off and call it punk rock. Punk rock means no limits, no rules and breaking rules -- to us -- and there's a lot of punk rock on this new record. And if you think punk rock is just distorted guitars and hair-dos, you got another thing comin'. You need to listen to "Minority" and "Warning" [both from Warning].

Then can we look forward to songs like "Time of Your Life" and "Words I Might Have Ate" on Warning? No. (Laughs) There's definitely a sense of hope in some of these songs, but it's from a different perspective of where we're at this point in our lives. I'll give you an example: 'Minority.' That's a song about how … my next door neighbor's mom has a nose ring and my other next door neighbor is a jock with green hair. Everybody wants to look different and be different and act different, but ultimately, nowadays, you need to look inside yourself and find your individuality. With 'Minority,' everything has its suit -- its uniform. It's up to you inside to break the mold. With 'Warning,' that's a song about questioning everything. There's this false sense of freedom we have in the United States. There's all these signs tellin' you, 'Don't do this' and 'Don't do that,' and you just gotta read between the lines and figure out, 'What are those things really sayin'? Is it for someone else's convenience that I'm told to not go here, or that I can't do this or that? Or is it because it's really dangerous?'

Green Day traditionally has been trailed by a lot of controversy. What are some of your favorite controversies? It's weird. There are a lot of controversies, but it's a matter of how close to home you take 'em. Obviously, [there's the] whole sell-out thing, and I'm so over that. If selling out is compromising your musical intentions, I don't even know what that means. I guess that's a big one. (Laughs) At one point in my life it was -- now I'm over it. And I think most people are, too. Every time you spend a dollar, you're making that sell-out statement and casting a vote. Like, 'You're gonna slam me for being on a major label, and yet you smoke cigarettes? OK. (Laughs) Your shoe's on backwards, buddy.' Maybe you dug that controversy when Tre [Cool, drummer] climbed the Universal Studios globe after the MTV Video Music Awards. That was my idea. I'm so accident-prone, that I would have fallen off and broke my neck, so Tre did it. (Laughs) I said, 'Why don't you climb that?' and Tre's running up and down and I'm like, 'Good man.' Tre's got balls bigger than that globe, anyway. You gotta let the [music] industry know who's runnin' it -- and that's the artists. What our album is to a lot of people is a product. What our album is to us is our child. And often, when we turn a record over to the record company, when we finish it, it's like handing your child to a nurse after she was born -- all bloody, a purple tail, ready to go. (Laughs)

Have you settled the score on your past "disagreement" with Third Eye Blind? I really don't think anybody can mistake a kiwi for a banana. Third Eye Blind -- that whole thing. I was probably off the hook; I shouldn't have been fighting in the first place [backstage at a festival concert] and whoever hit me [over the head] with a bottle from behind was a f*ckin' coward. I shouldn't have been fightin' and they shouldn't have been fightin', and that's what boys do. To quote Eminem, 'Tomorrow we'll be boys again.' (Laughs)

Since Billie Joe is campaigning for president and you're his vice presidential running mate [and Tre is the ugly wife], what are you gonna do to keep him in line? Oh, he's a lame duck from the get-go. I'll be runnin' sh*t. (Laughs) I'll start out by lowering the price of alcohol and cigarettes, and shortly thereafter, we should take the 'explicit language' stickers off of albums, so f*ck Tipper Gore. I just think kids should be able to buy [the Clash's] London Calling. What kind of crap is that? That was a controversial record that got the explicit lyrics [campaign rolling]. It's the line, 'He who f*cks the nuns/Will later join the church.'

It was extremely magnanimous of Green Day to bring in dominatrix Mistress Simone for Warning's engineer Tone. Are we, then, to believe that the band didn't get spankings all around? Oh, no. I receive my floggings in the privacy of my own home. Under the watchful eye [and sure hand] of my gal. My girlfriend wouldn't have it. [My girlfriend's called] Mistress Sarah.

Where are you guys with the horror film you were planning, and have you signed Gwen Stefani yet? I think we got so involved in the new record that it became more important than anything else. I think we've decided to follow through on our own script that we've been working on, which is a much better script. Except that if I told you any more, I'd have to kill you.

[thejosh1980]

Live Alive...

So much to write, so little time...I'll try to keep it short and focused.

Life has changed a lot here in northern New South Wales recently, but first, lets talk about the music...

It's just over 5 weeks since I performed my first live show after a 13 month break. I was a little concerned I couldn't pull off a show in my usual fashion, however I think in the end, every one, including me, was satisfied.

It is true, it's just like riding a bike...

Once I stepped up on stage to do my job, which is to put on the best show I could, I felt comfortable. I really enjoyed the moment, and didn't feel nervous or anxiety.

I met the drummer only minutes before we jumped on stage, it reminded me of the first show with Eddy and the Backfires in mid 2008 in Bottrop. I met Eddy and then bam, on stage to play a show together... We continued to play together for another 5 years. Sometimes I watch the video (on youtube) and smile when I see Eddy's face light up from the get go, much like the singer 5 weeks ago. I was the right guy for the job, I knew what I was doing.

I've gotten used to that though, learning songs off a CD then playing without a band rehearsal, and usually it works well... One doesn't really learn the songs until they're played live anyhow, right? The groove and feeling is always little different once the energy of a live show kicks in.

I try to slip into the band's sound and style... Learning on the spot who to follow and figure out what's going to happen next. Sometimes that means I'm not fully concentrating on the crowd, and maybe even looking a little confused at the band, but it's the lead singer's job to work the crowd, my job is to support them in their work, and I can't do that if I'm trying to impress the girls in the front row instead of listening and watching the band.

There were quite a few restrictions in place in Australia in July, so festival attendee numbers were down. Only Queensland folks and a few New South Wales folks could join. Usually the much larger crowd is a mix from all over Australia. I did meet up with some old friends, and made a few new ones. Reminding me that not only do I love playing music, but I do enjoy the social aspect of being a musician, that is whenever my anxiety levels are manageable. It's also sweet that no matter how long I've been away, folks come and say hi, and we talk like no time has passed.

This show was meant to be the beginning of returning to regular live shows, the band are very interested in having me play with them in the future and gigs were (very) slowly coming in...

However, everything changed the next morning...

With the high of a fun show, I woke to my cousin offering me eggs and bacon for breaky, I said “hells yeah!”... I had decided I wanted to attend the festival that afternoon before driving home that evening, to catch up with more friends and see some of the bands I had only been hearing about while living in Europe.

The 10am news came on “South East Queensland Lockdown Begins at 4pm” ! Well there goes my plans for visiting the festival!! I had to freshen up, eat, pack up and head south and cross the border post haste. I didn't want to be stuck in QLD, or in traffic!

Some folks had tested positive near Brisbane, and the festival was in one of the areas of concern. The festival promoter had to cancel 1.5 days into a 3 day rockabilly weekender.

Once I crossed the border back into NSW I found out I had to isolate at home... Apparently they back dated the restrictions for returning residents.

Lucky us!

So, I had a week at home to isolate. I decided to get tested, it was a negative result. What else do you expect?

The situation at the time, wasn't too bad, but a pain in the butt. I had to isolate for a week or two, and then I'd be free in NSW to hang out.

Luckily our classes went online too... Another challenge to contend with... Online classes are a necessity these days, but it took a few weeks for me to get used to 'em... To settle into the new routine.

Anyhow, so there I am isolating at home... A week later, on Sunday evening, I am released from isolation as the QLD situation is under control and NSW ease their rules. Earlier than expected, winner winner chicken dinner!

But then... The very next day, Monday evening, the whole of NSW is thrown into lockdown because of Sydney's high case numbers and some regional cases coming to light.

It's 5 weeks after the show, and I have been in either home isolation or restrictions or code red type lockdowns (or whatever you want to call it) for 99.9% of the time...

Good times...

I'm not bagging the rules, I know they're there to help. It's OK, it is what it is... I can call friends and family, I can exercise and, I can play the guitar. What more could I ask for? - Probably a lot more, but I digress.

I have learnt to become adaptable... It's not uncommon for me to feel frustrated at change, but eventually I come around to it.

Now back to music...

The NSW lockdown does affect the band too, 2 band members live south of the border in NSW and 2 live north in QLD, which has few restrictions...

Can we even get together to play? Are shows being booked? If we play a show on either side of the border, do we have to self isolate afterwards? It's a bit like living in 2 seperate countries at the moment, each with its own rules.

Leading up to the show, I hadn't done any live streams, I hadn't worked on music production or songwriting, however I was looking forward to the show. I wasn't really thinking too much about about the future... I've been concentrating a lot on my studies (which is another blog for another day)...

A week after the show I was a little put off by the isolation and restrictions, however now I am starting to take small steps to get back into playing for myself. What I mean is, I have worked on some song production, song marketing, song writing and even looking into working with musicians to put my own band together!!

How cool is that? To me, that is very cool...

Now the small steps mean I have also been co-writing with a friend, starting to put more of my music online (like Bandcamp... coming soon!) and thinking how I can start over again... Cause that's what this is really about...

While I do have a band who hires me to play their music (which I enjoy and am grateful for, whenever we'll actually be able to play together) I really need to start on my own music career. That is a big step! So time to break it down into smaller steps...

When I first moved back home, I had a few offers to jam with old friends, and didn't take them up on it. I didn't feel like playing. Maybe it was a bit of depression, or something, but I just wasn't excited about it...There had been a lot happening in 2020, on top of leaving Europe and integrating back into Australian life, well, I guess it was a bit too much for me at the time.

In the past few weeks I've started contacting folks to get together, once the restrictions have eased, and I am really looking forward to swappin' riffs, ideas and jammin' with friends old and new!

It was a small thing, to say yes to that show in July... Really, it was just a word “yes”... but that decision has lit a fire... the spark is burning... and I don't quite know where it's going to take me, but even the pandemic blues hasn't gotten me down this month like it has done in the past...

Cause now I got something to work towards...

I wanna work with musicians, in person or online... I wanna write songs again... I wanna play a live show with others, their music or mine... I wanna release my solo album (eventually) and I wanna express myself as I once did with the 6 string in the past...

Are you comin' along for the ride??

Thanks for reading,

The Josh

[stuonsongs]

My Top 10 Favorite Songs of All Time - 2006 Edition

2021 Editor’s Note: I was looking through some old files and found this thing that I wrote sometime in the summer of 2006 at age 22. For all I know, it could’ve been 15 years to the day! Looking back, I’m not sure how many of these songs would still make my top 10. Don’t get me wrong, I still love all of these tunes, but I’m sure you know how it goes - You get older, you get exposed to more things, and your idea of good music expands. Anyway, I thought it might be nice to share with anyone who still uses this site. I present it in its original format without edits to my writing. I ended up writing full posts in this blog about some of these songs if you go through the archive. 

Stu’s Top 10 Favorite Songs…Ever

Let’s start with some honorable mentions. These were so close, and I thought about it for so long, but they had to be left off.

Honorable Mentions

All Summer Long – The Beach Boys

All Summer Long. 1964. Capitol

This song has been described so many times as being “the perfect summer song.” When you listen to it, you can’t help but smile from the opening marimba intro, all the way through. It just screams “summer” and it hurt me to leave The Beach Boys off my top 10.

Bleed American – Jimmy Eat World

Bleed American. 2001. Grand Royal

So full of energy, so rocking, and so what would’ve been the most recent song on my list. I wanted to keep it in the top 10 just so I could have a song from the ‘00s, but it wasn’t meant to be. When the chorus kicks in, I can’t help but headbang.

Marie – Randy Newman

Good Old Boys. 1974. Reprise

Randy has said that a lot of young composers pick “Marie” as their favorite Newman song, and I can see why. The idea of a guy having to be drunk to tell his wife that he loves her is pretty funny, and throughout the whole song it’s just the beautiful melody with tons of strings, all to a tune about a guy ripping on himself as he comes home drunk to his wife.

Does He Love You? – Rilo Kiley

More Adventurous. 2004. Brute/Beaute

I guess this is newer than Bleed American, so it would’ve worked too. This is another more recent song that it killed me to leave off the list. The outro is an arrangement of the main tune with a different chord progression performed by a string quartet. Very beautiful. Also when Jenny Lewis screams “Your husband will never leave you, he will never leave you for me,” I get chills every time.

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

So here it is. After a long day’s work, I’m finally finished. It actually turned out much different than I was thinking when I first started. The number one wasn’t really even in my top five when I started, but I slowly realized I loved it so much. I also left Ben Folds (Five) off this list completely, and I don’t know, I just feel the whole catalogue of Ben is so solid, none of the songs stick out to me that much. But anyways, here it is! After the break of course…

Stu’s Top 10

10.

(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave – Martha and the Vandellas

Heat Wave. 1963. Motown.

This one beat out “Bleed American” just barely. The reason being that somehow, despite being nearly 40 years older than Bleed American, it still has so much energy that it kills. Dan Bukvich once told our Jazz Arranging class that you can boil all the oldies you hear on the radio down to three categories: 1) Great Song. 2) Great Performance. 3) Great Arrangement. This song is one of the great performances. The handclaps throughout, combined with the driving baritone sax behind everything and constant snare drum action will keep anybody with blood running through their veins dancing all night long.

9.

Bodhisattva – Steely Dan

Countdown to Ecstasy. 1973. MCA

This song is my Freebird. It’s just a basic blues progression song at its core with some minor changes at the end of the form. The real kicker that drives this song home is the three minute guitar solo in the middle that isn’t nearly as rocking as Freebird, but it is highly proficient and takes me to places that just make me want to play the song over and over again. I have no idea what this song is about, probably Buddhism, but hey, this once again proves that lyrics rarely matter and the music itself is the core.

8.

Zanzibar – Billy Joel

52nd Street. 1978. Columbia

This song reminds me of long car rides on vacations down the west coast with my parents growing up. They used to play a tape of 52nd Street, or at least their favorite selections, constantly on these trips. I didn’t hear this song again until early in my senior year in college and remembered why I loved it so much. The song has a heavy jazz influence, displayed in the breakdown where Jazz trumpeter Freddie Hubbard does a solo. The best part of this song though is at the end of the 4th line of each verse, Billy does this “Woah oh oh!” thing that just makes me want to sing every time. It was between this and “Miami 2017 (Lights Go Out On Broadway)” which is also a great song, but the “Woah oh oh!” is too much for ol’ Stu boy.

7.

Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) – Bruce Springsteen

The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle. 1973. Columbia

Early Bruce Springsteen records have something that very few other artists can ever pull off without sounding cheesy or forced. It has this undeniable sense of urgency, like the world will fall apart and life will crumble through your fingers if this one moment in time doesn’t work out the way Bruce describes it. There are so many early Springsteen songs that just set a scene of “We have to get out of this town right now girl before it kills us, no matter what any of our parents, friends, anybody has to say.” There’s a line that kinda sums it up: “Well hold on tight, stay up all night ‘cause Rosie I’m comin’ on strong. By the time we meet the morning light, I will hold you in my arms. I know a pretty little place in southern California down San Diego way. There’s a little café where they play guitars all night and all day. You can hear ‘em in the back room strummin’, so hold tight baby ‘cause don’t you know daddy’s comin’.”

6.

I’ve Got You Under My Skin – Frank Sinatra

Songs For Swingin’ Lovers! 1956. Capitol

This song falls into the category of great arrangement. This Cole Porter classic tune was arranged for Sinatra by Nelson Riddle. The story goes that he was still copying down parts for the players while riding in the cab to the recording studio on the day of recording. After the players ran through it once with Frank, they stood up and applauded. The Baritone sax takes control here, outlining a Db6/9 chord throughout the intro. Of course, Frank’s vocal delivery is spot on and goes up and down in all the right places for the biggest emotion impact. It’s amazing how a song with no real chorus can be so good.

5.

A Change Is Gonna Come – Sam Cooke

Ain’t That Good News. 1964. RCA Victor

This song was not even going to be on this list, but then I ran across it while scouring my collection of music and remembered how good it was. Then I listened to it and was blown away by the level of detail that went into this arrangement. Sam’s vocals soar above the mind blowingly beautiful arrangement. The lyrics to this one actually add to the tune itself, speaking of wrongdoings in the world around him, and how social change is on its way in the form of the civil rights movement. The song flows with such ease out of Cooke that one might forget the weightiness of the content, but the song’s content is just so heavy that it’s impossible to deny it.

4.

Whatever – Oasis

Whatever EP. 1994. Creation

This song was released as a Christmas present to the U.K. from the Gallagher brothers and company. It never appeared on any full album, only being released as a single, and amazingly, it blows away anything else they’ve ever done. Think “All You Need Is Love,” but with tons of rocking energy and a snide, nonchalant attitude. The chorus speaks, “I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I choose and I’ll sing the blues if I want. I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I like, if it’s wrong or right, it’s alright.” Not exactly poetry, and the song isn’t exactly breaking any new ground either, but the song is absolutely perfect in every way, and it was going to be my #1, but perhaps the only reason it’s not at number one is because I’ve played this song so many times that at the moment, these next three are beating it, but who knows how I’ll feel in a few months. This song also pulls the same “outro performed by a string quartet” thing as “Does He Love You?” but even better. It’s so simple, but I can’t get enough of it.

3.

Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra

Out of the Blue. 1977. Jet

This is obviously the best Beatles song that the Beatles never wrote. The staccato guitar during the verse combined with the strings present in just about every ELO song combine to make a force that is undeniably catchy and musically challenging at the same time. This is really what makes ELO so good. I didn’t discover this song till probably Nov. 2005, and it was one of the best days of my life. I didn’t want to include two songs by the same artist in my top 10, but if I did, I probably would’ve added “Turn To Stone” on this list too because it is almost as awesome as this one. It’s a shame that just like Billy Joel, most critics at the time hated ELO for being overly creative musically (they called it pretentiousness). These days we have acts that really are pretentious (see Radiohead), but everyone loves them, even critics. I’m not knocking all Radiohead, just most everything post OK Computer. Sorry, got a little sidetracked there.

2.

Only In Dreams – Weezer

Weezer. 1994. Geffen

This has been my favorite Weezer song since about a month into me picking up Weezer’s debut album back around early 2000. It has this ostinato (a repeated motif over and over again) in the bass throughout most of the whole song, never even really resolving to the Gb major chord (excluding chorus, which never really resolves) that it wants to until the end of a 3 minute contrapuntal guitar duet when everything dies out except the bass which just retards on its own until it finally plays the single Gb we’ve all been waiting for. The song on the whole up until the guitar duet is pretty tame, but once those contrapuntal guitar lines start intertwining, my ears perk up every time. I can sing both lines at separate times upon request and when the drums finally kick back in fully at the climax of the song, I let out a sigh of relief or bang on my car wheel in exultant joy, whichever is more of an option at the time.

1.

All Is Forgiven – Jellyfish

Spilt Milk. 1993. Charisma

I always loved this song from the first time I heard it, but I didn’t realize how much I loved it until maybe April 2006. I found out about Jellyfish first semester of college in the Fall of ’02 and heard this song, and knew it was great. The constant tom-tom driven drums, the fuzzy, almost white noise distorted guitar, and the half time bass throughout. It was great. Then in April I put it on my mp3 player for the walk to school, and then I listened to it for about two weeks straight. Seriously. It runs into the next song entitled “Russian Hill” which is almost as good, but because it’s a separate song, I couldn’t include it on the list, but in my mind, they always run together and are basically one long 9 minute song. The ending just gets more and more white noise filled until you can barely take it anymore and then it just cuts off completely into the slow acoustic intro for Russian Hill. It’s perfect in every way. I think this would fall into the category of great song. And the way the song builds up right to the middle of the song and then cuts out completely except for some very VERY faint xylophone noodling, and then busts back in with some feedback directly into guitar solo. Man I love this song.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 14

            A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter 14 Life On The Ridge  (NSFW)

I spent some time writing in our new bible, however, my excitement over telling Jamie I was pregnant kept stealing my thoughts. I would catch myself gazing into space seeing a newborn at my breast. Misses Crook asked me several times if I was well and finally laid her hand on my shoulder with a knowing smile. I looked up at her with wide eyes but she said no more. How could she know I was pregnant? I cleaned up the main room a bit and helped Misses Crook with dinner, followed by Glavia and Faith. It was getting rather crowded in the kitchen and I wasn’t feeling that well, so I excused myself to my room. The nausea eased when I laid down, so I gave in to fatigue and closed my eyes with an abstract worry taking hold in my stomach.

I dreamed I was being pushed to the curtain to start my walk. Many hands guiding me to the stage as the garment rustled around my feet. The pain in my abdomen brought me to my knees and I heard the collective gasp of those around me as they pulled me up. The pain passed and I walked quickly to take my first step into the audience, seeing girls coming back and disappearing into the curtain. Two steps and the pain gripped me once again. I tried to put one foot in front of the other until it drove me to my knees again and stole my ability to breathe.

My eyes slammed open as the pain sliced through me making me moan and clutch my knees. What the fuck is happening! Pain came again and felt like a wave flowing through my abdomen until I screamed. I knew this was some kind of food poisoning, I had seen it before when a tenant ate spoiled meat. I just had to endure until it worked its way out of my body. I closed my eyes when another wave came and panicked when I felt severe nausea threaten to spill my lunch all over the bed.

Misses Crook came running into my room and brought the chamber pot close to the bed. I felt her cool hand on my sweaty head and then a damp rag over my eyes. I wasn’t aware of time passing as I drifted in and out of sleep, or consciousness. I felt a cool rag on my face and heard Misses Crook calm me as she lifted my skirts. What the hell was she doing? I couldn’t ask her because the pain suddenly gripped me, and I heard myself moan loudly as I held my knees. My skirts were untied and pulled off me. I wanted to shout at Misses Crook, but I could not utter a word as the pain rippled through me. Towels were shoved under my lower half as I clutched the sheets and clenched my teeth. I just had to vomit or rid myself of diarrhea from the food poisoning. Then I would be fine.

When the pain came again, I turned my head to the pillow and screamed feeling a gush of warm fluid come out of me and expel one of my organs. I dearly hoped I didn’t need it. That did it. The pain left me, and I breathed in relief feeling sweat roll down my temple. Misses Crook was wrapping my organ in cloth and cleaning me up. I wanted to tell her it was over, not to worry, but lost consciousness and drifted in my sick sleep. I surfaced twice and heard Misses Crook whispering to someone. I was buried in quilts and shivering with cold. The next time I woke I called to Misses Crook and she looked heartbroken as she sat on the bed and mopped my face. I watched her as the tragedy of my loss took shape in my mind. The sadness on her face told me to prepare for a truth that would break my heart.

“Misses Crook?”

“I’m so sorry Claire.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she held my hands as I started to cry. I drifted in darkness, asleep I think, until I woke myself up crying.

“I’m here, love.”

The room was dark and Jamie held me close to his warmth. Sweet Jamie had the sniffles and I worried he was catching a cold. No, that wasn’t it. He knew our baby died today and he had cried. I turned toward him and buried my face in his chest, feeling his arms come around me, he stroked my hair, and calmed me with his beautiful Gaelic. It was a story about love I think, and it lulled me back to sleep. By morning, I was thinking clearly and understood I lost the baby. Jamie stayed in bed with me until mid-morning when I got up with a deep sigh.

“Thank you, Jamie, for staying with me, for grieving with me. You are the best man I’ve ever known, and I am so sorry.”

“Ye tried to bring me a child Claire, but God called him home. I celebrate your love for wee ones and I believe God will bless us with another. Your pain will fade lass, I promise, and he lives in our hearts forever.”

“He?”

“Christian Alexander Mackenzie Fraser. Please, Claire, I couldna put him in the ground wi’out a name. I hope yer not mad.”

“How could I be? You loved your son enough to give him a proper name and bury him.”

“I will work extra hard next season so we can have a grave marker carved for him.”

I was overwhelmed with Jamie’s sensitivity and love. I had known a few women of my time that miscarried and did nothing like what Jamie did. Somehow, it made me feel better he was named and buried, someday to be joined by the parents and family that loved him. I cupped Jamie’s cheek and felt I owed him my soul for what he had done. He kissed me softly and asked me to rest today and then he was gone to welcome a new family to the ridge.

I stayed in my room for two days and asked Misses Crook not to mention the miscarriage to anyone. Since no one else knew about the pregnancy, it seemed easier if people didn’t offer sympathy. What Jamie did burying our son made all the difference to me as he had a name and a place in the kirkyard. He existed.

When the calendar was turned to November, winter rolled in with a vengeance. Many of us went outside to see the beautiful snowfall and a big fire was started to keep us warm until nightfall. A cauldron of warm cider sat above a low fire and we toasted the storm and each other. I loved impromptu gatherings to spend time with my neighbors and friends. There would be far less of that during the cold days of winter, so I hugged them all extra hard.

It had been months since the miscarriage and I felt better every day, mentally and physically. I lost myself in the new books we had ordered to get us through the cold months. Jamie sat next to me on the sofa and asked me to read out loud while he cuddled with me. He looked closely at me and smiled as if to say, I’m glad you’re back. The pages turned as the story unfolded and Jamie pulled a strand of my hair out and twisted it around his finger. He pulled me closer to him and kissed my neck, then ran his tongue from my shoulder blade to my jaw making me squirm in his embrace.

“Sassenach, ye look flushed, are ye alright lass?”

I gave him a side-eye and continued to read. Misses Crook was right around the corner cooking dinner and could easily surprise us. I tucked the strand of hair back into my pins and cleared my throat. Jamie played with my skirt, inching it up slowly until I slapped his hand.

“I like it when ye fight me wife, yer so adorable when ye do it. I am ready for a midday nap, will ye join me?”

I almost laughed at the invitation, as if Jamie needed permission to rip my clothes off and have his way with me. I couldn’t resist him, and he knew it, but I acted distracted to heighten his ardor. The pages continued to turn while Jamie ran his big hand down my back, pulling me into a hug where he could run his hand down my breast and pinch a nipple. I opened my mouth to breathe exposing my arousal and I felt his interest shoot up.

“Dinna scream mo chridhe.”

Before I knew it, Jamie held me firmly and pushed his hand under my skirt and up my legs. I was horrified someone would walk in on us and see something impossible to forget. I felt his finger open my fold and his hand was back in his lap in seconds.

“Ye canna hide your honey drippin for me, love. Now, be a good lass and go to our room takin every stitch off ye sweet body before ye lay on the bed, quiet and willin. I’m comin to love ye Sassenach and I will have my way with ye, that I can promise.”

He whispered the last part of the sentence and looked at me indecently through dark eyes. My heart rate shot to the moon and I squeezed my thighs together.

“Be gone with ye.”

I bolted toward the stairs calling for Misses Crook to assist me as Jamie walked outside. I was breathless as my laces were pulled and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Now out of my dress, I thanked Misses Crook and feigned a yawn as she left. I laid on the bed, naked, as requested, looking at my mental pictures of Jamie’s favorite positions. “Mmmm, yes that one.”

“Yer a minx alright, my lovely wife. Just what were ye plannin to do with that finger inchin down yer stomach? I’m yer husband, and I want ye to show me.”

I looked at him through slit eyes and watched him pull his clothes off. His erection was large and purple making my arousal almost hurt. My core was throbbing and I pulled him to me, but he resisted and told me to continue. He ran his finger into my fold and my back arched as I moaned. I saw him suck his finger into his mouth and that was so sexy I threw caution to the wind and buried my finger between my legs.

“I canna see mo chridhe, open yer legs, it will be far better, I promise.”

My legs slammed open as my finger found my bud, swollen, and engorged. I whimpered his name until my breath caught as I pulled my arousal up to dangerous heights. Jamie watched me closely and settled between my legs, his face inches from my finger. I was close to climax and my chest was heaving for air. Just before my release, Jamie pulled my finger away making me cry out for him. He got off the bed and searched my drawers until he found a belt which he used to tie my wrists to the headboard.

“Jamie please.”

“In just a moment my love, I want ye all to m’self, yer lovely body belongs to me. Relax and breathe mo chridhe, this is gonna take a while.”

When he belted my arms to the headboard his erection danced not an inch from my mouth. I opened my mouth and tried to lift my head to it but couldn’t reach him. I tried to scoot my head under him and suck his magnificent balls into my mouth and became frustrated I could not reach him. Jamie looked down at me and told me to open my mouth before he pressed his cock into my mouth crashing into my throat. I was immobile and lost myself to his cock gliding over my tongue, nearly choking me. He pulled himself away from me and walked to the whisky we always kept in our room. Rather than fill a glass he tipped the bottle to his mouth as he walked back.

He ran his hand down my breast, stomach, and legs, and then tipped the bottle to my mouth. I couldn’t refuse if I wanted to and felt my mouth fill with the strong spirit followed by Jamie’s cock buried in the liquid. I swallowed as best I could and felt him yank out of my mouth. I looked at him with a warning not to torture me and heard a chuckle out of him.

“My love, this will take some time so ye need to relax and calm yerself.”

I looked into his eyes and growled like I wanted to tear him apart. One of his balls was shoved into my mouth and I was told to suck it, which I did, gladly.

“Open yer legs love.”

A fat finger invaded my body and I pressed against it wanting it deeper before it was gone again. I whimpered and moaned, feeling true pain in my throbbing core. Jamie kissed me and descended, placing kisses along my stomach and lower until he kissed my clit and I lost my mind. His tongue took possession of my sacred place as he sucked and flicked until I tumbled into the erotic abyss. I felt my stomach jerk into my orgasm and felt Jamie’s tongue on me while I took flight.

When I became aware of my successful landing on earth, I still felt Jamie’s tongue on me. Ordinarily, he watched me spin into oblivion but this time he stayed between my legs. I felt his warm hands moving up my sides and wrap around my shoulders as my head cleared. He pulled me toward his mouth until his tongue was forced against me. It made me tingle and the harder he pressed down on my shoulders the more erotic it became. I was astounded he could pull my heat up that fast and was thrashing and grinding my core against his mouth minutes later. He pushed me off a precipice that threatened my sanity and I drifted in the erotic, pulsing fog for several minutes.

I heard him growling, low and quiet, and knew it was a spontaneous sound triggered by dangerous arousal. When I landed back in our bed my one thought was to gift him the same new level of abandon. What came to my mind was to push him away, stimulating the beast, the part of Jamie that was beyond social courtesy. The beast was brutal and limitless.

“Take this belt off my hands, Jamie.” It was not a request.

He stared at my breasts and licked his lips, but he released the belt and I rolled away from him and got up. He materialized in front of me so fast I ran into him feeling his hand grip my hair and pull my head back viciously. His mouth hovered above mine as he gripped my nipple and shook my breast hard before his tongue made my knees weak. He walked me to a chair and pushed my face into his groin telling me to suck lightly and pulling my head away from him if there was too much pressure. I smiled drunkenly, understanding what he needed. A feather touch of my mouth wide open. He pushed my head to the side so he could watch me, pulling my head back for another mouthful of whiskey.

I felt the room sway a bit, but the buzz was driving my arousal. When he pushed my mouth onto his cock again, he quickly pulled me up and spun me around before he impaled me. I was so wet and felt him slide into my depths making me quake with need. I tried to increase the tempo, I wanted the friction to make me come but he pulled me to him and leaned back in the chair so I couldn’t move. Every few minutes he would pull me up and let me slide down on him again. Each time I would gasp when he filled me until I was moaning for him to take me, roughly. I needed the beast.

When he released me, I jumped off of him and knelt between his legs. I pulled his cock to my lips and asked for the beast. He watched me open my mouth and his chest heaved a breath of air ending in a growl of warning. I kept teasing him, making my request and finally, he shoved himself into my mouth and held me against his body before ramming into my throat several times. I felt him lift me to the bed and turn me to the mattress before inching behind me, like a predator sizing up his meal. He pulled my hips up and caressed my butt as he lifted himself to his knees. I knew the beast was behind me and felt my stomach quiver with excitement.

“I’m gonna love ye lass and I have no more strength to resist the pull of yer drippin honey pot. Ye’ve pushed me to my limit so run if ye have the strength, lock yerself away from me if ye can. I’m comin for ye.”

When he pushed into me, I could tell he was momentarily sidetracked watching his cock sink deep into me. I feared the beast would be in his box before Jamie let him ravish me. I rammed my body against him, pushing him deeper into me and was overcome with the stimulating depths. That did it. The beast was in control and rammed into me mercilessly, pulling my upper body toward his chest he spread my legs wide with his own giving him deeper access where only the beast had been before. He flipped me to the bed and held my ankles up in the air as he rammed me and watched my body open to his assault. He pulled my legs open, still in the air, and growled into a dozen powerful thrusts before he held my pelvis against him and emptied his seed into me.

Jamie dropped to my side panting for his life, pulling me nearly under him again. He pushed the hair out of my face and kissed me before dropping his head to the mattress beside me. I could hear him struggle to breathe and smiled to myself.

“Yer a rare woman Sassenach,” he panted. “So refined to the outside world. Thank God, or I’d be fightin every bucky in the county for ye. Ye fascinate me wild cat, and I love ye for it.”

He pulled me to him and spooned me so he couldn’t see my triumphant smile. I let him pull me into a restful nap and felt his hands up and down my arms in his sleep.

I woke refreshed and stretched before rolling off the bed to get dressed. Damn corsets. I called for Misses Crook and Glavia materialized to pull my laces and help me dress. My breasts pushed up by the corset burned with heat that intensified when my jacket was pulled against them. When my skirts were tied, Glavia gushed about the progress Faith was making with her letters and I promised to come in the next day and observe her lessons.

I felt uncomfortable through dinner and didn’t know why. I found myself staring at Jamie’s face, animated in conversation. If he looked at me, I quickly looked away feeling foolish. I scrubbed dishes after the evening meal, lost in my thoughts, remembering his powerful body take control of me. When a serving dish slipped into the water Misses Crook sent me to bed saying I was not up to task and likely to break something. I walked slowly up the stairs feeling every step push my inner thigh against my core. I closed the door and leaned against it breathing heavily, almost panting. I couldn’t take this pain and throbbing. I realized Jamie had prepared me for a release that never happened and now I was in poor condition to sleep.

I left the house, looking in all the outbuildings until I found him stoking the peat fires under the malting floor of the whisky building. Even in winter, this building was unbearably hot and I watched his unclad upper body flex until his shiny muscles bulged. It was too much for me, I didn’t care how or where he made it happen, but it needed to happen. He pulled me deeper into the building where the heat from the peat fires made me sweat and my dress stuck to my skin. He pulled off my jacket and asked if that was better. I smiled at him feeling shy and needy.

“Do ye know I love ye more than anything in this world?” he whispered. “Ye are my angel, my dearest love.”

He pushed his erection into my stomach, and I was surprised he was ready to love me again. Hot kisses drove what was left of my sanity away and when he sucked on my neck, I felt his hand moving up my leg under my skirt. I let him push me down on the soft mounds of peat.

“It’s time to kiss the angels love.”

He dropped to my clit and sucked it, flicking is tongue viciously. When I fell into the cyclonic wind of my orgasm, he pushed into me and chased his own release. I felt like a bowl of jello, completely dependent on the glass bowl to keep me together. Too exhausted to speak I watched Jamie pull his shirt and coat on and then lift me into his arms. It was dark enough to slip into the back door and climb the stairs silently before dropping into bed under the warm quilt.

“My darling love,” whispered into my ear, “you are so much fun. Yer honesty sets me free.”

I wasn’t sure I really heard it, or what it meant, but his silky voice lulled me to sleep.

After Hogmanay, Jamie and Murtagh made the trek to check on families outside our community. They would be gone all day. I bundled Faith up and sent her outside with a large bowl of juicy scraps from recent meals and asked her to dump it into the pig's feeder. She came flying back through the front door and screamed to me that men were holding Mister Jackson and his face was bleeding. I grabbed my cloak, shoved a pistol into my belt, and loaded the rifle. I was shaking inside and steeled my nerves hoping the rifle didn’t tremble and give my fear away.

I could see Jackson being held down by three men who were taunting him. It looked like he was already beaten. I raised the rifle to my shoulder walking quickly toward the men. I took a shot splintering bark and a chunk of wood off the closest tree. I kept walking and cocked the rifle aiming it right at the head of the biggest man. The three of them looked shocked and said they were rounding up their escaped slaves.

“Back away gentlemen. That man is not one of your escaped slaves and I can prove it. I hold the bill of sale for him. Move away before I shoot one of you, intentionally or otherwise.”

I could see the men sizing me up, not knowing to stay or go. When I heard my name, I gave them a last warning.

“You three idiots need to move away and high tail away from this place. Someone is coming for you and it will not be pleasant, I promise.”

Jamie had called my name from the road into the ridge, so I knew he was running to back me up. I was starting to lose my nerve with these reluctant men who could easily kill Jackson if they decided to. Please hurry Jamie.

One of the men lurched forward and fell on the ground as Jamie came out of nowhere and grabbed a second man. I trained the rifle on the third man just as I heard neighbors coming to help. Jackson was taken to his house so his wounds could be cleaned up and the three men were tied up and pushed into the wagon. Murtagh carefully took the rifle from me and smiled before joining Jamie in the wagon. Later that night Jamie told me the men were tied to a tree and left for the night. I imagined the temperature dipped to freezing and below. I hoped it would be enough to keep them away.

It was a relief to finally welcome spring in our sixth year on the ridge. As the snow melted and the days warmed up the community was a buzz of activity. Fences had to be mended, the land newly turned in preparation for planting, baby goats and pigs were born, and more families arrived to see the Ridge. The renewal of spring made everyone happy it seemed.

A young man arrived today, looking lost and fearful. He said he was a preacher and his name was Daniel, sent to the Ridge to preach for the community of God-loving souls. I thought him too young to be so pompous. I giggled at his puffed out chest which was soon deflated and a youngster’s blush colored his face. I decided he was perfect and took it upon myself to walk him through the community and introduce him to the settlers.

“If I may be so bold madam, may I ask about what I have heard in town, the very thing that prompted my coming here?”

I looked at him thinking it was a strange question. “Of course, preacher, what have you heard?”

He looked to his right and left and stepped closer to me, “do you have freed slaves living in the community?”

I smiled at his whispered question, “yes, we do not allow slavery, indentured servants, on the Ridge. Sixteen men and women were freed and now live here. They are friends and neighbors who we value like any of the others.”

His eyes were wide and he smiled, “remarkable, and praise God! But are they truly free Misses Fraser?”

“Well, they cannot leave here as freed people, they would be claimed and returned to slavery. Jamie holds the ownership papers for all of them and must take them out from time to time when we are challenged. It isn’t perfect, but they are happy here with their families, making their own living on the goods they grow and very committed to the community.”

Daniel met with Jamie and they talked for a good bit of the afternoon. When they stood and shook hands, Jamie was all smiles and I knew we had a new preacher. There was a small living space built into the church that Daniel would live in and I looked forward to our first sermon the following Sunday. I made sure to pass the word and invite everyone to the service.

A few days later I walked Jamie out to the wagon and kissed him with my arms around his waist.

“I’ll be home tomorrow Sassenach and bring ye the sweet soap ye love so much and a promised candy for Faith.”

The wagon rolled away empty and would return in a day loaded down with supplies for the coming growing season.

I heard ladies giggling as a group of women were walking toward the house. I watched them move down the trail with the sun dappling through the leaves on this spring morning. It was a sight to behold, young and old, black and white, working and living together on the ridge. I shook my head and ran to the house to prepare for hours of dyeing wool.

There was much talk throughout the afternoon, but one comment was worrisome. One of the ladies had stopped to meet Daniel, the preacher, and gave him a pie.

“He stared at the pie until I left. The man is skin on bones, have ye seen him, Claire?”

“Yes, but he was wearing his black coat and I failed to notice how thin he was. Excuse me a minute, please.”

That poor man had not asked for a thing and was probably living off the treats given to him as a welcome. I grabbed a basket and went through my kitchen taking everything ready to eat. Bread, cheese, and dried meat filled the basket. I found Glavia in the nursery doing lessens with Faith and asked her to take the basket to the preacher at the church. In my mind, he was drawing his last breath from starvation, so I asked her to hurry. When she returned, I was pulled away again for the strangest request.

“You want what? My dear, I would love to purchase fabric to make you a new dress. We can make a day of it and bring Faith, as soon as Jamie gets back.”

Her disappointment was clear as I headed back to our work table. There was nothing I could do this instant without fabric which I did not have.

Misses Crook and I cleaned up the mess and served dinner with ale, watered down for Faith. We all missed Jamie when he was away, especially me, and Faith a close second. Many nights when he was gone, I suffered with insomnia and found it the loneliest of maladies. When my eyes opened with the new dawn, I was happy that had not happened the night before and I was well-rested. Jamie would be home today and tomorrow was Sunday, there was much to look forward to.

All of us walked the path to the church the next morning feeling very happy in the cool morning. Jamie looked up at the church and declared a large bell was needed to bring the flock in for the sermon. I chuckled at him and kept walking. After the sermon, we waited to shake hands and welcome Daniel one more time. I introduced Misses Crook and Faith but Glavia had vanished. We pushed away letting the next person in line shake the preacher’s hand as I continued to look for Glavia.

As we approached the house, I could see Glavia sitting outside like she was waiting for someone. She jumped to her feet when she saw us and smiled from ear to ear.

“I am ready to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“To town to buy fabric for my dress!”

“Sweetheart, the shops are not open on Sunday. I am so sorry, but we have to wait one more day.”

She walked to her room with her head down and mumbled to Faith to come with her and practice her letters. I looked at Misses Crook and raised my eyebrows.

“Dinna fash Mistress, the lass is in love and wilna come out of the house until she has something fancy to put on.”

“You don’t say!” I could hear Jamie laughing as he walked into the house and I stood closer to Misses Crook, “who does she love?”

“The preacher.”

I am quite sure my mouth dropped open and stayed that way for some time. That is how shocked I was. I couldn’t imagine a girl falling love because of a single sermon and then I remembered sending her with food for Daniel. Preachers are supposed to be righteous people, but they can still hurt a young girl with unrequited love. I truly hoped that didn’t happen.

As promised, we went to town on Monday. Jamie and Murtagh spent time in the tavern while we shopped for fabric and some spices. Glavia was thrilled with a beautiful royal blue fabric for a split skirt and jacket. Lace for making inserts at the elbows for fancy parties and church. I chose light-weight red wool with white lace for an underskirt and yarn of the same color for a warm cowl. I purchased my spices and we went to find Jamie. It was always exciting to be in town with all the people and goings-on. I took in the sights as we waited for Jamie and Murtagh to come out.

Glavia put her hand in mine and looked up to see her cowering in front of two very rude men.

“Leave us alone!” I snapped, and they turned and ran their eyes up and down my body. I pulled the shaking Glavia to me and whispered not to fear. I knew Jamie was within earshot of us if it came to that.

The ugly one held up a coin and leered at me, then added a coin and I scoffed at him.

“Do I look like a prostitute sir?”

He showed me another coin and grabbed me around the waist. I rolled my eyes and batted him about the head with my parasol, finally sticking the pointy end into his ribs with all my strength. The man yelped and took off with his toothless friend without so much as an apology. I huffed and pulled my jacket down. When I finally looked up, I saw Jamie and Murtagh leaning against the wall watching me. I know I blushed because I felt the heat on my cheeks. Jamie’s eyes were shining with pride and Murtagh was just highly amused.

Glavia thanked me profusely and I looked her over for any injuries letting my gaze settle on a smug Jamie, chewing on a piece of wood.

“You could have come to my aid!”

”What, and miss that brutal attack? Yer a warrior woman, and I am doomed to make ye my enemy. Walk with me so I can protect ye from the other idiots in the street.”

When Murtagh squeezed my upper arm muscle and shook his hand like it was burned I huffed at both of them. Feeling Jamie’s arm around my waist I looked at him wondering why he didn’t help us.

He ran his finger down my jaw, “Sassenach, I walked out of the tavern as you were thrashing the man. I could have pulled him away to pummel him, but I wanted ye to know yer strength and ability. Besides, I probably would have killed him and been dragged to jail for murder. And ye were so cute and feisty,” he chuckled, “red cheeks, given him what for.”

He pulled me closer and continued to laugh, asking Murtagh if he saw me stab the bloke with my wee parasol like it was a sword. The two of them were having quite a laugh and I finally gave in to my own laughter which allowed Glavia and Faith to giggle as well.

Misses Crook pushed me upstairs when we got home saying all heroes need their rest. I grabbed Faith’s hand and pulled her into bed with me and we giggled as we tumbled into the soft feather mattress. I pressed my forehead into hers and smiled.

“I hope you weren’t scared sweetheart.”

“I was so proud of you mommy and I smiled when you stabbed that man.”

“My sweet little girl, you should not see such things at your tender age.” I pulled her to me, suddenly aware of Jamie looming above us. His eyes were soft and tender watching us, but he launched into a lesson for his daughter.

“Nonsense, the wee lassie is in training.” He dropped behind Faith and tickled her a bit. “Look no further than yer ma to show you how to be a lady but fierce underneath. Make no mistake my wee love, she has the heart and courage of a warrior so let her teach ye. Now, I want to take my two lasses to the river to fish for supper.”

With that, he took our hands and led us outside to the stream. There was silly joking between Faith and her father but when they laid on the big rock that hung over the water, they became deadly serious. Faith did just as Jamie did and watched his hand through the water. My yawns were getting hard to hide and I doubted they would notice if I laid down in the warm grass for a bit. Just as I was drifting off there was a loud splashing of water and Jamie’s happy cry followed by Faith screaming in horror. I sat up in time to see her little hand around a fat fish and she was terrified, throwing the fish at Jaime and running to my lap. Jamie chased the flopping fish until he could grab it making short work of ending its life. He walked toward us pulling out his knife and I shook my head side to side. He retreated behind the rock and emerged with two gutted fish ready to cook.

“How is that for fierce?” I smiled at him.

“It’s a start, mo chridhe.”

Jamie showed Faith how to spit the fish and start a fire. She watched with great interest, inches from him as he struck the flint and blew life into the flame. Our stomachs churned smelling the cooking fish and we feasted until we couldn’t take another bite.

Faith laid between us and listened to Jamie’s story about Lallybroch and the adventures he had there. My mind drifted back to my own time where people were slaves to their mobile devices, social media, television, and fifty-hour workweeks. Parents were always striving to spend quality time with their children. I wondered if they ever ate by a stream and fell asleep together in the sun. I rather doubted it.

[howlingmedic]

Coming Home: Chapter 3

Coming Home: 

Previous | Next

Synopsis: what happens when the person who finally made their world make sense is taken from them? What happens when the people who were supposed find her can’t?

Warnings: angst, references to religion, fighting, miscommunication, references to blood, idiots in love who don't know what to do with themselves

Relationship: Stucky x Angel!OFC

A/N: There may be a very long delay before the next update because I’m questioning the plot twist I initially wrote. This is especially true because this entirety of Allie’s character and this ship was developed with a friend of mine (the lovely @magellan-88), and there are aspects from that development that I’ve referenced in future chapters that I did not adequately explain. So, in short, you might have to wait a little while to read more about these three, but the next few chapters may be longer as a result of needing to write some flashback scenes into them. Also, I work in healthcare...during a pandemic... and am a student. My life is a shit show. Please be patient.

Chapter Three: Reaching Out

“God damn it!” Bucky’s words bounced off the walls of the tiny apartment they were squatting in this week. It had been two months of searching and getting nowhere. Two months of no new answers. Two months of one of them storming off in a huff when tensions ran too high for them to manage. In that time, Tony had concluded that Allie’s tracker had to have been destroyed. That was one lead gone. Natasha hadn’t found anything conclusive, never anything more than a whisper here or a whisper there. Each eagerly followed up on and found to be nothing. Banner had been the only successful one, but only insofar as having everyone ready to assemble and pouring over lore that could come in handy. Loki had, at least, miraculously, offered to stay on Earth. When Steve had asked why, the god had just smirked and said they had “history.”

So when Bucky screamed out his frustrations, Steve could hardly blame him. What he didn’t have was anything useful to help his partner. Instead, all Steve could do was murmur, “Don’t think anyone in Allie’s family is gonna help us, babe,” and hug the other man from behind. “Come take a break. S’almost 2 in the morning. Ya gotta sleep,” he added with a kiss to Bucky’s temple.

“‘M comin’ in just behind ya. Gotta try a couple more things first,” Bucky mumbled as he leaned back into Steve’s touch and tilted his head up to kiss the blonde’s cheek.

“Doll…” Steve whispered while he combed his fingers through Bucky’s tangled hair that had lost so much of its usual shine. “Just don’t forget to rest.”

“I’m not, I just gotta try one more time.”

“Ya gonna try praying again?” Steve asked with an attempt to keep his tone neutral. So many of their fights had started over the topic of praying, but he didn’t want to fight. He had a favor to ask.

“Yeah, Stevie, I am,” Bucky huffed with the same anger he had felt so many times over the last two months rising to the surface again, each time more quickly than the last. “I haven’t lost faith in her hearing me,” he added in a low growl.

“Don’t you dare think I’ve given up!” Steve bellowed and shoved himself back from Bucky’s chair. His own fury had begun to have a hairpin trigger these last couple months, and Bucky’s anger drew it out faster than anything else in this word. It didn’t help anything that he wished he could reach out to his angel like that.

Bucky stared back at him expectantly, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the effort to rein in his frustration. Enough years of watching Steve had taught him precisely what the way the blonde’s head had just fallen forward and his shoulders had just sagged meant: this anger wasn’t directed at him, at least not entirely. This anger was pointed inward. So, he waited for whatever was about to follow.

“I just… I can’t make myself,” Steve whispered, and shame practically dripped from his every word. “Every time I try, I get stuck in my head and start worrying about what it means if she can’t hear me.” Steve swallowed hard and dug into his eyes with the heels of hands for a moment before adding even more quietly, “I was gonna ask ya to tell her that I love her and miss her. I don’t want her to think I gave up, and if you do… then shit. Can’t imagine what she thinks.”

Bucky sighed and opened his mouth to respond, but he stopped and simply extended his arms towards Steve. The blonde’s head still hung low, but he shuffled over to sit in Bucky’s lap. “She would know exactly what to do right now to make us stop snapping at each other,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s neck.

“Sit here with me while I pray, doll. Ya don’t have to say anything, but it’d mean a lot if you’d stay,” Bucky answered. Steve lifted his head, and his brow furrowed. Bucky pressed on before the blonde could speak, “I’ve been snapping at you cause I’ve felt alone, like we haven’t been working together out here, and then I started praying cause we ain’t got shit to work with, but that’s one way I can feel like I’m doing something. I finally had something I could do, and you kept getting upset about it.”

“I only wished-” Steve started, and Bucky shook his head.

“I know that now, ya punk, and I get it… but please stay.”

“Alright, jerk,” Steve answered sweetly, and he nestled himself in impossibly close to Bucky, making his large frame as small as humanly possible.

Bucky fell silent, and his eyes closed just like when he would meditate, but this felt different. There was a slight charge to the air like when Allie would use her grace, and Bucky’s lips turned up the tiniest fraction of an inch. Tears sprung up at the corner of Steve’s eyes as he sat there curled up in his fiancé’s lap, longing for when a moment like this had once felt so natural. When feeling this connected was as simple as breathing. His eyes fell closed as one tear slid down his cheek. Where are you? He thought desperately, every fiber of his being screaming the question and hoping Allie could hear him. No, not hoping, praying, he realized, and his own lips twitched upwards.

He didn’t hear an answer, and he knew he wouldn’t. Allie had explained more times than he cared to count that she couldn’t answer their prayers since they weren’t angels. When this conversation was had during good times, Bucky usually met that explanation by whining, “then make us angels.” Steve was about to chuckle at the memory when something flashed on the computer in front of them, and he lept out of Bucky’s lap.

“What the -” Bucky started, with more than a touch of frustration in his voice, but that was as far as he got before his mouth snapped shut. “What is it?” he asked in a rush.

“Sam’s coming back,” Steve answered in a deadly cold voice, “he found an angel blade at the compound.” That was when Steve turned to Bucky. He couldn’t face the last fact alone. “There’s blood on it.”

The next few seconds stretched into an eternity punctuated by several sounds. First, there was the clatter of Bucky’s chair hitting the floor. Then, there was Bucky’s whispered, “No.” There were a few footsteps that rang unnaturally loud in Steve’s ears. Next came the sound of two hundred pounds of a man hitting the ground without any attempt to break his fall. The last was his own voice saying, “Bucky, baby, don’t give up on her. The blade is gonna go to the lab and get a whole lot of testing done before we know if she was hurt by it, ok?” That one shocked Steve the most. Not because he barely registered getting up and moving to Bucky’s side, but because his voice came out level.

“She didn’t use her blade, Stevie. Not before she got grabbed,” Bucky argued through what sounded like a throat that was rapidly tightening with unshed tears.

“No, but we don’t know what happened after that, doll. Anything could’ve happened then,” Steve pointed out and settled himself on the floor before tugging Bucky into his lap. It was his turn to comfort his partner. “Doll, I know I was reluctant to pray, and we can talk about the rest of that issue later, but when you were praying, I sorta accidentally prayed?” Steve admitted in a voice that ended up sounding far more like a question than he had intended. “I didn’t really mean to, I was working through what little we knew, and then I got so frustrated that I sorta mentally screamed at her. Well, that’s when the message from Sam popped up. So maybe it’s a good sign,” Steve explained, and, for the first time in weeks, he sounded hopeful, genuinely hopeful, even to himself.

Bucky turned around in Steve’s lap to look at him properly, and Steve had expected the disbelief to be etched into the other’s features. What he hadn’t planned for anger to be there as well. “You prayed once. One god damned time and you mighta gotten a response. I’ve been praying every single night for weeks!” Bucky seethed as the plates in his arms whirred ominously.

“Hold on,” Steve barked and grabbed Bucky’s hands, lacing his fingers with both flesh and metal ones before he tried to placate the man in front of him. Steve locked his eyes with Bucky’s that were alight with anger and tried to find a way to put into words what he had felt, “Before I started, I could feel the charge in the air that’s there when Allie uses her grace, like the residual energy that it gives off. It was like I could feel her here. Didn’t you feel that?” He ended with the question that was both a plea for calm and confirmation that he hadn’t lost his mind.

Bucky’s face bunched up with thought, but his face was still etched with anger. Now confusion was added to the mix, at least, until it wasn’t anymore. His features went slack, and the anger drained from his eyes when he looked back up at Steve. “Yeah, I guess I did. I think I had felt that before too, but I had written it off as wishful thinking. A trick of the mind that I had conjured up to keep from losing hope.”

“I think it was real. I think she’s trying to reach us, Buck, even if that message from Sam was a coincidence. She’s been here,” Steve choked out, and now his throat felt tight. His eyes burned with tears of relief. Suddenly, two strong arms were pulling him into a muscled chest.

“She’s alive.”

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Five, “The Associate”

*NEW* Check out the new character survey I filled out from Becky’s POV here!

*NEW* Take a look at the new character survey I filled out from Harry’s POV here!  

All chapters can be found here!

Inspo tag can be found here!

Spotify playlist *new* can be listened to here!

P.S. - Hi! Thanks so much for reading! I wanted to let you know I go back to work this week after months of being off due to COVID. I’m ahead on chapters right now by like 1-2, luckily, and I’ve been loooooving writing again for the last couple of months. I hope to find time after work and on weekends to still write. If I happen to not be able to post a chapter every week still, I’ll let you know and it may just be less frequent is all :-) Just an FYI. Also, this is my new favorite chapter of this story I’m SO excited for what’s happening!!!!!!

                                     SNEAKYYYYYYYY PEEK 

“Harry,” I mumble aloud, words and thoughts racing around in my head. They steal the words from my mouth, and the moisture from my throat. Exhaling slowly, my fingers wrap around the bigger box, a long rectangular shape. It’s heavy in my hands, and the paper is smooth, the flower shapes embossed into it. Brushing a tear away from the tip of my nose, I set it down on my lap, fingering the edge of paper on the side. I wonder if Harry wrapped these, and if he did, he didn’t do too shabby of a job, I wonder silently. A shock of dark purple catches my eye, and I see the card lying at the bottom of the box, but I ignore it for now. You’re last, because I know you’ll make me cry the most, I tell it. The paper rips quickly between my fingers, but keeps its secret hidden until I tear the paper again, in one long sweep.

Song Inspo: Be Kind by Halsey x Marshmello (click to listen)

                           PART 3: THE ASSOCIATE

             “But if these years have taught me anything it is this: you can never run away. Not ever. The only way out, is in.”

— Junot Diaz

The floor to ceiling windows leave much to the imagination as I stroll past their clouded glass, sure of the fat snowflakes falling behind them. Bringing the mug to my lips, I’m warmed when the coffee passes them. My rings make clinking noises against the yellow ceramic as my shoes pound on the tiling. Looking up, I hurry past the shining doors that begin to close. Exhaling, I press a finger to the number of the floor I seek, adjusting the strap of the bag across my chest. 

“Oh hey,” I mumble once my eyes scan the company I keep on the lift. They hardly nod their head at me as they scroll through pages on their phone. “So um . . I reckon she’s graduated by now, an’ has tha Bar exam comin’ up. Has she mentioned how it went if she’s taken it already?” I inquire excitedly, leaning against the railing and subsequently crossing my legs out in front of me. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Asher retorts, not even lifting his head to look at me. 

“Ashe,-” I begin, but he doesn’t let me get any further with my sentence, finally forgetting his phone. 

“I’m done being your little messenger bird, Harry. I was done with it months ago, I don’t know why you couldn’t take a hint when I stopped talking to you last summer,” he spits, malice laced amongst his words. I try to step into his sentence, much like he did to mine, but once again I don’t get the chance. “If you want to know how Becky’s doing, Harry, then bloody ask her yourself. But don’t fucking lead her on again and then just ditch her, she deserves better than that, and I think you know that too. Talk to her! You try and ask her how the Bar went, or if she graduated already. I don’t know what’s stopping you,” he finally finishes, muttering curses under his breath as he steps off the elevator hurriedly. 

“Well fook me,” I mumble before taking a long pull from the rest of my coffee, suddenly wishing it was Irish. 

+

My body bobs up and down after falling on the springy mattress. I’m reminded of those stick-on glow in the dark stars you’d place on your ceiling as a kid. Suddenly, I wish I had some on mine. Instead, I stare up at a plain ivory ceiling, a color I’m not sure how to feel about right now. I almost space out again after staring at the walls of the same color at my work all day long. When my eyes trail to the rest of my bedroom, they’re bombarded with shocks of color all around. From the posters hugging my walls, the blankets on my bed, the framed pictures, and the mess of my desk. With a yawn, I slide off my bed and walk over to it, booting up my laptop. Running a hand over my face, sleep beckons me back to my bed as my typing fills the search bar. 

“Just one more look,” I mumble to myself, silently promising myself I’ll go to bed after this. 

As the page loads, a smile sparks on my lips when I see the framed diploma on the lavender wall above me. It pulls me back to that day last month when I walked the line to receive it. He filled my thoughts then, calling me back to the assignments he helped me with, and how clinicals were more of a breeze due to working with him. The Fleetwood Mac albums I was gifted for Christmas from Robbie sit beside me, all thanks to his contagious taste in music. Somehow, he was there with me for everything, even if he really wasn’t. The first snowfall this winter, the first anniversary of my dad’s diagnosis, the day of my recent Bar Exam, and anytime I saw something that reminded me of him. That perhaps was the easiest way he appeared in my thoughts of all, coming forth from his home in the back of my head to make an appearance. Because for some reason, he keeps reminding me that I am where I am, all thanks to him. 

+

“Skye?” I murmur, lightly knocking my fist against her door. She turns to me with an inquisitive look, brunette eyebrows raising. 

“I need to tell you something, and you can’t be mad at me.”

“When you start a sentence like that, Ree, you’re pretty much guaranteeing that I’ll be mad,” she almost laughs, beckoning me over with a hand, pausing the video she watches on her phone with the other. “Come here, you look like a lost puppy.”

Exhaling slowly, the nerves tickle along my skin as I cross the room. Scooching over, Skye gives me some room to sit down beside her. 

“So you know that I haven’t been able to find a new job since graduation, which was now a month ago,” I begin, eliciting a simple nod from her as she licks a spoon coated in peanut butter. “Well, I just applied for one.”

Her face morphs into one of happiness suddenly, a smile covering her features. “Ree, that’s great! Why would I be mad at you?” Skye beams, a melodic laugh flowing from her lips. Gently, the happiness dissolves from her face to be replaced with confusion. “Wait, why would I be mad at you again?” she asks firmly, cocking her head to the side. It takes her about ten seconds, but once that happens, there’s no going back. The realization unfolds on her face quickly, eyes widening and mouth settling into a firm line. 

“Becky, you did not! You did not apply there! You bloody idiot!” she almost shouts, wagging the spoon of food at me. 

“It was the only open position I’ve come across in months, Skye! You know that I started looking in November when my clinical was wrapping up at Turner and Jones. They didn’t even hire me, Skye, and that’s unheard of! Somehow every firm in London is full of lawyers, and isn’t hiring any new ones! I had to!” I confess, trying to explain myself. Her hard-set jaw tells me that I haven’t fooled her yet, or won her back to be in her good graces again. 

“You didn’t have to, Ree! You’re not going to be happy there, you know that!” 

“So what? It’ll be experience on my resume then!” I object, trying to knit together a reasoning for my decision. 

“Who bloody cares about your resume, Ree?! You know what you’re doing walking in there, again! You can’t go back to work for him, you know that! Are you bloody stupid applying to work at Harry’s firm?” she explodes, face sewn together with anger and disgust. It almost breaks my heart, but lately it takes more than that to hurt me. 

“No, don’t! Let me explain. I know I have a good shot at getting the job. One, I’ve worked there before and as long as it went well, most places will jump to hire somebody who’s familiar and they had before. Two, I know how stuff works there. Sure it may have changed in the last two years. But I know their filing system, their database, and I sat in on enough fricken consults to know how they work. So I know their process and how they run things with cases. I even know their bleeding copier, Skye. Three, I know that they pay their employees fucking good, and I need that now instead of what the admin job gives me. Four, my experience probably trumps any other candidate who is going in there fresh-faced from uni. I worked there already, and I work at the freaking courts! And five, I won’t let him get to me, Skye. I need this job more than I need him, I wouldn’t have already filled out the application if I couldn’t accept that. I’m over him.”

“Oh bloody hell, Ree, you already filled out the app,” Skye sighs, dropping her head into her hand. She runs her fingers through her blue and purple hair, a long groan leaving her lips. She lifts her head to look over at me with honesty painting her features. “And what if you walk back into his fucking firm, and suddenly, you’re not over him anymore?”

“I don’t know, I’ll figure it out once I get there. Or if I even get there, if I’m hired,” I confess, exasperated by her interrogation. 

“Ree, for all we know he’s still dating that girl. You know that’s going to kill you having to see it firsthand, even more than with Amber,” she coos, reaching a hand out to massage my knee. 

“I know, but I just- I have this feeling, Skye. Maybe it’ll work,” I whisper, dropping my eyes to play with the ring on my pointer finger. 

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then I quit and find a different job. I’ve already quit a job there before, it can’t be too hard to do it again,” I divulge with a huff. 

“I just don’t want you to put yourself through hell working for him again, Ree, you don’t need that a second time.”

“I know. Trust me, I know,” I agree with a spiteful laugh, trying to hide my emotions, but I’ve never been good at doing that with Skye. Or Harry, which makes me doubt this one hundred times more. 

What the fuck am I doing?

+

Mindlessly, I watch as tornadoes form in the murky brown liquid after I remove the spoon with a clanking sound. With a random deep breath, they whirl around in the mug before my eyes, and collapse into nothingness. 

“No luck yet?” somebody asks, stirring my attention. Looking up, I find Sophie shooting me a smile as she pours steaming water in a mug. “With the job prospects?”

“Um, no,” I answer automatically, my sure-fire answer as of recent. “Well, actually I applied for one last night, but I’m not sure how to feel about it.”

“How come?” she inquires, taking a seat at the oval table across from me, jigging a tea bag up and down in the scalding water. 

“It’s at the firm I worked at before, which didn’t end too well on my side,” I reveal, avoiding her prying gaze as I bring the hot coffee to my lips. 

“Oh,” she says suddenly, dropping the tea bag into the water, the string hanging limply over the side. “It’s been a few years, maybe it’ll be a new beginning for you. Don’t worry too much, love. I’ll give you the best bloody recommendation you’ll ever hear when they call,” she almost giggles, patting me on the back before leaving the room. 

A smile sits atop my lips at her words, but I don’t let it sink in, because I’ve been conflicted about my decision ever since I made it. What happens if I get the job and Harry’s still with her? Can I handle watching him love another girl again? No, I know that I can’t. 

“What the fuck?” I mutter under my breath, standing to my feet and soon dumping the caffeinated contents of my mug down the drain. Shaking my head with gritted teeth, I wash it out before setting it in the rack to dry. 

Returning to my desk, I wake my desktop up as I try not to die of boredom from staring at the same four walls for the rest of my day. 

+

“Are you still mad at me?” I ask promptly after disposing of my slushy boots, closing the apartment door behind me. 

“Am I still mad at you for making a decision that you’re going to regret? Yes, I am,” she replies coldly, the fridge door closing behind her before she wanders to the sofa. 

Groaning, I drop my purse on the kitchen island before waddling to the bathroom with a full bladder.

“Your phone is ringing!” she screams down the hall a second later as the toilet flushes below me. Swinging open the door, I dash down the hallway in my socks, almost losing my footing once I arrive in the kitchen. Yanking my phone from my open purse, I find an unfamiliar number staring back at me. But when I see that it’s from London, I don’t waste a second dragging my thumb across the touchscreen. 

“Hello?” I answer, trying to compose myself as I escape to my bedroom, closing the door behind me quietly. 

“Hi, is this Rebecca Holte?” a voice replies, sending my heart into my stomach. I don’t know whether it’s because of the fact that it’s not his voice, or that it’s one that I recognize. And one that I associate with him. 

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hi, Becky, this is Myles from Styles and Lawson. It’s been a while since I spoke to you last, how are you doing these days?” the voice responds with a smile in his words, quickly bringing one to my lips. 

“Myles, hi! I’ve been good thanks, I just finished up uni for my LLB. How have you been? I hope everything at the firm is going well.”

“I heard, that’s great. Good for you, Becky. I’ve been good, thanks for asking, I got engaged recently so that was pretty great. And the firm is doing rather well, thank you. We all miss you here, and I see you’ve applied for the open associate position. I’d love to have you in for an interview. When are you free a morning this week?” Myles says, sending jolts to my sensitive heart with his words. I almost lose it right then and there, but I compose myself and hurry over to my calendar above my desk. 

“Congratulations, Myles, that’s so exciting! Yes, that would be great. Let’s see, I’m free on Thursday morning, I don’t have anything until ten,” I respond, floating over to my bed where I take a seat, jiggling my knee impatiently. 

“Thank you, I’m excited. Alright, Thursday it is then. How does a nine am interview sound to you? You still know where to find us?” 

“Yes, of course, and nine am sounds great. Is there anything you’d like me to bring for the interview just so I know?” I inquire, soon finding myself nibbling at my fingernail. Rolling my eyes at my nervous self, my hand falls to my lap. 

“No, I don’t think so, I believe your application has everything, but thanks. I’ll see you in a few days then, Becky. I’m looking forward to it. Have a great rest of your evening,” he finishes, heartfelt honesty showing through in his words. 

“Thanks, Myles. I’ll see you Thursday, and you as well.”

I fall back onto my bed with a squeal of excitement, thoughts whizzing through my head as a seemingly permanent grin covers my face. It only wavers a tad when his face pops into my thoughts, because I knew I couldn’t avoid it. I can’t avoid him, especially not now with my interview in a few days. 

I’m not really sure what to think of that, or of any of this for that matter. 

+

The next few days only made me grow more nervous and unearthed old memories of him I didn’t know I hid away. Inside jokes I forgot that we had sprang up, as well as the few times I beat him in cribbage, all the times he beat me in Scrabble, the casual hugs that we didn’t even think about, and what he said at my going away party. That memory hurt me the most, finding the irony in it and trying to figure out what it means now. He said that he wanted me to go back into law, because he knew I’d do great things, but what will he think when he sees me walk in that door for the interview? Will Harry be happy to see me? 

When Thursday morning rolled around, I felt like I was going to throw up into my oatmeal, unsure if breakfast really is the most important meal of the day.

“Why are you staring at like it’s going to grow legs and walk away?” Skye questions, arriving on the other side of the island, leaning her crossed arms against the counter. 

“I thought you weren’t talking to me, because you’re mad that I applied for a job at Harry’s firm,” I grumble, listening to the disgusting sound the oatmeal makes as I stir my spoon around in it. 

“Well, I wasn’t talking to you because I was mad at you, but something changed.”

“What’s that?” I sigh, getting to my feet and walking around her. I pop open the trash bin’s lid by pressing on the pedal, and I shovel the oatmeal into the bin. 

“This,” she announces gently, patting my arm until I turn to look at her. I only catch a glimpse of what sits on her phone’s screen, before closing my eyes. 

“I don’t want to see his Instagram, Skye. What the fuck?” I exclaim, giving her a dirty look. Scoffing, I rinse out the bowl and set it in the dishwasher. 

“You mean you haven’t looked at it in the last six months?” she questions in disbelief. 

“No not that I’ll admit to. Why the fuck would I want to do that and see pictures of how happy he looks with his new girlfriend?” I retort, slamming down the handle to the tap, then drying off my hands.

“Because it’s safe to look now, Ree. He doesn’t have any pictures of her on there anymore.”

“What?” I blurt, spinning around fast and quickly cursing my slippery white booties. 

“You heard me,” she smiles, holding out her phone for me, but I don’t bite. Not yet. “It looks like they broke up, who knows how long ago. There’s no evidence they even dated on his profile.”

If the oatmeal had made its way past my lips and to my stomach, I’m positive it would’ve came back up by now. A peculiar response to the jittery happiness coating my body in buckets. Hastily, I yank it from her hands and slide my thumb up the screen. Goddammit, she’s right, I realize as I search his feed, not a picture of her in sight. 

“Oh my God, this is so mean of me to say, but this makes me so happy,” I squeal, pressing the back of my fist against my beaming lips. 

“I thought it would, and I couldn’t think of a better pick me up before your interview today.”

The buzz of elation and disbelief coursing through my body takes precedence over the feeling of her arms coming around me from behind. She presses a loud smooch to my cheek, giggling as she watches me freak out while holding her phone.

“Well, are you going to say something more? Like a ‘thank you,’ ‘I’m going to jump his bones when I see him’, or ‘this is the best news ever’,” she chuckles, pulling away to come to stand across from me. “Ree,” she urges, pushing at my chest as I continue to stare at the screen in silent astonishment. 

“Holy shit,” I whisper, dragging out the last syllable much like somebody I know. “I can’t believe it, and I wouldn’t if I heard it anywhere else, because there’s no way I was touching his Instagram, well when sober,” I chuckle, soon my words falling into a content sigh as I browse the pictures of him. His pictures. 

“You can look later, missy, it’s almost quarter after eight. You better get going if you don’t want to be late.”

“Right right, I should go and finish getting ready,” I agree, nodding along to our words. 

“Go kill ‘em, Ree, and show him what he’s been missing. You can look at the pics later, but you can go and ogle him all you want right now. Cheers, babe,” Skye grins, giving me the quickest hug in the world before leaving out the door with a wave. 

“Oh boy, here we go,” I mumble, exhaling before turning down the hall to my bedroom. “See you in less than an hour, Harry.”

+

Even the lifts smell the same, like expensive carpeting and some cheap air freshener you hang in your car. Luckily, the familiarity relaxes me and keeps me on my feet when I get off onto 17. All of the nerves and worries buzzing inside of me are almost let loose when I scan the floor in surprise. Immediately, my heart plummets at the disappearance of my desk and the remodel. There’s a short hallway by the lifts still, but to my left there’s a lobby with a front desk where none other than Amelia sits. Large gold letters behind her spell out the firm’s name on the wall. Again, I’m surprised. 

“Oh hi, Becky!” she almost shouts when I walk up to the dark coal granite desk, pulling her shock of red hair away from her desktop. 

“Hi, Amelia. It’s great to see you again. How are you?” I answer, my fists probably growing white due to how hard I’m holding the straps of my most professional looking purse. 

“I’m doing lovely, thanks. How are you? I hear you have an interview for the open job!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m here for. I’m a few minutes early, but I’ve heard that doesn’t hurt,” I share, curling my toes within my black heels. 

“No, you’ll be alright, love. It’s better to be early than late. If you just want to have a seat and I’ll let Myles know you’re here. Good luck, Becky!” she smiles, her golden heart necklace jiggling above her freckled cleavage. 

“Thanks,” I respond, turning around to find the new addition of seating across from the desk. 

Trying and failing to breathe deeply, I pick a chair at random. The brown cushion is lumpy and scratchy under the thin fabric of my black dress skirt. Setting my purse down, I take a look around. When it’s safe to, I adjust the berry red chiffon scoop neck blouse underneath, trying to pull it up further. I don’t get long to debate fastening the button of the matching black blazer over my waist, because I hear my name. Sitting up erect, I find Myles walking towards me. 

“Hey, it’s great to see you, Becky,” he chirps, holding out a hand as I stand to my feet. “How are you, love?”

“Thanks for seeing me, Myles, it’s good to see you too. I’m fine, thanks, and how are you?” I respond cheerily, grabbing onto his hand and returning his firm handshake. 

“Just fine, thank you. If you’ll follow me, we’ll take a walk back to my office, although I’m sure you remember how to get there.” 

“Yes,” I confirm, nodding. Anxious breaths leave my lips as my heels click and clack as I follow behind him, down the hallway branching to the side. The hallway, the one I couldn’t forget if I ever tried. I look around, trying to act normal and curious, but the only thing I’m curious about is where he is. And why he’s not here. Did something happen? Is it only Myles interviewing me today? But that wouldn’t make sense, if they’re partners and own the firm together. 

My questions are whisked under the rug when Myles opens the door for me, inviting me into his spacious office I barely recognize. It’s hard to remember what it looked like when I’d only stepped foot in it once or twice, but the area itself is much like Harry’s. More bookshelves and framed pictures occupy his office compared to Harry’s though, or what his office looked like two years ago. It’s close to Harry’s, if only turned to the left a touch, and instead the tall windows are to the right of his desk. Standing in his doorway, his long desk faces me. 

“Have a seat, please. Make yourself comfortable, there’s nothing to be nervous about here,” he insists warmly, closing the frosted glass door without a sound. I wish that was easier said than done as I choose one of the seats in front of his glass desk. Swallowing, I gather my shoulder-length curls to fall over the front of my shoulders. 

“Thank you,” I respond softly, habitually checking for the diamond on my silver necklace, finding it sitting below the hollow of my throat. 

“I don’t think you were ever in my office much,” he says lightheartedly, sandy blonde eyebrows quirking into a question above his sky blue eyes. 

“I was just thinking that, and I don’t think I have. Maybe on one or two occasions,” I think aloud, our soft laughs mixing together as he unbuttons the lone button on his gunmetal gray suit. 

“Yeah, figures. So thoughts on the remodel?”

“Oh, I really like it. It looks very nice.”

“Thank you, it was long overdue. We did it last summer, took us a bit,” he answers, settling into his high-backed black chair, an iMac sitting to his right. My eyes crawl over his unfamiliar desk, and as if my heart wasn’t thrashing around in my chest as it is, it takes a leap. The sight of the second chair to his left is only just registering in my head when I hear rushed footsteps come to a stop in the hallway, and the door opens. 

“‘m sorry ‘m late, tha copier was actin’ up. We really need t’ jus’ buy a new one,” a voice blurts out, closing the door behind them.

The knots coiling my insides together tighten at the sound of his voice, but a second later they relax after having waited so long to hear it. I knew it was coming. My eyes briefly lift to Myles to see him shake his head, carding a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, I don’t think either of us are surprised,” Myles snickers, dropping his hand to meet my eyes. In them, he holds a revealing look accented by a smile. Almost like he knows what I’m thinking. “Harry, I think you know our applicant.”

A deep breath hardly settles into my lungs as I turn my body to face the door. As if a smile wasn’t finding its way to my lips already, observing the one that paints his in seconds is contagious. 

“Becks!” Harry exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air and almost dropping the stack of papers he holds in one ringed hand. “My’ why didn’t ya tell me she was interviewin’? C’mere, love, ‘s been so long,” he insists ardently, wrinkles forming in his glossy black blazer when he holds his arms out for me. 

“Well, didn’t want you to be biased, now did we?” Myles jokes from behind me as I get to my feet. 

“I wouldn’t have been biased,” Harry scoffs, his face falling into a look of disbelief. 

“Hi, Harry,” I mumble, grinning as I walk into his arms. 

“Hi, bug. Long time no see,” he hums softly in his molasses-like drawl. I feel the first moments of relief when his long arms surround me and draw me into his chest. Something I’ve waited ages for, if only seven months. “I so woulda been biased, we both know I was lyin’.”

“Oh, I know,” I giggle against his collarbone, trying not to lose myself in his layers of black clothes, and the smell of vanilla covering him. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, much betta now that yer here. Blimey, yer our nine o’clock interview. Me li’l lawyer Becks, look at you,” Harry coos, pulling away far too soon to my liking to look me in the eyes. I hope that mine look just ten percent as sparkly as his do, I think as his hands cup my shoulders. My knees soon feel wobbly at the sight in front of me, one I so dearly missed. The deep dimples. Crinkly eyes. Bubblegum lips. A light dusting of stubble along his cheeks. Glistening greens. Reddening cheeks. The longer curls that still only fall to his ears. That smile he has just for me. 

“Yep, that’s me,” I suffice with a nervous laugh. 

“And I’m Myles, so shall we get this interview rolling?” Myles pipes up sarcastically, the click of his pen finishing his words. 

“So proud o’ you y’know, ya’ll do great,” Harry whispers to me and only me, squeezing my arm before leaving my side. 

“Thanks so much,” I mumble in return, catching his wink of an eye at me. 

“So now that my colleague is finally here,” Myles begins emphatically, earning a laugh from the three of us. Smoothing down the back of my skirt, I return to my seat, sure I could win a tomato look-alike contest right about now with my blushing cheeks. “Should we get started?”

Harry croons a reply as he falls into the chair beside Myles, adjusting his all-black attire. Suddenly, the pressure in the room has increased tenfold, and I find it hard to keep my hands still in my lap. I’m positive they can see my rapid pulse and galloping heart beneath my skin, but Myles is too occupied by Harry annoying him. I hold back a laugh as Myles gives Harry a dirty look, finally getting him to sit still. Myles soon returns his soft stare back to mine, and so does Harry who gives me a confused look, flitting between Myles and me with shrugging shoulders. It’s like he’s saying what did I do wrong?

“Well, I’ll start by saying we were very impressed with your application, Becky.”

“Thank you,” I reply, asserting my gaze to Myles. One, because he’s the person talking. Two, I know I couldn’t keep it together if I was looking at Harry. I already feel weak all over from seeing him, and from that hug. Goddammit, his hugs never fail to do that. 

“I woulda been even mo’ impressed if ya hadn’t hid tha bloody name when we went ova it, My’,” Harry tsks with a shake of his head curly head, but Myles ignores him. 

“I see you graduated recently with your LLB, and top of your class even,” Myles continues, flipping through my stapled application. It didn’t take me an hour to fill it out for nothing. 

“Yes I did, the middle of last month, December,” I comment, failing to hold back a smile when I glance Harry mouthing ‘good job’ with his hand-shaped into the perfect sign. 

“Congratulations, that’s very impressive, especially after returning to uni after a few years off,” Myles adds. “I even see that you did rather well on your Bar Exam here, and that’s not an easy exam to pass.”

“Yeah, it isn’t. I’m glad my studying paid off,” I explain, earning a nod from Myles as Harry reads over his shoulder. He soon lifts his head to wink at me, silently clapping his hands towards me. Oh, Harry. 

It’s a wonder I don’t fudge up on any answers throughout the next twenty minutes with Harry over there teasing me. I only feel the hints of relief when I’m sitting in my car later, my head on the steering wheel. My thoughts are consumed by that hug and the smile he was wearing all for me. It stayed on his face all throughout Myles’ questions and his own for me, ones that were much less intimidating with those grinning lips. It even remained until the end when I shook their hands, feeling his linger for a few seconds, but then again so did mine. His words rang in my mind as I walked to the lift, thinking over my answers and my presence, but unable to think about much else besides the two men saying I’d hear from them in the next few days regardless. 

Now, for the waiting game, the one I’m not very good at. I’m even worse at it when it has anything to do with Harry. 

+

“My’, we hafta hire her,” I announce suddenly, seconds after I can no longer hear the noise of her departing heels. The sound does nothing for the adrenaline coursing through my veins, leaving my body simultaneously jittery and exhausted.

“We still have interviews for the rest of the day, Harry. Bloody eight of them,” Myles responds coldly, disagreeing with me as he writes something down on the printed copy of her application. 

“Myles, y’know she’s gonna be tha best one. She knows how everythin’-.”

“No, I don’t know that until we interview the rest, Harry,” he retorts, returning to his writing with a perturbed frown. His name jumps from my lips in an argument, but he stops me there. “I know, Harry . . I know what you’re saying, but I can’t just tell these people to go home. We’re the only firm hiring in town from what I hear.”

“Y’know I won’t like ‘em one bit. I can’t afta Becks was jus’ here and tha bloody great job she did interviewin’,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest, trying not to think about how wonderful it felt to have her between them. How natural it left, like home. The surprise that took the breath from me at the sight of her sitting in that chair to be interviewed by us. Just how much I fucking missed her all these months. Lastly, the way she somehow looked even more beautiful after going without seeing her for seven months.

Fuck. 

“I know, and I want to hire her too, but wrap it up, Harry. We have another one that’ll be here any minute.”

“Ya, whateva,” I reply curtly, swinging my chair around to look past him and peer down at London. I’m consumed by the question of which car is hers down there driving among the skyscrapers, or if she’s still in the lift. Once again, too far away for me. 

Too far is just out of arm’s reach. 

I don’t even get a chance to lose myself in my thoughts of how gorgeous she looked without even having to try, how her hair has grown longer with her adorable waves, the happiness that washed over her face when she turned to look at me, and the fountain of regrets that filled me at the sight of her. 

Regrets I want to rectify, and ones I know that I should have a long time ago. 

+

“Ya, really?” I rasp softly, brow touching the sky as my face widens in disbelief. 

“Yeah, go do it then,” Myles agrees, shooing me away with his hand and a pleased grin. 

“Are ya gonna say it?” 

“No.”

“My’,” I tease with a giggle, backing up towards the door, feet itching to reach my office.

“Hare,” he says firmly, meeting my eyes. A laugh sings from my lips as I look at him, smiling. “Fine, you were right.”

“I told ya, ‘m always right. Y’know ya won’t regret this, ‘s gonna be great. She’s gonna be great,” I smirk, pointing a finger at him before turning around to saunter down the hallway. 

“Hare?” he calls after me. I respond by twirling around to face him, clapping my hands together happily. “I reckon it goes without saying that she’ll be your mentee then?” he says, sending the question into the air, and somehow I only grow more excited at it. I wasn’t sure if that was possible. 

“Well ya, dunno why yer askin’,” I smirk, rubbing my hands together dramatically while biting my smiling lips. I actually manage to get a laugh out of him, but it quickly fades as he toys with something on his desk. 

“Are you gonna be able to handle being that close to her again?” he inquires softly, not meeting my eyes. “I know how you still feel about her, Harry,” with that confession he returns his eyes to mine, more words held in them. 

“Ya . .  I promised meself ‘m not gonna fook it up this time,” I announce softly, feeling the weight of the words on my tongue, and in my heart. 

“Hare, you better not fuck this up again. You know the universe doesn’t throw second chances at people so obviously like this.”

“I know, My, and ‘m not gonna waste it,” I deliver to him and the air, feeling the promise bind together immediately. I just hope I can keep it, this time. I have to.

+

The buzzing in my pocket is incessant as I twist the key in the lock. It takes too long after I struggled with shaking hands to slide it in correctly. First, I had it upside down, and then I dropped my ring of keys. Groaning, after I turn on a light, I fling my phone onto the sofa. A determination drives me as my feet pound through the apartment, the last thing I’m able to do right now is to retell the story to Skye. 

I can’t wait any longer. Flinging the door open to my bedroom, I step over forgotten dresses, trousers, and blouses scattering my floor. I toe off my heels to add to the mix, feeling the same taste of that sweet relief when my hand touches my closet door. Quick breaths flow out of me as I rip it open, eyes scanning the shelves and hangers full of clothes. 

“Come on, come on, where are you?!” I mumble aloud, pushing sheets of clothes to the side. 

Tossing papers, fallen shirts, old cards, and balls of yarn from my knitting phase aside, I happen upon a patch of brown. But when I free it from the confines of the junk that litters my closet, my heart sinks at its unfamiliar appearance. Huffing, I shove it back onto that shelf, peering at the shelf above it on my tippy toes. I can’t remember the last time I rearranged in here, and at that realization, figurative cement lines my gut quickly. I’m two seconds away from giving up as my hands brush along the top shelf, only feeling books and magazines, but then I feel something. 

An other worldly sigh drops from my lips when I pull down the heavy box, it falling into my arms. A sneeze flies from my nose at the layer of dust coating the top of the cardboard that I brush away. The anticipation has replaced the unpleasant feeling in my gut, and now my heart beats even faster, and harder. I sink to the floor right there, folding my knees under myself as I still sit in the smooth tight clothes from my interview which became work clothes. Setting it down in front of me, the box slides from my hands. With trembling fingers, I pry apart the flaps of cardboard woven together. Slowly, the floral lavender wrapping paper appears before my eyes, and that’s when the tears arrive. 

“Harry,” I mumble aloud, words and thoughts racing around in my head. They steal the words from my mouth, and the moisture from my throat. 

Exhaling slowly, my fingers wrap around the bigger box, a long rectangular shape. It’s heavy in my hands, and the paper is smooth, the flower shapes embossed into it. Brushing a tear away from the tip of my nose, I set it down on my lap, fingering the edge of paper on the side. I wonder if Harry wrapped these, and if he did, he didn’t do too shabby of a job, I wonder silently. A shock of dark purple catches my eye, and I see the card lying at the bottom of the box, but I ignore it for now. You’re last, because I know you’ll make me cry the most, I tell it. 

The paper rips quickly between my fingers, but keeps its secret hidden until I tear the paper again, in one long sweep. A shiny black box meets my eyes, but I’m guessing it’s the back as I find words and small pictures. Flipping it over, I peel back a shred of the wrapping paper, sad to destroy the beautiful flowers. The sadness is met with a bittersweet happiness when the image on the front of the box graces my eyes, sending my hand to my mouth as a sob leaves it. 

“Oh, Harry,” I cry, pressing my lips into a line as the cry washes over my body. “You didn’t.”

But he did, and I can’t believe my eyes as the Yamaha PSSA50 37-Mini-Keyboard sits in my hands. A mini keyboard for the piano nerd that I am, and always have been. He remembered, of course he did. The tears only fall faster and my body shakes harder when I peel back the paper on the smallest present, a violet Moleskine journal with a purple gel pen clipped to the top. They come harder when I peel back the wrapping paper on the last little rectangular shaped gift, the first season of FRIENDS on DVD. Then they fall all over the card, once I convinced myself to stop holding the three presents to my chest, ugly cries leaving my lips. 

With tears scattering the front of the already opened card, I finally open it and see his messy handwriting covering the inside. 

June 12th

To my Becks, 

Happy Birthday, bug!!!! I know we haven’t talked much lately and I apologize for that. Life has been crazy for the both of us, I think would be safe to say. Alright let me think of all of the insults to call you old that I can think of since you love to do it for me. 26 though I remember being that age. It was shortly before I met you I think. I reckon you’ll enjoy being 26 and truly I hope it’s everything you want it to be. It’s the year you become a lawyer woohoo! I can’t wait to hear all about it I’m so proud of you for going back to uni and finishing up. I already know you’ll be a fantastic lawyer. Really. I remember you said once that you and your brother spend your birthday together and you have some sort of tradition that I can’t recall. I hope you had fun together. Anyways I hope you enjoy the presents and that you use them. I don’t need to explain the keyboard I don’t think, but I hope you can get back into piano with it - just have fun with it. I can’t believe I found a purple one :) The journal I should explain - it’s for you to write songs in. Well the DVD set doesn’t need much of an explanation either but we’ll have to watch it together soon. I miss watching FRIENDS with you already, you make me love Phoebe even more with that sweet laugh of yours. I know 25 was a rough year for you with a new job, uni, and your dad’s cancer so I truly hope that 26 is far better. It’s meant a lot to me that we’ve reconnected over the last several months and I hope it has for you too. I’m really happy that your dad is okay now and the cancer is gone. When things get less crazy we’ll do that lunch I promised, and you know that I keep my promises. We need to catch up so you can tell me all about your plans for big 26! Like have you been assigned a site for your clinicals in the fall yet to dip your toes into the lawyer life? Have you scheduled your Bar exam? Where’s your dream job at? Are you having fun buying fancy lawyer outfits, like you know I do? I still need to figure out what your favorite episode of FRIENDS is... I caught on telly the beach house one the other night and it made me think of you. Oh have you seen that clip where Phoebe gets caught in a sweater she tries to put on? I had tears in my eyes crying from that one the other day, Becks! Anyways I’m running out of room here but I want you to know I’m thinking of you on your birthday and that I wish you a wonderful one. I hope 26 is the best year yet and we’ll have to celebrate with drinks soon. Text me when you’re free for drinks yeah? I’m excited to see you and hear how your first day of being 26 was. Happy Birthday, bug! 

Harry xxxxx

As if my heart doesn’t already feel like it’s going to burst from my chest, it receives a scare when I hear my phone ringing from the living room. I start to ignore it as the guilt and happiness form a cocktail in my heart, but when I listen closer, I realize it’s not the ringtone I have for Skye. Groaning, the card drops from my hands as I dash down the hall until I locate my phone in the pile of blankets. The weakness in my legs returns when I see who’s calling. 

Harry (work) 

“Hello?” I answer, feeling short of breath for so many ungodly reasons. Clearing my throat, I hope that my voice doesn’t sound weird to him. By weird, I mean that I had just been crying. 

“Hey, Becks. ‘s Harry. How’re ya doin’, love?” he croons, pulling my lips into a smile that was hiding there. I feel it cover my face as his voice fills my insides. 

“I’m doing well, thanks. I just got home from work.”

“Ah, quite tha busy day fer you, how was it?” his question trickles into my ears as I sink to the floor again, pulling the lavender keyboard onto my lap. 

“It was good. How was your day, Harry?” I reply, pressing the ‘on’ button and adjusting the volume to a low setting. 

“Long,” he chuckles with a dreary sigh. “Interviews all day long, some yesterday and tha day befo’, they’re not very much fun.”

“I can imagine. I don’t think they are for anybody,” I agree aloud, shouldering my phone and settling both hands on the keys. If I could, I’d blame it on being a girl, but the emotions bubbling up inside of me bring tears to my eyes as I play a quiet song. Instead, I blame it on him - his alive voice in my ear, and all of the words that his gift of this piano says, and the others. All of the words that I doubted and tried to hate him for not saying, when all along he did. All along, he still cared. I don’t know now how I could have ever doubted him. 

“Ya okay, love? Frog in yer throat?”

“Yeah, something like that. I’m just playing my keyboard you got me, I love it so much,” I reply, willing the tears from my voice, but leaving the emotions there to seep through. 

“Ah, ya don’ know how happy I am t’ hear that, Becks. ‘m so happy yer playin’ again. I hope maybe I can hear sumthin’ on it one o’ these days.”

“Me too, and yes I’ll have to play you something sometime,” I echo him, running my fingers over all of the buttons for different sounds, recording, beats, etc. “I uh wanted to thank you again for it, and the other birthday presents. They were so thoughtful and sweet of you, they were perfect.”

“Aw, yer sweet, love. Yer welcome, ‘m really happy t’ hear yer still enjoyin’ em,” he responds, the molasses in his voice intensifying, followed by a pause. “Sorry, I should get t’ why I rang,” he titters from my shoulder and my laugh follows his. 

“It’s okay, it’s nice to talk to you like this.” 

“Thanks, but ya might get sick o’ me soon, coz I wanted t’ let y’know that ya got tha associate position, bug,” he coos in my ear, the smile leaking from his voice, letting me know it’s there without seeing it. 

“What?! No way!” I exclaim excitedly, losing my fingers in my hair in disbelief. “Harry, t-thank you so much!” I continue, setting the keyboard down to get to my feet. With wide eyes and a smile plastered across my face, it trickles to the rest of my body where I pump my fist in the air. I almost feel like dancing. 

“Yes, really, love. Ya got tha job- I mean ‘m not gonna lie, ya had it from tha second ya walked in tha door. Couldn’t find a betta candidate than you, Becks,” Harry hums, causing the feeling in my legs to liquify, suddenly making me feel like Jello all over. “And um, you’ll be my mentee then, and ‘ll be yer mentor fer prolly tha first few years, I reckon. Sumtimes if ‘m outta town fer a case far way, or t’ change it up if there’s a good case sumwhere else, ya may work with Myles or Rose. Ya can learn loads from ‘em. Otherwise, you’ll be with me e’ry day workin’ with me on me cases and learnin’ from me. I mean, as long as yer alright bein’ with me,” Harry murmurs as I pace around my bedroom, soon falling to sit on my bed, because at the sound of his voice I can’t stand anymore. Not after those words can I stay standing. My head falls into my hands where I can feel the smile against my palms, my legs jiggling excitedly under my arms. 

This can’t be real, can it? I got the job, and I get to work with him!

And he’s single again, remember that! 

Yes, demon, I know. But wait, you’re actually right this time. You’re right?! Yes, he is single and I got the job, shadowing under him! Holy shit! Holy shit! 

Time to jump his bones, Becky. 

You may be right again. 

Don’t fuck it up again, girl. Get him alr-

“‘s that okay, Becks, you workin’ with me?” 

“Yeah,” I begin with warm cheeks as the giddiness overcomes me. “Hmmm, I don’t know, I think I might like working with Myles better,” I tease, keeping my voice even. 

“Oh, um that’s okay too, I guess,” Harry sighs, the happiness in his voice going from eighty to ten real quickly. “I can ask My’, ‘m sure he wouldn’t-.”

“Harry, I’m just giving you a hard time. I’d love to work under you, i-it’d be a dream,” I respond adamantly. 

Yeah, I’m sure there’s a lot of things you’d like to do that involve being under him, Becky. 

Oh my god, shut up! I can’t deal with you right now. I can’t mess this up! 

“Fook, Becks, ya gave me a fright there. Ya almost broke me li’l heart,” Harry whines but soon his dramatics end with his song-like laugh. It’s still as contagious as ever, bringing one to my lips. “Ya’d love t’ work with me, and it’d be a dream? Wow, I betta watch me ego, yer not helpin’ it.”

I savor hearing his melodic laugh in my ears, unsure of the last time I heard it, and so certain of how it easily starts to knit together all of the broken pieces inside of me. One by one. I feel a pang when I remember back to June and the nightmare I went through after seeing his picture, but I try to push it away. I try to not remember how it made me feel, and sometimes how I couldn’t get out of bed, or look at a picture of him without crying. 

Okay, this is the angel speaking. Stop beating yourself up and thinking about that time. Because things are getting so good right now, I can’t even believe it myself!

I mean, she’s right, the demon says. 

“Yeah, a dream,” I decide to say, interrupting my nostalgia from hell. 

“Seems we have that in common. Always wanted t’ teach ya more ‘bout law when ya were me P.A. and ‘m glad now that I get t’. ‘s kinda hard t’ believe yer a full grown lawyer now, my li’l Becks,” Harry coos, his voice taking on the pitch of one you’d use when talking to children, but I enjoy it. I melt at the sound of it. 

“Yep, I’m all grown up and ready to hit the courts!” 

“Right, ya are. Um, I was hopin’ t’ start sum orientation with ya soon. I reckon yer still workin’ at tha courts on tha west side o’ town. I was hopin’ t’ do a full day, but we can divvy it up between a few if that works betta. Jus’ lemme know what ya can do and I can make it work. Lemme grab sumthin’ t’ write on here,” he explains, humming a tune as I hear noises from his side like drawers opening and clattering of pens. 

“Yeah, of course and thanks for being so flexible. Let me look at my work schedule,” I reply, getting to my feet and crossing the room to my desk. Taking a seat, I also grab a pad of paper and a pen to have ready. Lifting my head, I narrow my eyes at the schedule I have hanging above my desk. “Okay, so I’ll let my boss Sophie know in the morning that my last day will be in two weeks. I am five days a week there, but I could do like eight to ten for a few days in the morning? I’m sorry, that’s kind of all I have right now for the next two weeks, but I can talk to my boss. Does that work for you, Harry?”

“Thanks, Becks, but I don’ wanna stretch ya too thin with two jobs goin’ on. We can always wait until . . what’s two week from monday? Mmmm, I see ‘s tha twenty-eighth, we can wait ‘til then, I don’t mind. I was jus’ wonderin’, ‘m sorry I shouldn’t have asked fer ya t’ come in any earlier,” he responds gently, eager embarrassment coating his words. 

“No, it’s okay, Harry. I’ll see if my boss has any ideas when I see her tomorrow and I’ll get back to you, okay?” 

“Ya, that sounds great. No rush, tho’. Everything will be fine if we wait ‘til tha twenty-eighth. It may not even take as long since ya know loads o’ tha protocols here already. But yeah, please don’t worry ‘bout it, Becks. We can wait two weeks,” he assures me, and I swear the happy buzzing inside of me only grows louder and impatient. 

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, ‘m sure, Becks.”

“Thank you. Is there anything you need me to do or like send in in the meantime?” I wonder aloud, jotting down a few things on the to-do list notepad I grabbed. These include telling Sophie about the new job, and starting at the firm on the 28th. I can hardly believe the words I’m writing. 

“Erm, I think I jus’ need a copy o’ yer driver’s license fer identification, and uh a copy o’ yer LLB and law license. But ya can jus’ email me scans o’ those. Otherwise, everythin’ else was in yer application, I think. I guess if ya don’ have enuff suits ya could buy sum o’ those in tha next two weeks,” he replies with a giggle. 

“Sounds good. Thanks, Harry. I’ll get right on those.”

“Yer welcome, Becks. ‘ll uh let ya go then. ‘m gonna head out anyways, go and have a bloody drink afta t’day, ugh,” he sighs. “So, I have it down as you startin’ on tha twenty-eighth. But we have eachotha’s numbas so if sumthin’ changes or ya have any questions jus’ lemme know. Do ya have any right now, love?” 

“No, you answered them or covered them already, but thank you,” I respond, dropping the pen and scratching at the back of my neck. My cheeks are starting to hurt from all of this smiling, but I don’t think I ever want it to stop. Or for his voice to stop. “Wait, I have a little question. How about after my orientation, we get those drinks and lunch- well dinner we forgot about this summer?” 

“Ya, ‘d love that, Becks. ‘s about time we did it, and now we can celebrate yer new associate job at tha firm! No betta reason t’, I reckon. Well, ‘ll let ya go, yer prolly starvin’ too,” he says, a laugh adorning his words, and finding its way into my heart. Again. “‘m lookin’ forward t’ havin’ ya back here with us, Becks. I really am. And ‘m excited t’ have ya workin’ with me ‘gain, I hope ya won’t get too sick o’ me. Don’ worry, it’ll be betta this time, I promise.”

Shaking my head, I try to steady my breaths with a deep inhale. It does little to calm the dancing of my heart and the jitters coursing through my body. I swear my mantra is and always will be that he doesn’t know what he does to me, he truly doesn’t. 

“I’m really excited to come back to the firm to work with you again too, Harry. Thank you so much for the opportunity, and please tell Myles that as well. I have high hopes for round 2.”

“Me too, bug, it’ll be fun t’ have ya there as a colleague this time ‘round. ‘m excited t’ be yer mentor. Have a good night and take care, Becks. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon,” Harry finishes, that smile in his voice again. I just know it. 

“Bye, Harry.”

I’ll see you soon, but two weeks isn’t soon enough. No, it’s not. I hope it can be sooner, oh God, please. 

[insidethemindofk]

Heartbreak is a Motherfucker

To whoever is reading this, welcome to my blog!

For this blog post, I share with you an excerpt I simply like to call Heartbreak is a Motherfucker, because that's exactly what it is.

As a note, listen to Drew Barrymore by SZA as you read. Lyrics are mentioned in italics.

Enjoy!

Won’t you shut up, know you’re my favorite, 

Am I?

Warm enough for ya, outside baby, yeah..

Is it, warm enough for ya, inside, me, me, me, me..

Warm enough for ya, outside baby, yeah..

Warm enough outside, inside, me, me, me, me..

As the lyrics of Drew Barrymore by SZA played, making its way through my headphones into my ears, I cried so many tears of sadness, it seemed never ending.

Never in a million years did I think I would be able to experience a pain such as this, yet, here I am.

Heartbreak.

For lack of better words, it's a motherfucker.

I guess this is the cost of vulnerability, and taking the risk of putting your heart in someone else's hands. Because when you take such a brave step, you do so in the strong hopes that the person you gave it too, won't fuck up and break it.

Sorry, I just need to see you, I’m,

Sorry I’m so clingy, I don’t mean to be a lot..

You wish that such a horrible thing could be unavoidable, but with every risk there is a consequence. Is this mine?

Now, at this point of dwelling in my agony, I start to blame and question not only myself, but everything. Every moment, every memory, every. single. intimate detail that has transpired between us. Wondering if it was all just a lie. A big waste of time.

I'm sorry I'm not more attractive,

I'm sorry I'm not more ladylike,

I'm sorry I don't shave my legs at night..

Was I at fault? Did I do or, say the wrong thing? Why wasn't I enough? What about me wasn't good enough for you? Did you mean all those things you said to me? Or was this another episode within the figment of my imagination where I pretended this was my reality.

Do you, really wanna love me down like you say you do?

Give it to me like you say you do?

I sit in my room for hours on end, not bothering to check the time that feels as though it does not exist. I feel a sharp pain in my chest, is that my heart breaking perhaps? 

I mourn what once was, saddened that it was in fact, too good to be true. I wish the happiness you once gave to me could have lasted a lifetime, oh my god, I was truly mistaken to hope for such a thing! 

Now what has replaced those smiles and joy is a blank face, staring into the darkness of my room feeling empty, shocked & numb. 

I was caught in your grasp, totally unable to free myself from you. I knew the day would come where I would be able to fly away, as free as a bird. But who knew that escaping the strong hold you once had over me would put me in such a place of despair and misery?

Do you really love me?

Or just wanna love me down?

As I struggle to go through this gut-wrenching experience, I am once again reminded of all those in the past who have hurt me, such as you. So many feelings are swarming in, rattling around in my brain. Fighting for the top spot of controlling my range of emotions.

I get so lonely I forget what I’m worth,

We get so lonely we pretend that it’s worse,

I’m so ashamed of myself, think I need therapy..

Inadequate. Worthless. Unlovable. Unattractive. Sadness, Hurt and Pain.

The whispers start to come in, and my head aches as I try to fight them out.

"They never would have loved you, and can you blame them? Most people don’t care about black women anyway."

"They only got close to you so they could use you, and dispose of you once they were finished."

"Nothing that happened between you both was ever real anyway. It was all in your head!"

(God, I wish I had a pint of ice cream to chow down on, but this writing will have to suffice.)

When hurtful things happen to me, my brain can be quite harsh to me. Considering this, on top of the fact that I am already suffering, this heartbreaking experience beings to become unbearable.

'Cause it's hard enough you got to treat me like this,

Lonely enough to let you treat me like this..

Going through a heartbreak is different for everyone. For me, the pain is right up there with losing a loved one. I say this because it hurts so much to the point where I can physically feel it manifesting inside of me. The pains in my stomach, and in my chest feel like daggers being thrown, and I am the target.

I’m sorry you’ve got karma comin’ to you,

Collect your soul, get it right..

Slowly falling into a pit of despair, I begin to wonder if it is even possible to survive a blow such as this.

But, it is in this moment that I must, I must remind myself of the strength that exudes itself from within me.

I have been through a great deal in my short life. I have lived, LIVED, through my fair share of grief and pain. In the end, I always come out on top, stronger, smarter and better than before.

This time will not be any different.

A wise person once told me "it's gotta hurt before it can heal!" They're right.

As the hours turn into days, and the days turn into weeks; which in part turn into months and then years.. I will look back on this moment, and at that, with a smile. Because sunshine always comes after the storm. While the time passes, the pain will subside as I return to the new improved version of myself. One who has dealt with all sorts of pain, sorrow and hardships and despite it all; overcame.

Heartbreak is not forever, only a temporary (yet painful) feeling. Since it is temporary, that simply means that it will pass. 

It. Will. Pass.

Warm enough outside, inside, me, me, me, me..

[louhooo]

Hello My Old Heart | Chap. 1

Chapter Summary: Your first night back in town

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader [AU]

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, mentions of smoking, angst 

A/N: I’ve been writing this for a while, and I’m finally pushing myself to actually post something. I really wanted to make a fluffy firefighter Bucky, but then I started writing and it got a whole lot angstier real quick. Oops 😬 This’ll be a series, but how many chapters is undetermined at the moment. Also, this chapter is long, but I don’t expect every chapter to be this long. 

Feedback is very much appreciated! Let me know what you think! 💘

There’s a very specific thing that happens when you return to the town you grew up in. Every change that happened since you left comes barreling to the forefront, making sure you know that life still went on without you there to witness it. The gas station on the outskirt of town finally updated the pumps from the analog to digital. A new stop sign was put near the elementary school, this one equipped with a flashing red light. And it looked like the siding on Peggy’s was new. Or, at least, painted to look new.

But, even with all of the transformations, the old still called out to you. 

The marquee was still bright red and flashed the name of the movie that finally made its way to town. You’re pretty sure that movie came out on DVD a month ago. The blue and white banner hung on the back of the bleachers, reminding you that high school football was still the most important thing to the town. And the speed bump two blocks north of the city park reminded you that you were, once again, driving way too fast.

You still weren’t sure if you were sold on any of it, though.

You had taken the long way, opting to take the old highway over the interstate. The old highway was notorious for being the only road anyone over the age of 70 would take when they needed to leave town. The slow traffic always added another half an hour, at least, to the commute. But, for the first time in history, you’re sure, every senior citizen in Esterwind decided not to go anywhere today, and you got into town quicker than you would have if you took the other way.

You had tried killing time in your room at the hotel, but Clint started blowing up your phone, asking when you were going to head to Fury’s. You were tempted to feign fatigue or an upset stomach from the long car ride, but you knew better. If you didn’t drive yourself, a whole group of people would show up at the hotel and drag you out, and claim it was for your “own good.”

A soft rap on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw black aviators and a cheeky smile beaming at you. You grinned back, pulling the keys out of the ignition. One final deep breath and you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and got out.

“Well, hey stranger.”

“Hi, Clint,” he adjusted his hearing aid and you let out a sigh, “I thought when I talked to you last, you promised to get them looked at?” You raised your brows at him, “Or did you already break them... again?” He laughed and took a step before enveloping you in a hug.

“I missed you, smart ass.” You laughed and wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tighter, all of your stress melting away. At least for the time being.

“I missed you, too,” he pulled the two of you apart.

“C’mon. I promised Nat I’d get you inside, so don’t bolt on me,” he started pulling you towards the bar that you’d spent way too much time at as kids. Never to drink, just to hide in the back room and bother Nick. Well, he says you all bothered him, but he also always let you guys in whenever you came around. He said it was better to keep us inside where he could keep his eye on you and keep you all from “terrorizing the neighborhood.”

“Is…?” You swallowed and Clint wrapped his arm around your shoulder and slowed his pace.

“Him and Steve are still at the station, but they’re comin’ later,” you let out a quiet sigh. “It’ll be alright, kid.” You chewed on your cheek. Easy for him to say, you thought. You stepped onto the curb and Clint pulled open the dingy red door. The distinct smell of beer and stale cigarette smoke greeted you. Nick always complained that no matter how many times he painted, it always smelled like smoke. 

You joked once that it might have been karma getting back at him for letting people smoke at his bar. He just stared at you until you stopped laughing. You weren’t surprised when he informed you the next time he needed to paint, you would be helping him.

You and Clint both slid your glasses to the tops of your heads, taking in the room. It was loud; people were laughing and Jim Croce was playing on the jukebox. It was bar policy: if you wanted to listen to something from this century, you could take yourself to another bar.

Clint led you towards the back where two familiar faces were already waiting. Sam shot up and gave his charming-as-ever smile.

“Well, shit! Y/F/N Y/L/N!” Clint moved just enough out of the way to make room for Sam. You smiled as Sam wrapped his arms around your waist, unexpectedly picking you up and spinning you.

“Oh my god! Sam!” You let out a surprised laugh as you held onto to him. He set you down and you steadied yourself, “Sammy! What was that for!?” He laughed.

“I’ve only been able to see ya on FaceTime, you’re lucky that’s all I did. My idea for a parade got shot down. Was even gonna make up shirts with your face on ‘em.” You grinned and rolled your eyes.

“Oh, glad to see you’re still dramatic. Here I was thinkin’ it was all for show.” He laughed, making your smile grow.

“Sam, move.” There was very obvious ire in her voice. Sam moved out of the way and Nat came into view, her hair seemingly redder than the last time you FaceTimed her 72 hours ago. She had a brow arched and you gave her a soft grimace.

“Hi, Nattie….” you spoke softly. You had gotten used to just ending the call whenever she started lecturing, but now you were face-to-face and slightly terrified. She rolled her eyes, her shoulders relaxing in the process.

“Oh, come here,” she stepped forward and you hugged each other tightly. “I missed you,” she whispered into your ear. Tears welled and you returned the sentiment.

“Oh, great, you got her crying, Nat,” Clint teased. You dropped your holds and gave each other an understanding look. Nat turned to Clint.

“Don’t be an asshole, asshole.” Clint let out a hearty laugh and slid into the booth section of the table. Nat followed and leaned into his side just like she always did. You watched Clint kiss her temple, and sighed involuntarily.

“I’m gonna get something to drink, you guys good?” You were met with a chorus of “goods!” and Clint telling you to get him a beer. You walked over to the bar and leaned against the counter while you waited. Happenstance had you glance down at the bar top, instantly making your stomach drop. Carved into the wood were the initials JBB and Y/I with a jagged heart etched around it.

“Ya know, if you two hadn’t of done that, I’d probably have a perfectly graffiti-free bar top,” a burly, but kind, voice reverberated in your ears. You looked up and slowly smiled at Nick. He raised his brow, “Let me guess: Bud Light for Clint and… one of those wine coolers for you?” You chuckled softly.

“Clint’s is right, but I’ll have a long island and a shot of tequila.” He gave an amused look and went to make the order. “How ya been, Nick? Any teenagers you givin’ empty threats to?” He chuckled and turned to face you.

“They weren’t empty. Ask Wilson or Romanoff how many times I called their folks. You were just roped into the bad behavior, so I let you off the hook. ” You laughed and faintly shook your head.

“Don’t you know, Nick? It’s always the quiet ones.” He grinned and slid a lime and a shot glass towards you. You shot it back as soon as he was done pouring it, then bit into the lime, putting the rind in the empty shot glass.

“How’s everything for you?” You shrugged, keeping your eyes on the beer bottle in front of you.

“Work is good.” He gave a pointed look while he mixed your drink.

“You know that’s not what I mean….” Your shoulders slumped.

“I… haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know once I do.” He didn’t say anything, just letting out a deep sigh, much like a disappointed parent, and finished making your drink.

He slid it to you, “How long you stayin’?”

“I don’t know yet. We’ll see how long Nat can convince me I should.” You grabbed your wallet, “How much?”

“For you… $9.” You grinned and laid down a twenty.

“Thanks, Nick. Keep the change.”

“$11 for a tip?” He asked amusedly.

“Well, think of it this way: the more I drink, the more likely it is that I’m gonna forget to pay, let alone tip.” He chuckled and grabbed the bill. You grabbed the drinks after stuffing the wallet into your bag, “See ya in a bit, Nick.” You headed back to the table and saw that a blonde had joined. You handed Clint his beer and sat down beside Sam.

Sam slung his arm around you. “So, any chance of you buyin’ me a drink now?” You pinched your brows and looked up at him.

“Dude, I asked if you needed anything and you said no.”

“Yeah, but that was before I finished my drink.” You snorted.

“Sounds like a “you problem” now, bud.” He reached and tugged on your hair, making you gasp. You turned and glared at him.

“Sounds like a “you problem” now, bud.” He parroted back like a bratty kid. You crossed your eyes and glanced at Sharon.

“Hey, lady,” she said with a grin. You huffed out your nose and grinned as you both stood up and hugged each other. “We’ve missed you.” You exhaled softly and squeezed her once more before pulling back and sitting back down. 

“I missed you, too, Shar.” You took a sip of your drink, and then another, trying to get a small buzz before the inevitable.

Conversations flowed effortlessly. It was almost like the universe was taunting you with how easy it could have been if you hadn’t left.

Nat passed around her phone and showed off the still-in-progress tattoo she’d given to a group of bikers who passed through today. Her work had improved tremendously since you were 16, when she gave everyone the same star tattoo, effectively branding you all into some off-brand cult. 

Sharon recounted the patient who heaved all over her that morning. The story didn’t go on for very long before Clint and Sam started to lose color and made her stop talking about it. You had planned on being a nurse with her, way back in high school when everything in the world was still bright and shiny.

But plans change.

You hadn’t eaten much of anything all day, not wanting to eat in the car and too stubborn to stop for food, so the one drink had already started to affect you. You giggled and smiled, almost having forgotten how it felt to be that light.

A new song came on the jukebox and it was like a movie: the door opened, illuminating the inside of the bar, drawing everyone’s attention, and time stood still. Steve led the two men over, but your eyes were focused on the brunet’s. You saw a look of shock wash over his face as you stared at one another. You looked down at your lap, suddenly finding your nails much more interesting. As if on purpose, Sam slid in next to you as he got back from the bar, effectively trapping you in between him and Clint. Well… you could always crawl out from under the table if need be.

Steve approached the table first, a dazzling smile on his face. “Hey, guys! Sorry we’re late; had to finish training the newbies,” you glanced up at him and he gave a stunned look. “Holy shit! Sam move,” Sam chuckled and moved out of the way and Steve took his spot, wrapping his massive arms around you in a bear hug. He smelled like Irish Springs and the same Crew shampoo he’d been using since discovering it in high school. You let out a surprised laugh.

“Hi to you, too, Steve.” You patted his back with the limited arm movement you had.

He chuckled in your ear, “You’re lucky you aren’t standing up, or I’da picked you up.” You laughed and he pulled back, his hands on your biceps.

“Sam already did, so might as well.” Steve laughed.

“How you doin’, sunshine?” You chuckled at the nickname that came so easily from him.

“I’m good, Steve. I’m good.” Steve turned his head towards the bar and then looked back at you.

“Come with me. I wanna get a beer.” He didn’t give you much room to argue before he was pulling you out of the booth. He sat at one of the stools and patted the empty one next to him. “So… how ya really been?” You glanced at him as you sat. That asshole had always been too perceptive when you didn’t want him to be. You sighed softly.

“Steve… I really don’t think now is the time to talk about this. Let’s just get through the night and--”

“And what? As soon as it’s all over, you’ll run out of our lives like last time? Oh, wait. Not everyone, just me and Buck.” You shouldn’t be shocked by his anger, you had been anticipating it since you told Sharon you’d come to the wedding, but the sting it left wasn’t something you had imagined.

You stared down at the bar for a few beats before Steve let out a deep sigh, “Things have been shitty without you here, ya know? We’ve all missed you, Buck most of all…. Obviously.” Nick came over and Steve ordered some local beer you hadn’t heard of, and another drink for you.

“We all made choices that night, Steve.” He turned his head and you slowly met his eyes.

“You two need to talk. This has gone on for long enough. I don’t think you both have all sides of the story.” You rolled your eyes and scoffed, thanking Nick as he slid your drink to you.

“And you only have his,” you grabbed your drink and stood up, and headed towards the back exit. You went down the narrow hallway, past Nick’s office, and opened the black metal door, the cool spring air a welcomed greeting.

You sat on one of the milk crates stacked by a pallet of wood and sighed. You set your drink on the ground and leaned back against the wall, staring up at the dusk sky. It was stupid to think you could ever come back and have things be normal while you were here. Things were definitely not normal.

The door popped open and you glanced over, making eye contact with Bucky. He gave you a half grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he let the door fall shut, and moved to sit on the milk crate across from you. You forced yourself to go back to looking at the sky, even though you could feel his stare on you.

“Hey.” It had been years since you heard his voice, but it felt like just yesterday. 

“Hey.”

“So... Steve’s obnoxious, huh?” You looked at him and saw a small smirk on his face. Your own smirk formed and you huffed a laugh. 

“Yeah, just a bit.” Bucky chuckled and kicked out some of the rocks under his foot. You sat in silence, the sound of the AC thrumming softening the tension in the air.

“You look good, Y/N.” You finally took Bucky in. His hair was cut shorter, and he had a few days’ worth of stubble on his face, from the looks of it. He wore jeans and a grey shirt with a black jacket, and his arms looked like they were about ready to bust out of the material with one good flex. 

“You do, too, Bucky.… Even with short hair.” He chuckled and shifted on his feet, nervously running his fingers through his hair. You picked up your glass and rubbed your thumb over the rim, “How’s the firehouse?” His eyes flickered over your face.

“It’s good. Made lieutenant last fall.” Half of your mouth turned up in a grin. 

“That’s great, Bucky. I’m happy for you.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a small grin.

“Thanks. Steve’s captain, so he’s a bit of a hard ass most days, but somehow I manage.” You laughed softly. “So, Clint was saying you work w-with kids? H-How’s that goin’?” Of course he did. 

“I do. At an elementary school. The kids I work with are pretty great, so I can’t complain.” You slowly stood after what felt like an eternity of staring at one another, cradling your drink in your hands. Bucky straightened, standing up, and you noticed he kept clenching and unclenching his fists. A nervous tick he’d had since the sixth grade.

“We don’t--” “Can we--”

You both chuckled nervously, and you motioned for him to go first. He cleared his throat, “Uh, I was just gonna ask if could meet for lunch tomorrow? Maybe talk where there isn’t alcohol involved.” You gazed over his face.

“Okay,” you whispered. Bucky’s brows raised with surprise. 

“We can go to Peggy’s? She’ll be happy to see ya….” You grinned at how eager he sounded. “So, uh, what were you gonna say?”

You glanced down at your feet, “Oh…. I was gonna say we don’t have to talk here, but you beat me to it.” You looked up at him, chuckling. His face shifted slightly.

“You still can’t lie for shit….” Your grin fell slowly, and you looked back down at your feet. Bucky could always tell when you weren’t telling the truth. Even after all this time, it seems.

“I was gonna say that we don’t have to talk and be nice about it. It’s not like things got left on the best note.” He scoffed and you looked up at him, “Yes, James, I know I’m the reason for that, thank you.” He took a couple steps towards you, and it felt like you were going to drown in those eyes all over again.

“Then, let’s fight; get it out of our system.” You gave him a bewildered look and set the glass on the stack of pallets.

“Really? You wanna get into a screaming match outside the bar? Probably wouldn’t look too good for a firefighter to get cited for domestic disturbance, don’t ya think?”

“Don’t even wanna fight when I’m bringing it up…” He shook his head and scoffed humorlessly, “Of course ya don’t. You don’t wanna talk about it, or fight about it, but you’ve got no problems up and disappearing for four years without so much as a fucking heads up!” Bucky’s voice gradually got louder and louder.  

“That’s not just on me, Buck! You didn’t wanna talk either, and you just ignored the conversation until I told you I couldn’t do it anymore, and then--!”

“Do you have any idea how fucking miserable I was when you left?! Jesus… Steve and Sam had to drag me out of the house just so I wasn’t holed up in our home--”

“I was miserable before I left, but that never got brought up, did it? No, of course not. ‘Let’s just blame Y/N. She’s the bitch that left good ol’ Bucky Barnes high and dry for no reason at all. How could she do that to him!?’” You scoffed and threw your hands up, your palms coming back and slapping your thighs, “I was fucked up, too! It wasn’t like I actually wanted to leave, but we were kids, Buck! We didn’t know a goddamn thing about life.”

“We knew plenty! We--”

“No, we fucking didn’t! No, we fucking didn’t... Tell me, did you figure out I left, or did someone who actually cared hafta tell ya?” Bucky’s jaw clenched, his knuckles going white. You closed your eyes and breathed through your nose. The door popped open, and you both snapped your heads in the direction. Sam came out with a wary face.

“Uh, hey…Steve and Sharon want a group picture…?” You grabbed your drink.

“Great!” The sarcasm was palpable. Sam moved to the side and let you pass. You quickly gulped the drink and pointed to the empty glass and held it up for Nick as you walked past him at the bar. You discarded the glass on the table, “So, who’s takin’ the picture?”

“Well, let’s get one of just us girls first, then we’ll do the guys, then we’ll ask Nick if he can take the group one for us,” Sharon handed Steve her phone and grabbed you and pushed you into the booth so you sat in the middle between her and Nat. You squeezed together and smiled while Steve stood up and turned the phone sideways to get the picture.

“Alright, one, two, three,” Steve put the phone back down and started moving towards Sharon.

“Steve, take a few, and actually tell us when you’re taking it,” Steve put his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay….” He put the phone back up. “Everyone say ‘Cheese!’”

Bucky was going to hit something, and that something was going to be Sam Wilson if he didn’t wipe that look off his face.

“Buck, you--”

“For both of our sake’s, don’t.” Sam’s jaw ticked and Bucky brushed past him.

He’d known you were coming for only about 36 hours. Steve had been talking to Sharon on the phone and hadn’t noticed Bucky come into the kitchen. Bucky was refilling his mug when Steve asked if she knew where you were staying. Bucky’s knees almost folded under him, and since then, he’s been pestering his friends with information.

Sam and Steve had been the only ones who encouraged him to talk to you tonight. They even gave him pointers for how he should do it. 

The conversation he planned to have with Y/N had gone a lot smoother in his head on the drive over.

When you were all satisfied with the picture, the guys sat down, Sam and Bucky coming back over as you were standing up. As Sharon took a picture of the guys, you went over to Nick and picked up your drink and handed him a five.

“Can you take a group picture of us?” He gave a look. “I know… trust me, I know. But do it for Sharon. Think of how happy it'll make her.” He rolled his eye and you knew you had him. You always had a way of finding the cracks in Nick Fury’s heavily guarded heart, even if you those cracks were left there on purpose. He grumbled and came from behind the bar and walked with you back over to the table.

“Listen, you’re all lucky I’m such a generous person,” Nick deadpanned. You all laughed and Sharon handed him her phone, “Guys, in back, girls up front.” You let out a relieved sigh and sat down next to Nat. You just needed to smile and try to convince everyone you were happy. 

How hard could that be?

You were about four and a half drinks in and having a great time. Nat had snuck over to the jukebox shortly after pictures and selected a song that resulted in you and Sharon both gasping and joining Nat to dance. You were even able to get Clint and Sam on the floor for a song or two.

Song after song played, each one more upbeat than the last, and you danced with whoever was closest. You had to do whatever you could to avoid dealing with your problems. Obviously, it was the mature and adult way to handle the situation.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky watched from the table.

“You’re staring. It’s creepy.” Bucky side-eyed the redhead next to him.

“I’m not staring.” Nat raised her brows.

“Right…” Bucky ignored her and took a sip of beer. Every time Bucky tried to focus on whatever bad joke Clint was telling, his eyes somehow lingered to wherever you were. He missed the way his heart beat with you around. “Also, couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been nursing that beer for a while. It’s gotta be piss warm by now.”

It was. “It’s fine. I’m on call tonight, anyways.”

“No, you’re not, otherwise none of you would be drinking….” Nat moved closer to him, “Ya sure it doesn’t have to do with the girl over there that’s had a few too many?” Bucky clenched his jaw and finally turned to face Nat.

“Natasha…”

“James…”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

Nat shrugged, “Too bad.” Bucky rolled his eyes and turned forward just in time to watch you and Sharon spin into each other. He couldn’t hear you over the chorus of the song playing, but the crinkles by your eyes told him you were laughing. 

Nat squeezed his knee and leaned into him, “Don’t be afraid to show her how you’ve changed, too.” His eyes snapped to hers, and she just grinned. It was really fucking annoying how she could always read him.

Sam came over to you while you were trying to find a new song on the jukebox. His arm draped over your shoulders, “Hey, we’ve gotta head out. Fury wants to close up for the night.”

Your brows burrowed and you whined, “But, why…?” Sam chuckled and glanced at his watch before looking back at you.

“Because it’s almost one and we’ve gotta go?” Your brows stayed pinched. You didn’t realize how empty the bar had gotten. “Are you staying with Clint and Nat tonight?” You exhaled and shook your head.

“No, I’m staying at the hotel,” you spoke louder than really necessary in an empty bar.

Sam pinched his brows, “Really? Why aren’t you stayin’ with someone?”

“’Cause no one would want me to. I was an asshole, Sam, and you guys are too nice to me….” Sam helped you stagger over to a chair so you could sit.

“Oh, kid….” He looked over you and nodded his head just enough that you noticed. You turned to where he was looking and saw Bucky walk your direction.

“Hey, Buck-o!” He raised his brow.

“Hey….” Bucky glanced at Sam and they whispered things to each other. You stood up and Sam and Bucky both immediately reacted, “Y/N, you gotta sit down.”

“I'm fine!” You tried walking back to the table where your friends were, but the room kept spinning and your coordination betrayed you. A strong hand gripped your arm and held you upright.

“Up you go,” Bucky scooped you up like it was nothing for him.

“Hey! Put me down!” He didn’t respond, and simply walked over to the table.

“Sharon, can you grab her purse?”

“Yeah,” Sharon grabbed your purse from the table and put it on your lap. She gave you a warm smile, “Lady, you gotta stay with someone tonight. Who--?” You shook your head.

“No, I don’t! I’ll be fine! I’m not even that drunk!” She gave you a look. You didn’t even believe your lie.

Sharon glanced at Bucky, then back to you, “Y/N, that’s not true, and you know it,” her voice was gentle, but firm. She tucked your hair behind your ear and you felt Bucky’s fingers dig just a little deeper into your flesh, “You need to go home with someone. You’re too drunk to be alone. I’m worried you’ll hurt yourself if you don’t.” You snorted.

“Well, you’re a nurse, I’ll just call you if I sprain my ankle again.” Sharon ignored your comment and started to get Steve’s attention.

“I’ll take care of her; make sure she’s safe. I… I’ll text you guys tomorrow.” Sharon stared at Bucky.

“Is that a good idea?” Bucky had to fight back his desire to scoff. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?

“Yeah, I think so.” Sharon studied him before slowly relaxing.

“Don’t make me regret this, Barnes.” 

Bucky ignored her remark. He murmured goodbyes to those nearby and started walking out of the bar with you balanced in his arms.

“Bucky! Put me down, I weigh too much!” He let out a sigh.

“Babe, you gotta stop screaming, I’m right here.”

“I’m--” he looked at you, and you shrank into yourself, “sorry.” Maybe you were talking louder than you needed to. He sighed softly.

“You don’t weigh “too much”, Y/N. I’m gonna set you down, can you keep your arms around my neck so you don’t fall over?” You nodded and grabbed your purse as Bucky slowly started to set your feet back on the ground. He opened the door to a vehicle, “Be careful of your step. The lift’s still there.” You looked and realized it was Bucky’s truck that you were getting into. One whiff of the air freshener, and you were sixteen again, and driving all over kingdom come with Bucky. You slowly stepped up and plopped into the passenger seat. 

“Do you need help buckling up?” You shook your head and grabbed the seat belt and clicked it across your body. Bucky shut the door and you watched him walk around and get into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t help but notice the two silver and blue ribbons that were still braided together, hanging from the gear stick. He buckled up and turned the engine over.

“What about my car?”

“We’ll get it in the mornin’.” He looked at you, chewing on his cheek, “I was gonna go through drive thru, would you eat somethin’?” You gasped and grabbed his arm.

“French fries! Oh my god, can I get french fries!?” He glanced at your hand on his arm and before giving you a soft smile.

“Sure, babe.” You smiled and leaned back so you were resting against the door. You folded your arms and stared out the window as you drove. Bucky started talking, but you couldn’t hear him. You lolled your head towards him.

“What?”

“Why do you think no one would want you to stay with them?” He flicked his eyes over you quickly, like he didn’t want you to notice him looking at you. You sighed loudly.

“’Cause I left, and haven’t been a very good friend. ‘Cause I hurt you like you hurt me,” tears slid down your face freely. “I really didn’t wanna hurt you. Well… I kinda wanted to, but not as much as I did. Not really! I was just so scared, and hurt, and sad, and--”

He grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers before he brought the back of your hand to his mouth. Bucky knew you were too drunk to be having this serious of a conversation. He also knew sober Y/N wouldn’t be saying any of this right now, so it was probably a good idea to make you stop talking. 

He did, however, think it might be easier to get it all out there, so that when the time comes to have the real conversation, he’d have a better idea on how to do it.

“I know, Y/N… I know. I’m sorry for… everything. I was shitty to you, and I-I should’ve done more for you. I hate myself for not bringing you back home that night. For not being there for you like you needed,” he kissed the back of your hand tenderly, goose bumps rising in his wake. “I missed you, Y/N,” his voice was barely loud enough to hear over the thrum of the engine. He let out a deep sigh, “Let’s get some food, and go home, yeah?” You nodded and wiped away the tears with your other hand, too drunk to truly process what was being said.

 Bucky pulled up to the drive-thru speaker and rolled down his window.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

“Yeah, can--”

“I want hamburgers, too!” you shouted at Bucky. He untwined your hands and tried to cover your mouth without looking at you, but you quickly moved his hand away. “Don’t try to shut me up; I want hamburgers!”

“Okay! Jesus!” He whispered with wide eyes, trying his best to get you to stop screaming. “Sorry about that, can I have…” You could hear Bucky ordering the food, but all you could focus on was his hand that rested between you both.  Maybe if you laid yours down beside his, he wouldn’t notice, and would hold it again? Or, maybe--

“Will this complete your order?”

“Yeah.” You shifted in your seat, moving your eyes to the dash in front of you.

“Okay, we’ll have your total at the window,” Bucky slowly drove forward. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a twenty.

“I’ve got money.” You attempted to open your purse, but a big hand stopped you. You glanced at him.

“I got it,” he pulled up and the worker gave the total and Bucky handed them the money. They handed him back his change and he put it away before putting his wallet back in his jeans. They handed him the bag of food a few minutes later, “Thanks. Have a good night.” He set the food in the middle console and pulled back onto the street. You grabbed the bag and started looking for the fries. “Hey, wait until we’re home,” he tried reaching for the bag but you batted his hand away.

“I want some fries.”

“Y/N, just wait five minutes,” you pulled out three fries and popped them in your mouth, chewing happily. Bucky let out an annoyed sigh.

“You said I was the only one allowed to eat in your truck, so here I am… in your truck... eating,” you popped a few more in your mouth. You looked at him with a ‘gotcha’ look.

God, did Bucky miss you. “I guess I did say that…. Fine. A few more, then you gotta wait. You’ll just get upset when you don’t have any when we get home.” You laughed and pulled out a long one before you rolled the bag close and put it back on the console.

“Jokes on you, I’ll just steal yours.” Bucky grinned, but kept his eyes on the road. He’d gladly give you whatever you asked for, whether you knew that or not. 

You pulled onto the gravel road that you knew like the back of your hand. The lilac bush came into view and Bucky turned up the drive way, the headlights casting over the blue farmhouse. Bucky parked and grabbed the bag.

“Hold on, I’ll come help ya.” You unbuckled just as Bucky came around and opened the door. You grabbed your purse, and as you went to step out, your foot slipped out from the lift and Bucky grabbed you to stop you from falling on your ass. Your hands landed on his biceps and you slowly looked up at him with a bewildered face. “You okay?”

Concern. 

Genuine concern for the drunk girl almost falling out of the truck, was all you could hear in his voice. Both of his hands were around your waist, keeping you safe from falling. 

“You smell good.” He blinked and tilted his head slightly before slowly grinning.

“Thanks…. You smell good, too. Ya know, once you get past the tequila.” Your cheeks flushed and you chewed on your cheek. He chuckled, “C’mon. I’ll carry you, just to be safe.” You were sure he’d make up any excuse to carry you again, even if you weren’t drunk. He kept a hand on your waist and bent down to pick up the bag of food he dropped. He handed the bag to you, and before you could stop him, Bucky picked you up as he’d done in the bar. You held your purse and the bag of food in your lap with one hand and the other wrapped around Bucky’s neck for dear life. 

He walked up the few steps to the porch and maneuvered the door open. Once you were inside, he used his elbow to flip the light switch. The light grey couch and matching love seat you had picked out together were still here, and so was the leather recliner his parents had given you when you moved in. The walls had been painted navy blue since you left.

“So, you painted, huh?” His eyes flicked to yours as he sat you down in the recliner.

“I had a lot of time on my hands.” You hummed and opened the sack and started pulling the food out. Bucky continued to look at you. 

He wanted to tell you that you were right, that navy was better than the teal he had insisted on. But he didn’t. There were a million and one things he wanted to tell you, and paint choices were the least important. He exhaled and went into the kitchen. 

You heard the fridge open and set his food on the coffee table and tucked your feet up and opened a burger. “Here,” Bucky handed you a bottled water, “drink this.” You set the burger back in the wrapper and took the water from him. “Thanks,” you swallowed and twisted the bottle open, taking a small sip. You were thirstier than you realized and drank more as you watched Bucky sit down and open up the box with his food. He had his own water sitting on the coffee table. These positions used to be reversed years ago.

You looked around the room, taking it in. It seemed almost exactly like it did when you left… except not, at the same time. Just another reminder that time didn’t stop just because you left. You noticed a pink sweatshirt on one of the hooks by the door. “You got a girlfriend?” It wasn’t accusatory, you were genuinely just asking, your drunk brain blurting out your thoughts for you. Bucky choked on his food and quickly reached for the water and took big gulps.

“What?!” He coughed out. You pointed to the sweatshirt and he followed, “Oh, that’s Bec’s! She left it here the last time she was in town.”

“Oh, Becca! I miss her…! How is she?”

“She’s good. She’s comin’ home for the wedding, so you’ll see her next weekend.”

“Don’t let her kill me,” you spoke with a mouth full of food. Bucky raised a brow and picked his burger back up.

“I won’t let her, but she won’t want to. She’ll probably cry when she sees you.” 

You fell into an awkward silence, both of you trying to find a way to start a conversation. You were finishing your fries when Bucky cleared his throat, “So… uh, are, are you seein’ anyone?” Bucky hated himself as soon as he said it. What if you say yes? What if--

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’. You didn’t finish the other burger and offered it to him. He glanced at it and stared at it for a beat, debating on if he really needed another burger, before taking it. He’ll just eat a light breakfast. You put the leftover fries and wrappers into the bag and stood up. Bucky tensed like he was ready to catch you. “Relax. I’m just throwin’ this stuff away,” you picked up his wrappers and walked into the kitchen and pulled out the drawer that had the trash can. You stumbled back into the living room and could feel Bucky’s eyes on you. 

“Uh, I’ve got some clothes you can wear so you don’t have to sleep in jeans and…” He moved his finger around, pointing at you, his cheeks getting redder. You glanced down and realized you had more skin showing than you intended. Your cheeks got hot and you adjusted your top and nodded.

“You could’ve just taken me to the hotel, ya know? I would’ve been fine.”

“You’re too drunk to go to a room by yourself. Somethin’ coulda happened.” You rolled your eyes, but didn’t say anything. You rested your head on the back of the recliner and slowly felt yourself start to drift to sleep. You felt an arm go under your knees.

“Bucky, stop carrying me. I can walk,” you rolled your head and looked at him.

“You think you can handle stairs?” You stared at him, narrowing your eyes.

“Yes.” He snorted.

“Well, then let’s go, toots,” you rolled your eyes and scoffed as you pushed yourself up.

“Call me ‘toots’ again and I’ll deck ya.” Bucky chuckled and walked behind as you went upstairs. He guided you to a room and flipped on the light. He walked you to the bed and had you sit, and you watched him go to the closet and grab a white v-neck and grey sweatpants and set them beside you.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch. Do you need anything?” You blinked and slowly shook your head as you looked at him. “Alright. Well, if you do, holler. Uh, I’ll let you change. Goodnight.” He walked out and shut the door swiftly. Bucky stood in front of the door as he collected his breaths. He steadied himself and went downstairs to finish eating and try and get a grip.

You looked around the room as you toed off your shoes. The Ikea dresser you picked out sat in the corner still, along with the mirror hung above it that you just had to have. Bucky wasn’t surprised when you came home with it; he’d long accepted your need to decorate with second-hand items. He was, however, surprised when you didn’t get the groceries you had told him you were getting. The whole purpose for going into town in the first place. You told him you were just too excited to show him the mirror. He just laughed and told you to get into the truck, and you went to the store together.

You stood up and touched your fingertips to the small hardened pink nail polish stain on the white comforter. You remembered being so mad at yourself when it happened. You changed into the white t-shirt of Bucky’s and pulled back the covers. You turned off the lights and sank into bed, softly inhaling Bucky’s scent that clung to the sheets.

Bucky finished eating and cleaned up. Maybe he should go check on you and leave some water for when you wake up. He grabbed a glass and filled it from the tap. He walked upstairs and lightly tapped on the door.

“Y/N?” He waited for a response, but when he didn’t hear anything he opened the door. 

You were laying on his side, hugging his pillow with your face buried in it. Half of his mouth tugged up in a grin when he heard your soft snores. He used the hallway light to see and set the glass down on the nightstand. He went into the adjoining bathroom and grabbed two blue pills for the hangover you’d absolutely have when you woke up. Then he took one last look before heading back downstairs, turning off the lights as he came down. 

Bucky sent Sharon a text that you were asleep in bed, and that there was nothing for her to regret. You could have gotten a hangnail and Sharon would have found a way to blame Bucky. 

He kicked off his shoes and grabbed the fleece blanket off the back of the couch and laid down. His mind was racing as he stared up at the ceiling.

How are you gonna get her back, Bucky?

How are you gonna not fuck this up?

How?

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Masterlist  // Next

[something-tofightfor]

SO WHAT YOU DID IT WITH RYAN BRENNER

… this isn’t even a drabble anymore, it’s basically a one-shot. ** NL/JaP universe - AFTER they leave Charleston.**

Turns out I miss Ryan. Who would have thought? 

Word Count: 3,291

He felt everything - the warmth of the lights, the energy from the crowd in front of him, the gentle vibration of the guitar that he held on his lap as he strummed it - but at the same time, Ryan felt nothing. Shouldn’t be like this. Ryan took a deep breath and continued singing, his eyes opening as he scanned the crowd, taking everything in. I shouldn’t… Shaking his head slightly, Ryan focused back on the music, leaning in closer to the microphone and feeling his lip curl as he pulled the words from deep within his chest. The song ended, notes fading away, and Ryan paused, catching his breath and reaching for the bottle of water on the small table next to him. 

 “Thank you.” He cleared his throat after swallowing, gripping the neck of the instrument with one hand and running his fingers through his hair with the other. “Got one more for you, and then I’m gonna take a break.” He heard someone whistle and cracked a smile, nodding. “Then I’ll be back for the second half of my set.”  He looked over the crowd again, catching the eye of a young woman that was grinning at him, arms crossed on the table she sat at, body leaning forward as if she was trying to get closer to him without leaving her seat. He was in Arizona, and because it was the beginning of summer, it was hot - meaning that she (and the other patrons in the bar) were dressed for the weather. She doesn’t even know me. “I uh…” He frowned and looked down at the guitar - yours - allowing himself a small smile. “I wrote this one last winter.” He strummed once, nodding. “Wrote it for my girl… even though she wasn’t really mine at  the time, and I didn’t know how…” Ryan shook his head. They don’t care. “Anyway. It’s one of my favorites.” He sat up, cocking his head to the side and closing his eyes, fingers starting to move. I miss you. 

 — 

 Between his sets, Ryan made sure to secure the guitar safely in its case, tucking it in the break room before he stepped back into the crowd, mingling. He had nearly 45 minutes before he was supposed to play again, and though he was more than happy to talk with the people that were there to watch him, Ryan desperately wanted some time alone to think. I need to… He pulled his phone out of his pocket while he waited for the bartender to get him a beer, thumbing away alerts and gritted his teeth as he saw that you hadn’t messaged him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look, unsurprised to see that it was the woman from the table, her long, dark hair falling down her back and bright blue eyes shining, even in the low light of the bar area. “Buy you a drink, Ryan?” She licked her lips, nodding at the beer that the bartender had just set on the counter. “Next one, I mean?”

 Ryan picked up the glass, condensation dampening his fingers slightly as they curled around the smooth surface. “I’m actually covered here.” He took a long drink, swallowing as he thought. “I drink for free on the nights I play.” She laughed, and Ryan smiled at the sound, though he felt himself holding back a wince. It doesn’t even sound… 

 “Well then maybe when you’re done, I can get you a drink from somewhere else.” She leaned in, pressing her lips together after signaling to the bartender that she wanted a new drink, too. “You mentioned a girl, but it doesn’t look like she’s here.” Ryan felt himself inhale sharply, his grip on the drink tightening. “I-”

 “‘Preciate it.” Ryan straightened up, shaking his head. “But you’re right. She’s not here, and it wouldn’t feel right if I let you do that.” He shrugged, watching as annoyance flashed in the woman’s eyes. “Thank you for comin’ out to see me, though.” He smiled - a genuine one - and watched the woman’s eyes widen again. “I’ll be here a couple more nights before I head out, and move on…” 

 “Well.” The woman held up her own glass, bringing the small straw up to her lips. “Ryan Brenner, whoever your girl is is a lucky woman.” Is she? “Not many men would be faithful when you’re…” She gestured to him with one hand, eyes roaming his body. “Well, you.” He laughed quietly, nodding. “Worth a shot right?” Ryan agreed and without saying anything else, he turned away from the bar and headed for the back patio exit, settling down on a low brick wall as he looked out over the desert, lights extending a few miles out and then stopping, disappearing almost completely into the darkness. Though he’d been in Arizona for weeks already, he’d only been in Phoenix for a few days, and was still getting used to the area. He’d landed in Tucson, carrying nothing but your guitar and his backpack, filled with the essentials - and had made the most of his time, scouting out open mic nights and bars looking for gigs. He’d made decent money playing, and had attracted nearly 100 new Instagram followers in the short time he’d been away from Olathe - and from you - but he didn’t know why he still felt empty. It shouldn’t feel like this. 

 Ryan took a long drink of his beer, savoring the taste, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes that he’d bought nearly a week prior - his first in months - and lit one, taking a long drag from it as he continued to look out and into the darkness, thinking. Should I call? But as he sat and smoked, Ryan’s mind wandered, phone staying tucked into his pocket. No. 

 — 

 The two of you had settled into the house in Olathe in the last week of March, most of your things staying in storage so that you could focus on the restoration of the house without anything in your way. He’d chosen it based on the pictures that he found on the Internet, talking things over with David and the realtor before he’d even brought it up to you - but you’d agreed almost immediately, pointing out that there was a lot you could do with the kitchen and some paint, that you were looking forward to staining and sanding the wooden floors… and Ryan had known that it was the right decision. 

 You’d paid for the house out of pocket without batting an eye, signing the necessary paperwork via faxes and emails, and by the time Ryan and David had finished with the second flip in the second week of March, you’d already packed up most of your Charleston house, ready to go. Both men had been surprised at how easily they’d been able to finish working on the houses, the second one being purchased on January 19th - before the first had even sold, though it had taken only six and a half weeks to finish in total. Inspired by the success of the first flip, Lauren, Ryan and David - plus the other crew members - had turned the second out out in almost record time, too. It hadn’t sold before you two had left South Carolina, but the day that the check had been wired to him in the middle of April, Ryan had signed the majority of it over to you - paying you back for the money you’d already invested in Olathe. 

 For a few weeks, the two of you had worked in tandem, Ryan focusing much of his time on getting things prepped and ready to go. He didn’t have the luxury of a team like he’d had with David, but the house didn’t need a ton of work, and so he’d been confident that even if it took him a little bit of time, he’d get things done to his satisfaction. By the beginning of May, you were focused on the final details of your show, and Ryan had hit a wall with renovations - tile and fixtures were on backorder, and there was little the two of you could do but wait and try to get other, less important projects done. He’d been too frustrated to write, too tired to record and had only played out a few times since you’d moved, and Ryan felt off. You’d noticed, though, and on a Saturday afternoon - the sun bright in the sky - you’d pulled him out onto the front steps of the house, holding his hand tightly as you spoke. 

 “Ryan.” You took a deep breath, turning to face him without letting go of his hand. “You…” He frowned, waiting. “Do you feel… stuck?” He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “You’ve been different since we came here.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you reached over with your free hand, pressing a finger to his lips. “Let me talk, ok?” And he had, listening to you tell him what you’d noticed, what you saw, how being around him felt to you - like every second you were waiting for him to tell you that he was leaving because he needed a break. 

 “But I don’t.” He shook his head, tightening his grip on your hand. “I’m happy, I want to -”

 “You aren’t, Ryan.” You offered a smile, shaking your head. “When you play, it’s all sad. You haven’t recorded in days, you haven’t… “ You gestured toward the house. “You wanted this, but you wanted more than this, too.” Shifting closer, you reached over to take his other hand. “I don’t want you to regret this.” Regret what? “You need to go, Ryan.” His jaw dropped, head moving back and forth. “Just for a little while, go and pick somewhere, and take your guitar.” You looked down, staring at your feet. “It’s been almost a year, Ryan, and we haven’t been apart for more than a few days at a time, and I know that you …”

 “You know that I what?” He’d ducked his head down, pulling his hand from yours and using his fingers to tilt your chin up. “I don’t need to travel, to be…” But even as he spoke, Ryan felt a lightness in his chest, the idea taking hold. Maybe I do… maybe I need some time, maybe I need… 

 Over the next few days, he’d looked into different destinations, choosing to go west again, knowing that it would be warm and sunny, that there would likely be people he knew out that way - and when he’d told you that he picked Arizona, you’d nodded, turning away from your computer to look up at him. “Take as long as you need, Ryan.” He’d seen in your eyes that you were preparing for the worst, that you expected him to find something during the trip that he didn’t have by staying in one place, and yet you were still encouraging him to go. “I don’t want you to resent me, Ry.” Standing, you’d hugged him tightly, face buried in his chest. Resent you? How? “Just promise me one thing.” You’d pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes and after a pause, continued. “No hitchhiking.” 

 — 

Being back out on the road was therapeutic for Ryan, and as he stubbed out the cigarette on the brick next to him, he sighed deeply. You’d been right - something had been off for him in the weeks leading up to his departure, you dropping him off at the airport and wishing him luck, telling him you’d see him soon - but as Ryan moved from gig to gig, taking a bus between cities instead of finding a ride, he was no closer to figuring out what it was. Is it her? Do I feel this way because I’m so… or is it because I’m so far from what I thought my life would be like? Ryan didn’t know, but what he did know was that playing music was making him feel more like himself, even if there was still a hollow in his chest. 

 You weren’t avoiding each other; you weren’t fighting, and there wasn’t any reason that you hadn’t been in close contact, but it seemed that you were truly giving him a chance to figure things out. He’d only spoken to you on the phone a handful of times in the weeks he’d been gone, choosing to send you messages and pictures instead, and you hadn’t pushed for things to change, but it still relieved him each time you liked one of his pictures or the dots that let him know you were typing a response appeared on his screen. He didn’t know what he was waiting for when it came to you - and no amount of staring at the ceilings of his motel rooms seemed to help. “Holy shit.” 

 Ryan paused with the beer glass at his lips, eyes widening as he turned his head toward the voice, eyes landing on the man that had spoken. “Georgie?” Blinking a few times, the smaller man stepped forward, head tilted to the side. “What are you doin’ here?” 

 “Ryan goddamn Brenner.” Georgie’s eyes swept the patio and then returned to Ryan, a smile on his lips. “It’s good to see you, it’s been -” 

 “Almost a year.” He stood, hesitantly reaching out to shake the man’s hand, and Georgie swatted Ryan’s hand away, instead pulling him in for a tight hug that Ryan returned after a few seconds of hesitation. “Georgie, I -” 

 “It’s good to see you, Ryan.” Georgie stepped back, the smile growing. “I heard you were in town, and so I checked your page and then hauled ass to get here from El Paso.” He rubbed the side of his face. “Woulda called but I didn’t know if you’d answer, and…” Georgie shrugged. “Figured you woulda had her with you here, and…” Georgie’s eyes widened again. “But she’s not here, and you are, and you’ve been in Arizona for weeks, so…” Georgie licked his lips. “I knew you’d get tired of it, need to come back out on the road. Knew you’d need to be y-”

 “Georgie.” His tone sharper than he’d hoped it would be, Ryan closed his eyes. “I’m here because I …” Why are you here, Ryan? “Look.” Ryan swallowed, taking a breath. “You were really shitty to her in New York.” Georgie stared, a confused look on his face. “And I get it, but it was still bullshit, man.” Ryan thought of the look on your face in the park, the easy way you’d brushed things off and walked away, head held high. “I love her.” He swallowed, voice growing stronger. “And I shouldn’t have to pick between the two of you, so I won’t.” 

 “But you’re -” No. 

 “I’m here now because I’m takin’ a break on the house we’re flippin’, and she suggested I go back out on the road.” Georgie mouthed the word ‘flipping’, eyes locked on Ryan’s. “Yeah, we bought a house to flip after we moved outta the one in Charleston, and we’re in Kansas now, prob’ly stay there for a while and then move again.” Ryan’s heart thumped in his chest. This is what I want. 

 “So… what, you did it?” Georgie pressed his lips together. “You… put down roots?” Ryan shook his head. No. No, we didn’t. I didn’t. Not… 

 “No. We’re flippin’ a house, and then we’ll move into the next once that one sells, and…” Ryan shrugged. “It’s steady work, and I get to do things like this, and she…” He sucked in a breath. Holy shit. That’s… “Look, Georgie.” Ryan’s heart was pounding, his hand itching to reach into his pocket. “We gotta long way to go if we’re gonna be friends again, but…” Ryan took a deep breath. “It’d be real nice to play with you again tonight, if you’ve got…” As Ryan spoke, Georgie turned slightly, using one hand to lift the strap of the backpack he wore. “Good.” Ryan pulled his phone out, pressing the button to light the screen up. “My second set starts in fifteen, so if you want…” Georgie nodded eagerly, squeezing his eyes shut. 

 “Yeah.” He paused. “That… I’d like that, Ryan.” Ryan tightened his hold on his phone, waiting. “Lemme go and make sure it’s…” Georgie kept talking and Ryan nodded, watching as the man turned and walked off of the patio and into the parking lot, where it was quieter. Plenty of time. When the man was out of sight, Ryan sat back down, scrolling through his phone until he found your contact information, pressing the call button. Please answer. 

 It rang twice and then you picked up, voice sleepy in his ear. “Hello?” Ryan felt his breath catch. Why was I even worried? He paused before he answered, deciding not to tell you the full reason that he was calling over the phone - opting to wait until he saw you in person. It’s the right call. “Ry?” You sighed. “You there? Did you mean -”

 “I love you.” He swallowed, the words coming out in a rush. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to… I know what …” He sighed. “Look.” You laughed quietly, but didn’t say anything else. “When do you have to be in San Francisco? I can’t remember what day you said you were flying out.” 

 “Middle of next week, Ryan, I’m leaving on Tuesday, I have to be there the 30th of May to start setting up and mounting frames, so I’m going a few days early.” He closed his eyes, thinking. We found each other on the 30th, I have to… “I’ll only be there until the 3rd, the opening is the second, and I wanted to come back here and start-��

 “I’m not coming home.” He licked his lips, shaking his head as he opened his eyes. “I-”

 “Oh.” It was only one word, but he heard the understanding in your voice. “Alright, I…” You paused. “I didn’t…”

 “I’ll meet you in San Francisco instead, if that’s OK.” He took a deep breath. “It’s stupid for me to fly back east and then immediately west, I’m closer to California out here.” He waited, but you didn’t respond, so he continued. “Just… bring some of my clothes with you, yeah? Somethin’ nice for me to wear to the gallery?” 

 “You’re..” He heard your voice trembling. “You’re not staying there? You want to…” He felt his chest get tight as you fought to get the words out. She thought I was going to abandon her…after all this, she thought… “It’s been weeks, Ryan, I thought you…” 

 “I wouldn’t miss it.” He sighed. “We have a lot to talk about, but…” Ryan pulled his phone away from his ear, checking the time. Shit. “God, I can’t wait to see you. It’s been too long.” 

 “Talk about?” You still sounded worried, but Ryan only laughed, shaking his head and feeling better than he had in weeks. 

 “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “But don’t worry, I promise you’ll…” He licked his lips, tasting the dry air. “You’ll like what I’m gonna say.” Georgie stepped back onto he patio, fiddle in hand and Ryan swore. “I gotta go, though, my second set is startin’… and I’ve… got a guest.” You asked who, and as Ryan stood, picking up his beer glass, he continued. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so… “ Ryan grinned. “Watch my Instagram in a few minutes.” Sounding confused, you agreed. “I gotta go, though. I love you.” 

 “Love you too, Ry.” You paused. “I miss you.” He nodded though you couldn’t see him, his eyes moving over the crowd that had gathered back near the stage. Gotta find someone to hold my phone. 

 “Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Yeah, I miss you, too.” 

—

[cycwrites]

Switching Gears Part 3 - Karaoke Innuendos

Words: 4250

Rating: M (Eventually. I think.)

Also on AO3 and FFN

Tumblr Master Post

As always, thanks to @tiny-maus-boots for all the Beta’ing and support. I literally could do none of this without you.

Special thanks to @zentamaus & @isthemusictoblame for putting up with my random bouts of insecurity in the middle of the night.

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

~A~

Aubrey pushed her bike through the door to Beca’s shop, grumbling to herself.

“Chain or bell?”

The amusement in Beca’s voice was clear and Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I could just be coming to say hello.”

“True.” Beca nodded from where she was leaning against the counter in the back. “But you look pissed and it’s been over two weeks since you needed a chain – so my guess is bell.” She made a show of peering at Aubrey’s handlebars as she got close and nodded. “Looks like I’d be right.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Aubrey parked the bike beside the counter and huffed out a breath as she took off her helmet and hung it from a handle. “Fine. Bell.”

“I’m going to start ordering them in bulk at this rate.” Beca pushed herself up on the counter and pulled up her legs to swing around and land behind it. She rummaged on a shelf for a second before pulling out a new bell and setting it between them. “Or you could just… stop replacing it?”

“And let her win?” Aubrey snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“And what… exactly… would she be winning?” Beca leaned her elbow on the counter and propped her chin on her hand. “Is there a prize?”

“The war, Beca.” Aubrey shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh I understand,” Beca said as she straightened up again. “I understand you’re both insane and I haven’t even met the other woman.” Beca frowned and Aubrey returned it reflexively. “Have you even laid eyes on her since that first day?”

“No.” Aubrey dug her thin card holder from its place in her bra. “But I don’t need to. She keeps parking in my spot.”

“You’re hopeless.” Beca pushed away the debit card Aubrey tried to hand her. “And while the businesswoman in me says to take your money, your friend can’t do it anymore.” She grabbed the bell and walked around it to Aubrey’s bike. “Except the chain and lock. If you insist on throwing the nice ones away, I’m going to charge you for it.” She stripped the bell of its packaging as she walked. “I should order you some cheap pieces of crap I wouldn’t normally sully my shelves with so you can stop losing your main.”

Aubrey watched as Beca quickly affixed the bell in just the right spot. “Thanks, Beca.” She knew it was silly and probably (definitely) childish – and let’s not forget petty – but the fact that the woman kept parking in her spot triggered Aubrey in a way she couldn’t explain.

“You’ll just have to buy me an extra drink at karaoke.” Beca gave the bell a ring and winced. “I still have no idea why you like this thing.”

“My dad got me one as a kid.” Aubrey shrugged. “When I finally rode it without the training wheels, he put it on so I could warn people.” She smiled at the memory. “I may have almost run over the neighbor’s yappy dog once because I was a speed demon.”

“Alright, I can get behind nostalgia and that explains spin class.” Beca frowned as she looked around the shop. “Is Lilly even in today?” Before Aubrey could answer Beca shrugged. “Eh, I’m the owner; I can close a little early if I want to.” She looked at Aubrey. “Can you turn off the open sign and lock the door while I count down the register and lock away the moolah?”

“No one but mobsters say moolah, Beca.” Aubrey laughed as she walked toward the front of the room.

“Oh yeah? Know a lot of mobsters, do you?” Beca said as she popped open the cash drawer. “Is there a secret life of yours I don’t know about?”

“Maybe.” Aubrey turned off the sign and double checked that no one was walking up before she locked the door. Beca snorted behind her. “You don’t know. Besides, I would rock a three piece suit.” She walked back toward Beca who had paused, eyeing her.

“I was going to make a sarcastic comment but sheer honesty forces me to admit you would in fact rock a three piece suit.” Beca’s head tilted to the side. “Would that make me your driver?”

“Thank you.” Aubrey said crisply then grinned. “Probably my right hand gal.” Aubrey leaned on the counter. “Jack of all trades type.”

“I dig it.” Beca grabbed a calculator and a notepad. “You need a moll.”

“I do?” Aubrey considered. “I suppose every good mobster should a pretty woman with brains on their arm.” One brow arched. “Are you volunteering?”

“Please. I’m much better as your jack of all trades.” Beca shook her head. “I was more thinking Chloe.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I should’ve seen that coming. I’ve told you, that ship has sailed.”

“Then the only other woman I’ve seen you get remotely flustered over is the enemy.” Beca began to count the money in her till. “Now shut up and don’t start saying numbers like you did last time.”

“Me?” Aubrey blinked innocently. “I would never. Also, there’s no way the bell thief could be my girl.”

“Mmhmm. Seems to me a thief would be a perfect girl for a mobster.” Beca said, writing down totals. “But whatever you say, Aubrey. I might even believe you if you didn’t get red cheeked whenever you talk about her.”

Aubrey gasped. “I do not!” She rubbed at her cheeks before she realized what she was doing. “That’s anger, Beca. Not… whatever you’re implying.”

Beca looked at Aubrey out of the corner of her eye. “You do realize that every denial you give me only makes me think I’m right and you’ve got a serious crush on your nemesis despite only seeing her the one time.”

“Then you’re clearly deluded.” Aubrey pushed off the counter and walked down one of the aisles.

“Clearly,” Beca muttered behind her. “Now stop distracting me.”

“Then stop baiting me.” Aubrey shot back.

They spent the next ten minutes in companionable silence as Beca checked her numbers twice before finally putting the money in a lockable pouch which then went in her safe.  Aubrey wheeled her bike to the front of the store and waited.

“Alright.” Beca turned off the lights. “Time to go.” She waved Aubrey out the door before setting her security system. “No peeking.”

“Like I couldn’t figure out your code if I really wanted to.” Aubrey pulled on her helmet.

Beca locked the door behind her. “Alright, let’s go channel some of that anger elsewhere and go get you hopped up on your Ladies of the 80’s.”

“I’ll have you know I also enjoy songs from the 90’s.” Aubrey swung her leg over her bike.

“That’s still nothing from this century.” Beca said, pulling on her own helmet.

“Shut up and get on the package carrier, hobbit. Or do you need me to lift you up?” Aubrey said dryly.

“You’re going to pay for that, Posen.” Beca climbed onto the back of Aubrey’s bike and gripped her waist. “Just you wait.”

“My father is military, Beca. I’ll always see you comin’.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Beca patted her hip. “Now mush!”

“Did you just call me a bitch?” Aubrey said as she began to pedal down the sidewalk with Beca’s laughter filling the early evening air behind them.

The ride to the L&L was relatively short, only a mile and a half away from Beca’s shop. Lyrics & Libations was a karaoke bar owned by two of Beca’s friends who had, eventually, adopted Aubrey as one of their own. Beca had dragged her in the second she found out Aubrey could sing and the two of them had a standing table reservation every Friday night.

Once Aubrey had stopped her bike, Beca hopped off the back and took off her helmet. She ran her hand through her hair. “I hate these things.”

“Helmet hair is a small price to pay for keeping your brains inside your skull, Beca.” Aubrey walked over to an afterthought bike rack that had been added to the sidewalk and secured her bike to it. Though it was big enough for three bikes, Aubrey had never seen anyone else use it.

“It’s not just that. It makes my head sweaty.” Beca preceded her to the door and opened it. “Especially on warm days like today.”

“Thank you,” Aubrey said, taking off her own helmet as she walked into the L&L. Beca had a point, the cool air conditioning felt good after all the pedaling. “Hello Cynthia Rose.” She hugged the beautiful black woman lounging on the stool by the door. “Had to throw anyone out today?”

The deceptively short bouncer laughed. “Not today but the night’s still young, Aubrey!” She looked past her to Beca. “Shorty.” She held out her hand.

“CR.” Beca eyed it. “You’re not seriously trying to card us, are you?”

“Please. I know better. Even if you still look fifteen.” Cynthia Rose rolled her eyes. “Gimme five.”

“Dollars?” Beca grinned at her. “Since when did you start charging covers on non-band nights?”

“Oh.” Cynthia Rose dropped her hand. “I see. We only charge those that are trying to be a smart ass.”  She clicked her tongue. “So you’re probably going to be poor before too long.”

“Don’t push her, Beca.” Aubrey moved to stand next to Cynthia Rose. “She’ll chuck you out like she did that college guy last month.” He hadn’t believed someone as short as Cynthia Rose could subdue him physically much less toss him out on his ass. Until said ass had hit the pavement and the door had closed behind him.

“Alright alright.” Beca held up her hand. “I’m sorry.” She held up her fist. “Hit me.”

“I oughta hit you.” Cynthia Rose muttered but gave Beca a fist bump. “You guys are early tonight.”

“I didn’t feel like working till closing.” Beca shrugged. “Don’t think Lilly was in to close, so I just locked up.”

“’You don’t think’?” Cynthia Rose snorted. “What if you locked her in there?”

“She’s got a key and the code.” Beca shrugged. “Come find us on your break, we’ll buy you a shot or two.”

“Deal.” Cynthia Rose looked toward the door as it creaked behind them. “Now get your ass out of my doorway so I can greet these nice folks behind you.” She winked at Aubrey. “See you in a bit, Posen.”

“Look forward to it.” Aubrey smiled at her and pushed Beca ahead of her into the main room. “You want me to get the first round?”

Beca shook her head. “Nah, I’m going to take advantage of the round you owe me when you’re too drunk to realize I’m ordering the good stuff.” Holding out her hand, she continued. “Gimme your helmet and I’ll have the girls stow them for us.”

“Thanks, Beca.” Aubrey handed it over with a smile. Making her way to the table at the right corner of the stage, Aubrey took the seat that put her back to the wall. Shrugging off her small backpack she dug around in it until she found her brush. Taking out the hair tie holding her long hair into a loose ponytail she ran the brush through it.

“Grooming?”

Aubrey ignored Beca and continued getting out the tangles that her helmet had caused. “You know you want to use it.”

“Maybe.” Beca set down a small tray that held two glasses of water and two bottles of beer. “I’ll be back, Jess made me promise to bring the tray right back.”

Setting the brush on the table, Aubrey picked up one of the bottles. “Okay.” She took a drink. “I’ll be here.” She waited until Beca had turned around and started back toward the bar. “Drinking your beer.”

“Woman…” Beca threatened. “Don’t you dare.”

“Better hurry.” Aubrey settled back in her seat with a grin, already trying to decide what they were going to sing tonight. She eyed the room, nodding at some regulars.

“Your turn.” Beca said, dropping into the seat to her left. “I’ve already got your first song down.”

“That was quick.” Aubrey eyed the two new bottles of beer that had appeared on the table. “You really thought I’d drink yours?”

“Yes.” Beca said, carefully pulling two of the bottles in front of her. “Like you haven’t before.” She picked up Aubrey’s brush and ran it through her hair.

“True.” Aubrey shrugged and stood. “I’ll be back.”

Taking the first bottle with her, Aubrey made her way to the end of the bar, patiently waiting as other people put down song choices.

“Hey Aubrey!” The brunette in charge of the song list smiled at her. “Beca giving you any of those beers?”

“Hello Ashley.” Aubrey held up her bottle. “At least one of them.” She stepped up to the bar and opened the giant binder of songs. “Am I going to like what she picked for me?”

“Maybe?” Ashley shrugged and grinned at her. “You know I can’t tell you.” In fact the top half of the paper had been hastily covered with a napkin so that Aubrey couldn’t see what had been written down.

“True.” Aubrey took a drink of her beer and pursed her lips. “Guess I’ll have to get her from the start.”

“That’s my girl.” Ashley held out the pen. “Can’t give that one an inch.”

“Bree!”

Taking the pen, Aubrey looked up as a blonde head appeared over Ashley’s shoulder. “Hi Jessica. Looks like they’re keeping you busy over there.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Jessica rested her chin on Ashley’s shoulder. “Denise will be here soon.”

Aubrey wrote Beca’s name on the sheet sitting on the bar, followed by her song. “You guys still on for the group song later?”

“Are you kidding?” Ashley laughed. “Jess has been practicing all week.” She kissed the side of her girlfriend’s head. “Now go pour those nice people some drinks and make mama some money.”

“Yes dear,” Jessica waved at Aubrey. “I’ll come say hi in a bit.” She went back to the other end of the bar, already greeting the people waiting for her.

“See you.” Aubrey called after her. “Thanks, Ash.” She pushed the paper back across the bar.

Ashley looked at the song and laughed. “No no, thank you.”

“You know she secretly loves it.” Aubrey said as she turned.

“You look too pleased with yourself.” Beca said as Aubrey sat back down.

“Just said hi to the girls.” Aubrey went to take another drink and found the bottle empty. “Oops. Guess I should’ve left that up there.” She set it down and picked up the other. “Thanks for thinking ahead.”

“You’ve been looking… thirsty lately.” Beca said.

“Oh for the love of…” Aubrey shook her head. “I am not thirsty Beca.”

“Mmm. Sure.” Beca laughed and ducked the napkin Aubrey threw at her.

“You are the worst,” she groaned.

“You mean the best.” Beca said airily. “Now hush, things are starting.”

Laughing, Aubrey settled down and watched the first person take the stage.

As former college championship winning a capella singers, Jessica and Ashley seemed to attract a higher level of karaoke aficionados to the L&L. Rarely did you get someone who was off-key – at least not intentionally. Aubrey herself wasn’t above singing something badly for effect. But tonight everyone was on point and she was enjoying herself so much she’d almost forgotten that she’d be going up soon.

“Aubrey, you’re up.”

She looked up, startled as Ashley called her name. “Oh, right.”

“Have fun,” Beca said as Aubrey stood up.

“Should I be afraid?” Aubrey stepped up on the stage and took the microphone off the stand.

“Always, Bree.” Beca nodded. “Always.”

Aubrey narrowed her eyes then looked at the monitor as the opening notes of ‘Call Me Maybe’ started. She allowed herself one moment of annoyance, because while she did like the song she knew why Beca was making her sing it. But she was Aubrey Posen and she never backed away from anything in her life. She would sell the shit out of this. By the end of it the room was singing along with her and Aubrey waved after she put the mic back on the stand. She went back to her table and took her seat.

“Nicely done, Posen.” Beca held out a fresh beer.

“Thank you.” Aubrey took it and took a long drink. “I think I sense a theme for the night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Beca took a drink of her own.

Instead of answering, Aubrey merely turned back to the stage as the next person stepped up. Even as she clapped and sang with the next songs, she was busily trying to figure out how to get even.

When Beca saw the song Aubrey had picked, she groaned. “Not this song, Bree. It’s so overplayed.”

“Shut up and sing, Mitchell.” Aubrey grinned.

Beca put on her Resting Bitch Face and her whiniest voice for the start of ‘TiK ToK’ but by the chorus she’d given in and was bouncing around the stage to the cheers of the crowd. When she’d finally taken her chair again Aubrey pushed her shoulder.

“You’re no longer allowed to tell me you hate Kesha. I know it’s a lie and so does everyone else who saw you just now.”

“Yeah yeah.” Beca took a drink of her beer as she tried to catch her breath.

The rest of the night continued in much the same pattern.

Beca made Aubrey sing Avril Lavigne’s ‘Girlfriend’ and Sophie B. Hawkins’ ‘Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover’ while Aubrey had made her sing Meredith Brook’s ‘Bitch’ and ‘When I Grow Up’ by Garbage. Not that either of those songs were ones that Beca wouldn’t enjoy but at this point Aubrey was just trying to use the titles to make a point – no matter how obscure. There was a brief truce as they sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with Jessica and Ashley, almost causing a riot when they bowed out of doing an encore.

Aubrey debated on the last song, but there just weren’t enough casual-insults-between-friends songs that she felt were appropriate. She’d been looking through P!nk’s song list, discarding ‘Trouble’, though appropriate, and ‘Blow Me (One Last Kiss)’ before deciding to just pick a fun song to end the night on: ‘Raise Your Glass.’

Beca, however, had other ideas.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Aubrey laughed as ‘I Touch Myself’ by the Divinyls started.

“Hey, it’s from the ‘90’s!” Beca called from the table.

I love myself, I want you to love me When I feel down, I want you above me I search myself, I want you to find me I forget myself, I want you to remind me

A plan was slowly forming in her mind and she worked the stage but kept her eyes directly on Beca as she sang. Then she left the stage and slunk toward Beca, whose eyes were getting wider the closer Aubrey got. And the quieter, more intimate her singing became.

I close my eyes and see you before me Think I would die if you were to ignore me A fool could see just how much I adore you I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you

Aubrey stepped behind Beca, her fingertips running from one shoulder to the other across her back. She resisted the impulse to laugh when she felt Beca shiver.

I don't want anybody else When I think about you, I touch myself Ooh, I don't want anybody else Oh no, oh no, oh no

She continued moving around until she could drape herself across Beca’s lap, noticing how Beca flushed instantly, a nice, deep red going all the way down under her collar.

I want you I don't want anybody else When I think about you, I touch myself Ooh ooh ooh ooh ah ah ah ah oh ah

She crooned into Beca’s ear, much softer than the song called for and traced the spike that ran through the lobe. Beca’s sudden indrawn breath was audible through the microphone and now Aubrey let the smile free as she slid from Beca’s lap and strutted back to the stage to finish it. As the song drew to a close she took a bow as whistles filled the room. Ashley came up and took the microphone from her, smirking.

“And that’s the last song for the night. Thank you all for a great night of music and we hope to see you again soon!” Turning off the mic she placed it back in the stand and turned to Aubrey. “I think you killed her.”

Aubrey shrugged. “She started it.”

“Agreed.” Ashley pushed her toward the table. “Go sit while we clear everyone out. I need a drink with my friends.”

“Like I’d say no to that.” Aubrey laughed and went back to the table where Beca was steadily draining the last of her beer.

“Nice song choice, Mitchell.” Aubrey leaned back in her chair.

“I’ll never make that mistake again,” she vowed. “You win.”

“A Posen always wins.” Aubrey laughed. “You really did bring it on yourself.”

“Yup. I see that now.” Beca drummed her fingers on the table. “You’re a very wicked woman, Aubrey.”

“When the situation calls for it.” Aubrey shrugged. “Ashley told us to hang out while everyone leaves.”

“’Kay.” Beca’s face was deliberately neutral and Aubrey wondered what was going on behind eyes that were not-so-casually avoiding looking at her.

The two of them sat in silence, not uncomfortable but Aubrey could almost hear Beca thinking as the seconds ticked by. Even Aubrey could admit that what she’d done had some effect on her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten that close to someone; Beca’s riding behind her on the bike didn’t count. But this was her best friend and Aubrey didn’t think of her that way.

At least… not until now. Maybe Beca was right and Aubrey really just needed to get laid.

“So, is there something going on between you two that we don’t know about?” Jessica interrupted her thoughts as she, Ashley, Denise and Cynthia Rose approached the table.

“Nope.” Aubrey smiled innocently. “Just singing songs.”

“No.” Beca confirmed. “Aubrey likes her brunettes taller, apparently.”

Cynthia Rose set down the bottle of vodka she’d brought over. “Are we still talking about the chick that Aubrey’s having some bike war with?”

“That’s the one.” Beca waited as the four of them pulled over chairs and Ashley set down the stack of shot glasses she was carrying.

“Beca.” Aubrey sighed. “For the last time. I don’t even know if she likes women.”

Jessica carefully poured shots for all of them. “You know, the way you said that, it makes me think you’re interested in finding out.”

“Thank you!” Beca picked up her glass. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.”

Aubrey scowled and picked up her own shot and downed it. “That is not what I meant. At all.”

Except maybe it was, because her memory of that day had changed. She no longer thought of it with anger and even now she was only triggered by seeing That Bike in her spot. But… she sort of wished she remembered more of what the other woman looked like because in memory her voice was nice and the annoyingly vague impression she had was someone who was pretty. Plus, despite it all… she had called Aubrey cute. Sort of.

“I mean, it sounds like that’s what you meant.” Denise threw back her shot. “Like, you’re personally interested in finding out if she likes women or not.”

“You didn’t even know if Chloe liked women when you told me you were thinking of asking her out,” Beca pointed out. “So why is this one different?”

“She’s an insufferable woman who keeps stealing the bell off my bike. I couldn’t care less if she likes women.” Aubrey set her glass down and picked up the bottle to pour another. “And you can all fuck off.”

“Now look who’s getting uppity.” Cynthia Rose shook her head. “You know what they say ‘bout protesting too much.”

“Can we please talk about anything else?” Aubrey closed her eyes. “Did you guys give Beca this much crap over that DSM woman?”

“Aub...” Beca held up her hand.

“Wait – what about the blonde German goddess… exactly?” Ashley leaned forward. “Have you been holding out on us, Beca?”

“Thanks, Aubrey.” Beca picked up the vodka and ignored the shot glass, taking a drink directly from the bottle.

Aubrey smiled sweetly at her. “You’re welcome.”

Jessica held up two fingers. “First, I can’t believe either of you didn’t tell us whatever you’re about to reveal sooner.” She folded her middle finger and pointed at Beca who snorted. “Second, that’s gross and now you have to buy the whole bottle.”

“There’s no story here.” Beca muttered and handled the bottle to Denise who took a swig. “You know I hate that woman.”

“See my previous statement about protesting too much…” Cynthia Rose turned to Aubrey. “Spill.”

Aubrey leaned back in her chair. “Well... Beca thinks her sweat smells like cinnamon…” Beca just groaned and let her forehead rest on the table.  Aubrey smiled as the rest of the girls begged for more details.  Maybe now Beca would let the whole ‘you’re into the aggravating gym woman’ thing drop.

Because Aubrey had a sneaking suspicion she might be right. And that was definitely not allowed.

[zoran-royalty]

Just Once IV: Distant Friends

Rutara wasn’t fond of parties, if she was really being honest. She found most court parties to be stuffy, stifling affairs, and if she could have left without making some kind of political slight, she probably would have. Most of the time, anyway. Zelda was her best friend besides her brother, so she would make exceptions for her. After all, misery loves company.

At the moment, she was wearing a dress that was some sort of bizarre hybrid of Hylian high fashion and the distinct lack conventional clothing of the Zora. A fitted bodice and an open-front, sheer skirt. Its only positive point was that it accented her deep purple scales. She hated it, and made a great show of complaining about it while lying sprawled on Zelda’s gigantic bed.

Zelda had laughter in her voice when she said “Why don’t you just leave it here then and wear your sash?”

Rutara rolled over and rested on her elbows as she faced her friend. Thank goodness whoever designed this crazy garment at least had enough sense to cut the sleeves short enough to let her fins free. “Some suitor or other commissioned it for me. Father said I had to at least wear it once. Apparently it’s supposed to be wearable on land and in the water,” she gave a sharp smile, “We’ll see how it holds up hunting tomorrow.”

Zelda turned from her jewelry box, holding up two pairs of earrings and grinning. “I can already see you ‘accidentally’ ripping it on coral. Now, green or blue?”

Rutara looked Zelda up and down, contemplating. “Blue. They make your eyes look brighter.” She rolled onto her back again, reached out, and plucked a small chocolate off of the tray sitting on Zelda’s bed. “So,” she said around the candy in her mouth, “Who all is comin’ to this shindig?”

Zelda slumped forward and groaned. “The usual. Labrynnian delegates, the Holodrum royals, representatives from the major tribes of Hyrule—“

“Oh yeah, is the red-head coming?”

Zelda’s spine went rigid as her eyes widened. Rutara hadn’t meant to put her on edge with that question, but she had. “I… haven’t heard from him since his last letter, just before his coronation.”

“You didn’t go?” Rutara asked holding her arm up and inspecting her nails.

“Did you pay attention when we had to learn about the other Hyrulean cultures?” Zelda said with a hand on her hip, “Gerudo ceremonies are sacred and closed to outsiders.”

The Zora on her bed squinted and dropped her arm back to the bed. “Lame.”

Zelda sighed a bit, and turned back to her vanity. “Besides,” she spat bitterly, “I’m still not allowed to enter the desert. Even after Impa agreed to go with me, Father won’t let me go.”

Rutara hummed as she sat up and moved to get off the bed. She glanced towards Zelda’s balcony as she heard the telltale sound of hooves meeting the cobblestone of the road outside. “Fun topic time,” she said as she grabbed the tray of candy and then walked over to place a hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “Let’s watch the attendees come so we can make fun of their outfits while they can’t hear us.”

The Hylian princess allowed herself to relax as she laughed a bit, snatching one of the chocolates from the tray. “Deal.”

—

Ganondorf had honestly meant to write sooner, to tell his friend about everything that had happened since his coronation. However, there was a lot to cover, and he simply hadn’t had the time to devote to letters that he had in his youth. Suddenly being completely and utterly in charge of trade, guard schedules, diplomatic relations, training guidelines, and problem solving for his tribe had taken some getting used to, but he believed he was falling into stride. And, praise Din, the dark whispers from his childhood were less frequent when he threw himself into his work for his people.

Riding in his carriage, he held the formal invitation to Zelda’s party that was enclosed with her last letter. It had been about three months since she had written to him. Hopefully she would understand. Hopefully he wouldn’t cause too much of a stir at the party.

It had been ten years since he last set foot in Hyrule castle, and he and Aela hadn’t stayed long enough for Ganondorf to remember much of it. He and Aela both remembered being cold in the summer, so she had taken great lengths to have warmer clothing tailored for a winter celebration. He had been miserable when he first set out from the desert, but now he was thankful for the layers and furs his caretaker had procured. He would have to apologize for his whining later.

As he stepped out of the carriage, he marveled at the light dusting of snow in the courtyard. Everything glittered slightly in the light of the obscene number of torches lit throughout the castle grounds. He took a deep breath and did his best to look relaxed and non-threateneing. 

Still, the guards stiffened a bit as he approached. Ganondorf did his best to ignore the dark, indignant voice in the back of his mind as he showed his invitation.

—

“Oh! Oh! Ten o’clock!” Rutara exclaimed, elbowing Zelda, “Councilman Idris is wearing that dreadful hat from last year!”

The two girls descended into laughter as they gawked at the feathery monstrosity said councilman paraded around in. Zelda leaned forward a bit before pointing sharply at an approaching carriage. “Ten rupees says the Holodrum prince is wearing pink and green again,”

Rutela snorted. “He wore that at Rilan’s coming-of-age in summer,” she said, remembering her brother’s own party. “I say it’s purple and orange this time.”

As Zelda kept an eye on the Holodrum carriage, Rutara noticed another just entering the castle’s outer gate. As it rolled into the main grounds, She could just barely make out a seal she wasn’t as familiar with. She knew she had seen it before, and she mentally cycled through the tribes of Hyrule before it finally clicked in her mind.

“Called it!” Zelda exclaimed beside her, causing the Zora to jump. Indeed, the prince of Holodrum appeared to be in costume as a moldy wildberry, however Rutara had something else on her mind.

“C’mon!” Rutara said, grabbing Zelda’s wrist and half-dragging the Hylian princess off the balcony. Zelda stumbled as her friend pulled her, offering some— but not much—resistance.

“Where? Why—“ Zelda tried to form a proper question, but it was a bit hard with an energetic Zora weaving around her furniture and out to the hall.

“Trust me!”

—

The main hall of the castle was definitely the focal point of the party that night. The pillars, staircases, and railing of the balcony were bedecked in evergreen. Hundreds of lanterns had been strung throughout the space, and chandeliers blazed brightly. Everything was cast with a golden glow. This, coupled with a small group of court musicians playing cheery tunes, gave the hall a warm, comfortable atmosphere. Between two large staircases, space had been designated as a dance floor. The remainder of the space was filled with people, some sitting at tables and others walking around and mingling. Soft music from a string quartet filled the space above the idle chatter of guests.

Ganondorf tried to ignore the gawking stares as he made his way into the main hall. This was complicated by the fact that he was intently looking around for Zelda, despite having no idea how she had changed in the ten years since they last saw each other. A handful of the other guests would attempt to be friendly with the Gerudo king, however it was easy to see the fear in their eyes.

From the balcony above, Ganondorf just barely caught a flash of royal purple followed by blue and gold. He tried to focus on said flash, but it quickly wove through the crowds both on the upper floor and the staircase, so he made his way closer to where the flash was headed, hoping to see it better.

—

Rutara, it seemed, was as adept at swimming through crowds as she was through water. At least thrice, Zelda would’ve lost the Zora had either of them not maintained an iron grip on the other.

Despite some indignation at being dragged around like this at her own birthday ball, Zelda couldn’t help but smile as her friend led her through small breaks in the crowds. It almost seemed like a complicated dance as they read the movements of the people around them to find gaps in the throng.

As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Rutara suddenly stopped. Once Zelda’s momentum carried her passed her friend, the Zora shoved her even farther forward. Zelda laughed and turned back towards her friend. “Ruta—!” she called in mock-indignation.

Rutara simply smirked, pointed ahead of where she had shoved Zelda, and dashed off again.

Oh.

—

Oh.

It had been about ten years since he had seen her. Whenever Ganondorf had pictured Zelda, she had started that sweet six-year-old. As they wrote to each other and grew, he started envisioning how he thought she looked. He pictured her closer to the height of his cousins, but maybe a bit more delicate. Still, how he thought of her still tended to skew younger. But the young woman in front of him?

She’s beautiful.

She was a picture of grace. A goddess given mortal form.

He heard a dark chuckle. You’re not entirely wrong. 

Just for tonight, the young king thought, let me be.

—

He had grown taller than she expected. His fiery red hair was pulled back by the traditional Gerudo headpiece. Even through the finery he wore, Zelda could see he had grown strong as well. However not everything had changed, his eyes were still that soft gold, even if they looked a bit harder than they had when they were children.

She had changed too. Ganondorf saw she held herself with a grace that hadn’t existed in their childhood. Delicate, but wise. She held a power different than his, but just as strong.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, content in seeing each other again. When the musicians struck up a new tune, the trance was broken, and Ganondorf and Zelda broke into wide smiles.

“Would you care to dance, Princess?” Ganondorf said softly.

“It would be my pleasure.

[shulto-masusdesus]

The Cryptid Machine [BNHA AU: Chapter 1]

Time for the cryptid machine to go wild

(this is my writing sideblog btw)

i havent written anything else in days. i pushed for it so hard. 7k in three days and its just one chapter lol, fuck (i mean i wasnt writing anything else anyway so im glad i was productive at least thanks for giving me something to do lol)

But it was also fun

I accidentally really made them into the scooby-doo gang and honestly its the best thing ive ever done unintentionally. They just fit so well

@kawaiipotatuh @vango-bango and @sooske yo hi yall said you wanted to read it so i wrote it

sorry sooske i didnt get to shiga in this chapter but hes comin,,,,this is gonna be chaptered so he’ll definitely be in this soon. definitely plot relevant because i love shiggy. 

anyway A/N over time for the story

Rating: T for language and fantasy violence (no nsfw this time this is group friend story)

tags in the tags. some body horror because cryptid-related creepiness yknow. and major character death later on so yknow

if i missed anything tell me, okay now time for the story <3

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Izuku, frankly, was stunned.

“I thought it was just a hobby!”

“A hobby?” Shouto threw back what looked to be his thirtieth Five-Hour Energy, pouring syrup on the pancakes Izuku brought without paying much attention. They were more syrup than pancake at this point, but that was hardly priority at the moment. “A hobby?”

The giant frog sitting on the table between them blinked its left eye, and then the right, after a little delay. Izuku shuddered. Too much frog, too close, too much detail. Very scaly and slimy and bumpy. Frogs were not supposed to be big. But it was easily bigger than his head, almost the size of his torso.

“How did you get it in here?”

“Thawed crickets.” Shouto raised an eyebrow, as if having frozen crickets stored for a time such as this was normal and expected. Like a madman consumed by his own craft, he picked up a syrup-coated pancake with his own two hands, and bit into it. Then he looked at the mess with mild surprise, a gaze that read “What the fuck is this? Where did all this syrup come from?” Izuku didn’t have the heart to answer him. “…You’re underestimating me.”

Izuku shut his eyes, sucked in a breath, rubbing his temples. “So. You found this frog in the woods behind your house. You just so happened to have a pack of frozen crickets-”

“No, that’s not what happened,” Shouto leaned forward, elbows on the table, the plate of pancakes Izuku brought ruined and pushed to the side, with that damned cursed light in his eyes he got when he was about to tell a story, dive head-first into a theory, or conjure up a new way to ditch work. “I’ve been hunting this frog for months. I learn about many creatures when researching,”

Scrolling r/cryptids, Izuku thought. And various other unspeakable 2chan threads and dark web sites. He sighed. Those pancakes were better than usual, too...he managed to remember to use less butter…he forgot that all the time…if he was going to make pancakes in the middle of the night, they may as well be good...what was Shouto talking about? Oh yeah, the frog.

“-and I encountered this post about a kappa sighting. It was confusing, and I almost wrote it off as another incident of someone just seeing something very mundane in the wrong light - until I recognized the location of the sighting.” There it was, Shouto’s rare grin, a look very reminiscent of the cat that finally caught the mouse. “…Heartstone Lake, on the park side of the woods.”

The giant frog grumbled. Loudly. Its chest puffed a little and Izuku felt a wild fear for what a real croak would sound like. This thing was huge. “Uhm, yeah? And?”

“So I went and checked it out.” He went over to his Wall, pointing to photo after photo, and Izuku hummed along, suddenly very, very worried about this frog in the Todoroki’s basement. This could end in many ways, and a very loud croak waking up his dad would be one of the worse ones. “Found tracks. Tracks, Izuku. You have to understand - nobody ever finds tracks.”

Izuku nodded. “Crazy.” He said, noticing how the frog’s eye was starting to slowly roll around, as if looking, scanning its surroundings. He was a little bit more than freaked out. He really had thought that this was just an interest of Shouto’s. Not something he was actually going to pursue, and that it produced a very crypid-like thing, a real result? A part of him wanted to go home and go back to bed, before Shouto decided to find a demon from hell or something. Or before the frog turned out to be a demon from hell. “…Did you do a steak-out?”

“Yes. Many steak-outs.” Shouto sighed, rubbing his face. “For…six weeks. Every night and every spare minute I could get. Along with a camera live feed setup. Only today did I actually see something, and once I did, I didn’t let it get away.” His smile was so wholesome, but the fruit of his labor was probably a harbinger of the void. Izuku was torn between supporting his friend and self-preservation.

Izuku decided to call the two people who would help back him up in whatever answer was the right one. The guardian angels, Tenya and Ochako. Because he needed help.

“I’m gonna call Tenya and Ochako.”

To Izuku’s bewilderment, Shouto deflated, smile dying, abruptly concerned. Izuku sputtered, pausing in pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What?! Do you not want them to know, or-?!”

With a sigh, Shouto grumbled, “Tenya…You know what he’d say.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “It’s probably what you need to hear, really. Monster or not, this frog doesn’t belong indoors. We could get money for it, and what if it’s a new species or something-”

The other boy sighed. “Fine, whatever-”

The underside of the frog’s throat started expanding. Izuku watched in mute horror as it opened its mouth, and released a croak.

It was louder than Izuku expected. Very much so. His ears were left ringing from the rumbling warble, but that was hardly the biggest problem. There was a lot of thudding and yelling going on upstairs, in the upper levels of the Todoroki household; the family converging in on Shouto’s basement for whatever that definitely inhumane noise was.

Shouto’s dad was the strictest father around, and didn’t allow Shouto to have friends over on weeknights, nevermind late at night; since Izuku, an unapproved friend, basically snuck into the house on a weeknight at the unholy hour of three in the morning, he was breaking many, many rules.

And a giant fucking frog on the table in the middle of the room also would do more than raise a few eyebrows.

Shouto, however, was prepared. He pushed a mysterious white jar across the table to him, and pointed to the basement awning window. “I’ll help,” He said. “It’s actually not all that heavy.”

“Shouto! What was that?! What are you doing in there, it’s three in the morning on a school night-!”

There was his father. However, aside from the actual basement door lock, Shouto secretly installed about six extra locks, so he wasn’t getting in any time soon. “Studying, Dad,” Shouto said, heaving the massive, slimy frog off the table. He nailed he tired, annoyed, exasperated tone perfectly. Izuku opened the jar, and forced down a squeak - mushy, wet, dead crickets. “There’s a science tomorrow, I want to make sure I’m ready.”

His dad went quiet, which was his “you’re probably lying, but finding out the truth is more effort than I’m willing to put in at the moment” response. Izuku’s been witness to it a lot, as this is far from the first time he’s been a Master Lock away from getting caught. Shouto gave Izuku a look, frog in hand, as he opened the small window.

“Studying at such an…early hour is counter-productive. Get to bed, Shouto.”

“Alright.” Izuku shimmied out the window, onto the grass outside, and cringed as he opened the jar and gently picked up a soggy cricket corpse. With some difficulty, Shouto shoved the fat mass of jiggling skin through the awning, and Izuku pulled it the rest of the way out.

“Don’t let it out of your sight,” Shouto mouthed, scowling a little. Most likely because he was forced to get rid of his first find. Weird giant frog or not, it was really important to Shouto, so he couldn’t lose track of it-

The frog grumbled, and started hopping off.

“Get it!” Shouto hissed, and Izuku ran after it.

It wasn’t as fast as he thought. He caught up to it easily, and offered it a few crickets to bribe it into sitting still for a moment. Shouto’s window shut, and tense yelling ensued; Shouto buying time so he could hide incriminating evidence. His dad probably heard them.

An awkward ten minutes passed. Routinely, Izuku dropped a cricket or two, and the frog stayed put. Eventually, Shouto opened the window again, glaring.

“Take it to your house,” He said. “God knows I’m not gonna get away with hiding it here.” And he shut the window.

“So,” Izuku said, to the monster frog, dropping a couple more crickets. Its tongue flicked out to grab them, and honestly, Izuku feared for his safety. “I guess you’re coming to my place?”

 _______________________________________________________________

 Step one; get it onto his bike.

His basket was definitely big enough for the frog. He could probably stop every couple minutes to feed it a cricket so it wouldn’t struggle too much while he was on the road. It wouldn’t end well for either of them if it decided to upset the balance of the bike on the road.

He lugged the frog into the basket - it really wasn’t as heavy as it looked - and gave it a few crickets before locking the lid. Step two; get it home. That was the easy part.

The ride was mostly uneventful. The route was mostly muscle memory, so it wasn’t hard to hyperfocus on every odd rustle and bump on the back of his bike. He stopped to feed it about five times, and each time its tongue lashed out harder and faster. His fight-or-flight instinct begged him to run away from the very real monster frog on the back of his bike. He channeled the energy into maintaining cadence. If Shouto wasn’t his best friend, and wouldn’t probably murder him if he lost it, he would’ve let the frog hop into the woods when it tried to.

Finally, he reached his plain suburban neighborhood. He considered stopping at Kacchan’s house, but he’d probably kill the frog on sight, so he couldn’t rely on him for moral support. Time to call Ochako up for an early-morning napover. She said “anytime”, right?

Step three; get it to his room. His backyard didn’t have a fence, and he didn’t have a basement, and even if his mom didn’t have a panic attack when she saw the frog, she would definitely tell him to get it out of the house. Any rational person would, really. So. Hiding it in his bedroom was the only choice.

Mom never got out of bed past midnight, so it was easy to trudge inside, to his room, and to lock the door behind him. Then the frog leapt from his arms, and hopped its slimy body onto his bed. Ew. Time to call Ochako.

As promised, she answered by the fourth ring. “…Yaeah…Deku…?”

“Uhm, come to my house?” Izuku chuckled nervously. “Shouto found…uh, a giant frog, but he couldn’t keep it at his house, so I’m keeping it at mine. I need a little moral support?”

“...” Ochako sighed, a very, very long sigh. “...”

“Ochako?”

“What?”

“Shouto found a giant frog-”

“A WHAT?!”

It took Ochako all of fifteen minutes to get to his place, on foot. She took the short route to his room - through his window - and gawked at the frog for another five minutes, school backpack and sleeping bag falling from her hands.

“He - really?!”

“Yeah…”

She stared at it for a long, long time. It grumbled again. Izuku felt a sinking feeling.

“It’s - a giant frog.”

“...Yeah.”

“And…he just…?”

“No, he said he’d been looking for it for the past six weeks.”

“So that’s why he’s been passing out in class?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Ochako stared at the frog. “I thought it was all…”

“He flipped out a little when I said I thought it was just a hobby.” He ran his fingers through his hair with a huff. “This is really important to him.”

“Well…” She mumbled, eyes wide. “We may as well…take good care of it. H…how do you get a frog to go to sleep? Don’t frogs need heat lamps? How do we take care of a frog - a giant frog-” She stomped her foot. “Did Shouto think about this at all?”

She looked at Izuku. He raised an eyebrow in return. And she fell into giggles. “Yeah,” She said. “Let’s get it in front of a heater?”

Izuku left the room, running down to the hall closet to get a heater; on his way back, Ochako suddenly screamed.

He ran to his room, and to his horror, the frog was, for lack of a better term, erupting. Blowing up like a balloon. Ochako shoved him out of the doorway, into the hall, and slammed the door shut.

“What is going on here?” Oh, his mom was up now, rushing down the hall with concern. “What happened? Ochako, very…nice to see you, but at this hour? What’s happening?”

The two teens were speechless. They looked to each other for answers, but found nothing there but shock and general horror. Tentatively, Ochako cracked the door back open.

The frog was splayed about thinly like a shed bag. Sitting on Izuku’s bed now, instead, was a girl with long green hair. And also very naked, the frog broke open and was now a naked girl-

Confusion ensued. Mom screamed a little, shocked by the frog flash bag, and Ochako and Deku screamed because the frog was gone and Shouto was now on the list of people who wanted them dead; then his mom ran in, bringing the blanket up around the girl with shaking hands and firing off questions one after another, and Izuku screamed louder because he realized that somehow the frog became the girl - Ochako screamed louder, because she realized that with Shouto’s internet skill and wide range of information sources, there was no way to hide from him.

“Izuku, who is this?! Why is she naked?!” Mom turned to him with an unfamiliar demanding tone. “Explain! Now!”

“I don’t…!” Izuku was, completely, lost. “I don’t know…! I think - she was-!?”

Ochako stopped screaming, and said, “We don’t know! She - the frog - it exploded and - it was a frog before-!”

“A frog!?” Mom shouted - his mom never shouted. Izuku felt like reality was fraying at the seams. “What-”

“RIBBIT.”

Everything stopped. Ochako stopped. His mom stopped. Izuku felt like he suddenly lost the ability to breathe, like someone clicked ‘end task’ on his lungs and his panicking head.

The girl’s eyes were very, very big, an expression of pure confusion and shock on her face. “RIBBIT!” She screeched, again.

“R…’ribbit’…?” Mom said, weakly. “What do you mean…?”

“...” The girl stared at Mom with a wild lack of recognition. Not just that she didn’t know who Mom was; she had no idea what she was seeing at all and was completely lost. Izuku was almost as lost, really. “Ribbit…”

Ochako swayed lightly, gripping Izuku’s arm. “S-so - the frog was there before - did she come out of the frog…?!”

Izuku looked at the frog flesh and slime splayed on his bed. “…P…probably…”

His mom’s expression faded from extreme shock and confusion, to general surprise. “Izuku, Ochako, please explain - what is this mess - who is she-”

“I don’t know!” Izuku burst, shaking a little. “I don’t know! It was a frog before and now its a girl and Shouto didn’t tell me and I don’t know-”

“Izuku-”

“Izuku, baby, calm down,” Mom quickly crossed the room to him, softly taking his hands. “It’s okay, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry. Let’s have some tea, and we’ll talk about it, okay?”

“...O…okay.”

 _______________________________________________________________

 Tea with a splash of honey was always good. It warmed him down to his core. The girl seemed to also be enjoying it, if her regular sips were any indicator. Even if she was a bit tentative, slow, testing about it, each time.

His mom sighed heavily. “So, according to your story, she’s…”

Ochako hummed. “Yeah. I don’t believe it either. We should call Shouto.”

“He’d love this,” Izuku mumbled, staring into his tea. “He probably knows what…she is. I certainly don’t.”

“...Well,” Mom glanced at the girl. She had a permanent frown on her face. “We’ll deal with this tomorrow. Today, we’ll…well, It’s already five, isn’t it?”

Izuku dropped his head onto the table. “One hour. Please. I want sleep. I didn’t sleep at all.”

“Ditto,” Ochako also dropped her head, with a heavy thud. “No sleep. At all. I almost was asleep, but then Deku called…”

“Sorry…”

“’S alright….I wouldn’t wanna miss this.” She huffed a laugh. “Somehow, I’m glad I saw it live.”

Mom sighed again, sounding old. “Okay,” She said. “You only have about two hours, though. Remember, you both promised you would ride to school this year.”

Izuku groaned, muffling himself on the wood table. Ochako also whined. The girl watched the both of them curiously.

His mom agreed to watch the girl while they napped; Izuku was so not sleeping in his bed, so he took Mom’s bed instead. Ochako splayed out over one half of the king-sized bed while Izuku took up one third, sharing it because his mom’s bed was wonderful.

It was, without a doubt, the worst nap of his life. Because just as he was getting settled in and kind of almost sleeping, the six o’clock alarm on Mom’s bedside table buzzed loudly. Along with the knee Ochako unconsciously jammed halfway up his ass and her loud drool-snore-choke-drowning, he kind of wanted to die, to get some real sleep. The reason why he stopped sleeping in the same bed as Uraraka Ochako came back to him. Violently, in the form of a foot mysteriously journeying its way up his pants. She was just the weirdest sleeper.

He untangled himself from the covers and Ochako and trudged down the hall. He went to his room, intent on grabbing a shower before school.

He grabbed his clothes from his closet and was on his way to the bathroom before he suddenly recalled what happened last night. Where the fuck was that girl-

He ran around the house, looking for her and Mom - the car was gone from the driveway. His mom had work early in the day, so that was normal, but the girl was still nowhere to be seen. Where was she?!

He texted his mom urgently, and she responded, I left her at home. She should be there with you. Have a good day at school <3

One, was he really going to just leave her at home all day? And two, she was absolutely nowhere to be seen. He checked the kitchen, the living room, all the closets, both bedrooms, and their house was one floor and small as fuck, so there wasn’t many places to hide. She was gone.

And then Ochako screamed. Izuku could probably guess where frog girl was.

He ran to Mom’s room, and there she was, Ochako standing on the bed in a martial arts defensive position with frog girl sitting on the floor, blinking cluelessly, now dressed in spare clothes Ochako left here. But she still had such an alien air around her that it felt like the clothes didn’t quite fit her. She confounded Izuku on every level.

Izuku was cobbling together some way to react to the situation when his phone started ringing. He answered.

“H-hello?!”

“Is the frog okay?”

Shouto. Izuku felt a range of emotions, from relief to joy to murderous intent to numbness. “…It turned into a person, Shouto. A girl. Did you know this would happen!?”

A silence passed.

“Shouto?”

“...S-sorry, I…”

“Shouto, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” He sniffed faintly. “I wanted to see it.”

“You knew it would happen?!”

“No, but I had a feeling. Part of the witness reports described a frog standing on two legs like a person, and even people with frog-like features, y’know, like a person, but a frog.” Shouto sighed. “So either it was just one creature that could shapeshift to varying levels of frog to humanoid, or it was many creatures that were all varying levels of frog to humanoid. Like kappas or something.” Something tapped rhythmically in the background. “I wished I could’ve seen the shift. Do you still have the shed skin?”

“For what, Shouto,” Izuku was, frankly, pretty fed up. The frog girl was now on top of Ochako and very closely watching her, scanning her features. “What are you going to do with a giant frog flesh bag, Shouto.”

“Research.”

“Shouto.”

“Testing.”

“Shouto! You’re missing the-”

“Fine!” The other boy huffed roughly. “I’m gonna call Mei and cash in a debt to use her research facilities.”

“Shouto, I love you, but you have a C in chemistry. But that’s beside the-”

“She’s going to examine the frog skin, okay?! That’s it! Sorry I don’t have a genetics lab in my fucking basement!”

Izuku tried to be exasperated, but he ended up fighting back a smile. “N-no, Shouto, that’s not - I - whatever Mei has to do with it, it’s a nasty sack of frog skin, Shouto. I was talking more as in, ‘it’s absurd that you would want it, so why’, not ‘you don’t have the means to do anything with it, so why’.”

Shouto went quiet. “…” It was a long, self-depreciating quiet.

“Look,” Izuku said, smile fading, because fuck, Shouto drove him crazy sometimes. “Get your ass over here and help me decide what we’re going to do about her. She can’t stay here while we’re at school all day, can she?”

“I don’t see why not,” Shouto mumbled. “Can’t take her to school. Can’t let her loose.”

“Shouto, you have the skin, basically, so you have a model of what the crypid frog looks like, right? And proof?”

“Yeah. That’s the best part.”

“So do we really need to keep her?” Izuku watched as the girl tried to lick Ochako with a freakishly long tongue. Being a reasonable human being, the brown-haired girl was scrambling away before she made contact. “She’s…well, I mean, endangered species preservation, right? And - I dunno, what’re we gonna keep her for? She looks like a person, kind of…it’d be weird. Morally.”

“...How human does she seem?”

“One hundred percent. She has big eyes, but that can be passed off as a feature, y’know?” Ochako ran to the doorway - the girl opened her mouth wide, tongue flicking out, and it reached all the way across the room, wrapping around Ochako’s waist and pulling her back in. Izuku flinched as his friend shrieked. “…But her tongue is super long and weird, like a frog’s, and she currently has captured Ochako with it.”

“...Well, human meat doesn’t sit well with frogs, so she isn’t going to try to eat her. Unless she’s an adventurous type or something. I mean, she is a monster, so she’s probably full of surprises. Don’t trust her.” Shouto laughed, like this was a joke. Izuku didn’t find it very funny...How did he know that human meat doesn’t sit well with frogs…?

Ochako was released once she was dragged close enough for the girl to grab her. “So we’re just gonna leave her in my house for the day.”

“Yeah.”

“There are hazards everywhere, Shouto.”

“She’ll probably be fine.”

“But what if my Xbox isn’t, Shouto? What if she burns my house down, Shouto? What if she breaks my Xbox Shouto-”

“Forget about your Xbox,” Shouto snapped. Izuku gasped loudly. “It’ll be fine. She won’t mess with anything. I think. And like you said, if she escapes, it isn’t that bad. As long as the skin is still there, she exists. That’s all I need. I have to take a shower before school, I smell like black coffee and steroids. Later.”

And there he went. Almost angrily, Izuku pocketed his phone and said, “H-hey!”

Frog girl looked at Izuku boredly. “Help me,” Ochako begged, held captive by the two arms around her waist. Izuku debated the pros and cons of tearing her away from the literally mutant creature. What was the likelihood of survival?

“We have an hour before we meet up with Shouto,” Izuku stated flatly. “I’m taking a shower first.”

“No!” In a flash, Ochako twisted free of her bindings and was out of the room, and zooming down the hall. “You take all the hot water!”

Izuku sighed. Frog girl, covered in her own hair like she was drowning in it, stared at him with wide green eyes. He averted his gaze, nervously.

“U-uh, hi,” He said. Wow, could he be any more awkward? Well, she wasn’t human, so it wasn’t like she’d pick up on any of human societal nuances-

“Hi.”

She said. She fucking said. She said?! She said. She talked. She said words. She said ‘hi’. Whoawhoawhoa - it had to be simple parroting, it had to be just-

“Where did she go.”

Izuku felt the inexplicable urge to cry. “Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-”

Frog girl stared at Izuku, eyes peeking between strands of hair with a strange light. “Where is she.”

“I-I-I-I-I-d-d-d-d-on’t-”

She stood up, and walked past him with halting, almost jerking steps. She left the room, and looked one way, then the other. “…”

“O-O-Ochako?!” Izuku felt like curling up in a corner and sobbing wildly. He felt like he just looked into the void and it talked back to him. He felt a number of things, and all of them involved some level of existential terror. “Sh-she’s i-in the sh-shower…D-don’t-”

She was already on her way down the hallway. Izuku didn’t really think upsetting this being of mysterious and potentially reality-breaking power was a good idea. Technically, she was another girl, so it wouldn’t be that weird for her to walk in on Ochako, right? Uh.

Right on cue, Ochako screamed. Izuku groaned. By finding this cursed being, Shouto effectively turned his life upside down. For better or worse was yet to be seen. But from how Ochako was currently fighting frog girl out of her shower, it was probably for worse. Would his life ever go back to normal?

 _______________________________________________________________

 By some miracle, they managed to get on the road on time, meeting up with Shouto on the way. While he and Ochako rode very practical bikes, he rode a skateboard. Why, he refused to really tell. If he wasn’t wearing his school uniform, he’d look like he was in the wrong decade. And somehow the uniform made it look even tackier. But it was alright. It wasn’t like he was bad at it; in fact, he pulled many moves that were reminiscent of a certain famous skateboarder, but he was also from the wrong decade. Somehow, it suited him. He, to a concerning level, didn’t care what other people thought of him, so it was okay. Just weird.

“So,” Shouto said, cruising along with Ochako, keeping up easily despite having much smaller wheels. Also weird. “Show me a pic of her.”

“A what?” Izuku blinked.

“A picture.” Shouto raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you didn’t take a picture.”

“...”

Ochako shrugged, rhythmically tapping her bell. “Didn’t think to.”

The boy huffed. “You guys are the worst,” He said. “How are we supposed to get proof that she shapeshifted if we didn’t get the after picture?”

“Shouto, I’m tired,” Izuku sighed. “I’m sorry. But this is way over my head. I’m not good at…this paranormal cryptid stuff. It’s fun when it’s just creepy stories, but - I dunno, this is too much.” He shuddered. “She talked. Just, started saying words. Like a normal person - super blunt and to the point, but it was like she said it like that on purpose. She knew. Just like that. And she was a frog before-”

“She talked?!” Shouto’s eyes lit up. “What did she say? What did her voice sound like? Ugh, I wish we got it on tape-”

“Shouto!” Izuku snapped. “Pay attention! Forget that stuff - I don’t want any part in it anymore! I’m scared! After school, we’re gonna let her go, and that’s gonna be the end of it! Okay!?” If there’s even a home to return to, Izuku thought bitterly.

Shouto stared at him, blankly. Then he looked away. “…Alright.”

Ochako whistled. “You guys fall out hard,” She said. “I give it…three days before one of you starts apologizing.”

Izuku’s face burned. He was the one apologizing, most of the time. But not this time, He thought resolutely. He wasn’t at fault here. Shouto was going to apologize to him, for dragging him into this mess in the first place.

 _______________________________________________________________

 [10:25 A.M.]

nessie: im dying. im actually dying

shouto: why

nessie: what the fuck is a lamange

nessie: mange is a disease

nessie: in french it means what??? food???? kill me

shouto: it means eat

shouto: pay attention in class and you might get it

nessie: fuck you

nessie: youre the last person i want to hear that from

shouto: ow

nessie: Rip Believe It Or Not

shouto: Ripley’s I Know This Stuff Is Real, But I Can’t Handle It, Dog

nessie: nibyguvtfcu

nessie: so you do get it

shouto: get what

shouto: what

nessie: oh my god

nessie: Oh My God

nessie: you are a national treasure

nessie: you know that

shouto: ??????

shouto: ?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!!what am I missing now

nessie: shut up for a minute teach coming

shouto: well I hope not thats a little inappropriate

---

[10:30 A.M.]

nessie: shouto holy shit what the fuck oh my god what the fuck

nessie: dude

shouto: yeah I sent that without thinking

shouto: and then I couldnt send a correction because

shouto: and yeah

nessie: dude

pppppppppppink: whats happening

pppppppppppink: oh wow what was that shouto hahahahha

shouto: oh my god look it was an accident

tenya: ochako its hardly fair to make fun of him for that

tenya: it was an honest mistake

nessie: tenya coughs, “unfortunately”

shouto: say that shit to my face deku

shouto: whos on the football team huh

nessie: surprised you caught that

nessie: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

shouto: i am going to kill you,

pppppppppppink: hey no death threats on my friendly christian minecraft server

nessie: deadmeme

tenya: yes, death threats are not the way to handle strife between friends

tenya: but neither were those insults, izuku

tenya: you know shouto’s skill does not warrant comments such as those

nessie: hes gonna get a coma i know it

tenya: what does that have to do with anything

nessie: football

nessie: caveman sport

tenya: that is inappropriate

shouto: dudedudedude look man

shouto: im sorry okay

nessie: FOR WHAT SHOUTO

shouto: I DONT KNOW

pppppppppppink: wow that was fast

tenya: please quiet teacher

------

[10:35 A.M.]

shouto: look man I dont know what youre so angry about

nessie: im not angry

pppppppppppink: izuku coughs, “im furious”

nessie: im n o t

tenya: izuku i believe you are, in fact, angry

nessie: im not angry

shouto: youre angry

nessie: SHOUTO WHAT THE FUCK MAN

nessie: EXCUSE ME IF IM A LITTLE SHAKEN UP ABOUT YOU DROPPING A FUCKING FROG DEMON ONTO ME

shouto: i wouldve kept it if i could

shouto: but i forced it onto you without asking

shouto: sorry

nessie: “sorry if i valued a mythical creature above my friends feelings”

shouto: well fuck

shouto: i tried

shouto: yeah fuck you

shouto: i wouldve loved to have it

shouto: you love it when i talk to you about it so what the fuck is the difference

nessie: THEYRE JUST STORIES

nessie: S T O R I E S

nessie: I DONT WANT THEM TO BE REAL

nessie: ITS TOO MUCH

nessie: ITS SCARY

shouto: dude theres always a chance of the stories being real

shouto: you didnt know that

nessie: dontdothat

nessie: i dont want to think of them like that

nessie: no one wants them to be real

shouto: i do

nessie: yeah but ur a weirdo

tenya: foul

pppppppppppink: yeah try again

pppppppppppink: stay within bounds

nessie: are you reffing our fight

tenya: yes

tenya: go on

shouto: dude if you dont want any part of it then ill take her okay

shouto: okay?

nessie: that isnt it

nessie: because ur gonna be all weird about it and be all offended

nessie: bullshit

nessie: were gonna straighten this out here

nessie: rn

tenya: as a distraction in class.

nessie: sure

shouto: im not gonna be offended

pppppppppppink: hahahahhahahhha

shouto: im not

tenya: you will be offended

nessie: you will be offended

nessie: you dont think my fear is valid

shouto: being scared of it and pushing it away isnt going to make it disappear

shouto: theres a monster under your bed whether you want it to be there or not

nessie: oh my FUCKING GOD SHOUTO

nessie: THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT

nessie: YOU DONT LISTEN TO ME

shouto: i am

shouto: im doing nothing but listening to you

shouto: im getting on aizawas nerves

tenya: he means respect

tenya: you arent respecting him

tenya: as evidenced by you “twisting the knife”, for lack of a better term

tenya: you understand that stories of paranormal activities entertain him?

shouto: yes

tenya: the rift seems to lay in the fact that although he enjoys them as stories, he does not wish them to be real, intimate experiences

tenya: this is where you two seem to split

tenya: because you strive to live the stories

pppppppppppink: *is eating popcorn* marriage counseling :D

shouto: i mean who wouldnt

nessie: I DONT I DONT I DONT I DONT I DONT

nessie: NONONONONONONONO

nessie: UCK AMN DO YOU THIINK I WANNA FUCKING

nessie: THAT IS

nessie: NOOONONONONOONONO

shouto: shit man calm down

shouto: so it scares you

nessie: fuck yess??? you get it????finally????

shouto: why

[nessie has left the group chat.]

pppppppppppink: dude you messed up

shouto: .

tenya: i advise understanding

tenya: not everyone feels the same way you do

shouto: well duh

shouto: but it isnt scary

shouto: .

pppppppppppink: are you hearing yourself? finally?

pppppppppppink: not to be mean, ur just

pppppppppppink: really dense :D

tenya: to him, it is scary.

tenya: and thats just how he works

tenya: youll have to respect that

shouto: but its not scary

tenya: that is an opinion, shouto

tenya: not fact. it varies from person to person

tenya: you have to respect his opinion, shouto

shouto: .

shouto: god

shouto: fine

tenya: now what’s this about a “frog demon”?

pppppppppppink: ohohoohooho

shouto: first of all, it isnt a demon

pppppppppppink: do i have a story for you!

 _______________________________________________________________

 Izuku settled on giving Shouto the cold shoulder. It lasted out of school and on the way home, even as they pulled up to his house. Even as he kept pestering him with his constant, creepy, begging stare. Fuck him. Because if he talked first, he’d end up apologizing. And he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t the one at fault.

The frog girl was gone. They searched high and low, all over his house, but she was nowhere to be seen. Izuku found the frog skin wrapped up in the dumpster outside, and threw it at Shouto without a word. Shouto didn’t say anything, either.

“Hm,” Ochako popped a sucker into her mouth. “I changed my mind. Two days.”

Izuku grumbled, flushing bright red.

“I find this whole story a little hard to believe,” Tenya said, and Izuku felt a wild urge to punch him. “You mean to tell me that this so-called giant frog split open and turned out to be a young girl? Who is now missing?”

“Tenya, I wish it didn’t happen,” Izuku crossed the driveway, grabbing the taller boy by his quarterback shoulders. “I wish desperately that it didn’t happen. But it did.”

“Oh yeah,” Ochako said, nodding. “It was crazy. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t been there.” With a shrug, she added, “Still kinda in doubt. It was super late.”

“Maybe it was a dream?”

“No,” Shouto said, coming up to show Tenya something on his phone. “Pictures. Video. It’s real. The frog, at least. I also have samples at home. I did some research - actually, there are some frogs that can grow up to about the size of our frog, but they can only live in equatorial Guinea. Without the girl, the skin only proves that a new species of giant frog lives in the area unless they map its genome or something.” He shrugged. “Not the story I was looking for, but cool nonetheless.”

“’Story’?” Izuku bristled. “What are you even looking for, Shouto? Why are you doing this at all?” Whoops. But he couldn’t help it. He’d been wondering it for a while, but this was the breaking point. Would he just hand the girl over to scientists for testing if he did have her? Would they take advantage of the fact that she isn’t human to do whatever they wanted? What was Shouto getting from this? Money? Fame? He wasn’t the type who would search out stuff like that, so what-?!

“Huh?” Shouto tilted his head. “...Why not? It’s fun.”

He could scream. Angrily, he stomped back to the porch, yanking open his door and ready to lock it behind him-

-and the kitchen was a mess, like a tornado whizzed around in the few moments they went outside. The dining table was on its side, chairs thrown around, cabinets raided and foodstuffs everywhere. The fridge was open, and judging from the aggressive clinking going on, someone was there. Izuku could probably guess who it was. But why now? She barely touched anything, earlier.

And then she peeked above the fridge door. Izuku screamed.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

if anyone knows how to color text please tell me because i spent a lot of time coloring the chat messages in the original doc and im sad it didnt carry so please and thank you tell me,

[bee-kathony]

McTavish & Beauchamp | Ch. 29 “Just the Beginning” 

a/n: This is the final chapter of this story. I feel so bittersweet -- this started out as a one shot, my first try at something canon related that I wished had gone a bit differently. It then evolved into my first multi-chapter fic. I wouldn’t have written more if you all didn’t ask for it, I didn’t expect people to like my writing or want to read anything of mine at all. This was all so new to me when I started. So thank you to everyone who has read this and encouraged me, it means so much! I will miss these Fraser’s, but I’m looking forward to even more stories to tell <3 and of course, thank you to @julesbeauchamp for calling this the ‘outlander we deserve’ and making me a couple of moodboards ;) 

Masterlist Here

4 months later…

September 19th, 1747

“Just breathe, Sassenach,” Jamie said softly from beside me. I’d been in labor since yesterday afternoon and I remember hearing that with the third child, it was supposed to be easier… not this one.

“He’s stubborn thing,” I groaned. “Just like his father.”

“Or a stubborn lass…” Jamie smirked. “Like her mam.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I let out a deep breath as another contraction came, this time much closer than the one before. Jenny and the midwife were helping me — wetting my forehead with a damp cloth, making sure I stayed hydrated. Jamie hadn’t left my side all night, he’d barely slept either.

I considered myself to be a patient person, but when matters of my body were concerned and an immense amount of pain… I wasn’t.

“Do ye wanna go for another walk, mo nighean? See if it helps,” Jamie asked.

“No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I do not want to go for another bloody walk, I want this baby out of me!”

Gripping Jamie’s hand tight, another contraction passed. The last time I had given birth to our son, William, it had been dangerous for the both of us. I was scared and I knew Jamie was too. In my own time, I would be in a hospital with clean linen’s and medicines to help with the pain — giving childbirth in the 18th century was exactly what I’d thought it would be.

“Is there anythin’ we can do, Jenny?” Jamie asked his sister who had just returned with freshly boiled cloths.

“If she doesna want to go for a walk, aye, there are a few things…” she smirked.

“Well what is it?” I tried to sit up. I knew of a few things all right… and I knew why she was smirking.

“Intercourse helps progress the labor quite well,” she said and I felt Jamie shift in the bed. He was so nervous to touch me near the end, afraid that the baby would some how feel an intruder. “Nipple stimulation, and of course wee walks.”

I looked over at Jamie who’s face was red, “Well?”

“I dinna want to hurt ye, Sassenach… or the bairn.”

“You won’t hurt us, Jamie. How many times do I have to tell you this,” I smiled, cupping his face. “If you’re too bloody afraid to have sex with your wife, then the least you can do is touch me.” I reached for his hand and laid it on my breast.

“I’ll come back later,” Jenny smirked and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Ye think this will work, mo ghraidh?” Jamie moved closer, pulling my shift down from my shoulders until both breasts were exposed.

“Oh yes,” I nodded. “I’ve heard of many women’s labors being sped up this way and of course by having sex, but…” I gave him a look. “My husband won’t do that.”

“Och, ye ken I want to, Sassenach… I just—“ He said a bit shyly as he glanced down at my massive belly. “I dinna want to hurt ye and I dinna want to poke the poor fella.”

Jamie moved his fingers around my areola, pressing gently and then firmer as I touched his wrist. My nipples hardened at his touch. Sex was the last thing on my mind, having been sweating and feeling like I was about to explode for the last eighteen hours.

“Jamie, will you try?” I said.

He bent down to kiss me, his hands moving to my shoulders. “I’ll try for ye, Sassenach.”

It took a bit of effort, but I managed to move onto my hands and knees — there was no possible way Jamie could manage to curve himself around my stomach and I was too heavy to straddle him.

“If ye feel any pain at all, Claire…” he placed his hands on my hips. “Ye tell me to stop and I swear I will.”

“I won’t,” I urged, backing my hips against him, feeling how hard he was. It’d been months since we’d been together like this, I knew no matter how much he protested, he wanted me.

Slowly and carefully, Jamie pressed into me and a deep sigh left both of our lips. It did feel different, somehow fuller. My stomach was against the bed, and I raised myself best I could on my hands as he began to thrust into me. He was being so gentle, so tender.

“It feels good, Jamie,” I encouraged him and turned my head to see him looking down at the place of our joining. I could hear it then, the wetness as he pushed forward. “Oh!”

“I’m almost,” he grunted. “I canna last much longer, Sassenach.”

Both his hands pressed into my hips, holding me to him and I hung my head forward as he finished with three more thrusts. Every nerve in my body seemed to come alive and it took all the energy in me to roll onto my side, collapsed and spent.

Jamie laid behind me, his hands softly stroking my belly and then I arched against him as another contraction came.

“That was quick,” Jamie chuckled.

Within the next hour, I was pushing, leaning against him for support and squeezing the bloody hell out of his hand. Once I felt the need to push, it all happened rather quickly from that point and now I lay back in bed, holding our precious baby boy.

“I told ye it would help quicken things,” Jenny snorted from the end of the bed as she gathered the used cloths and bedsheets.

“Aye, ye did,” Jamie narrowed his eyes. “Now, will ye go and get the other wee bairns of ours?”

A moment later, Faith and William came running in, excited smiled on their faces. With Jamie’s help, they crawled up onto the bed, sitting around us.

“This is your new baby brother,” I smiled and turned him towards them. “His name is Brian… like your grandda.”

The eldest Brian Fraser stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and I thought I saw a few unshed tears in his eyes. I smiled at him and he at me, then turned back to my children. I never thought I would have a family of my own — a distant thought perhaps in the back of my mind, but never did I think I would be surrounded by my husband and three beautiful children, all with a mop of red hair.

Ever since Brian’s return, we had all gotten into a routine of sorts. Life was beginning to take shape again and after so many years of traveling and never feeling settled, Jamie and I found peace here at Lallybroch.

Brian had grown healthier day by day, returning once again to the man he once was. He didn’t want to be Laird of Lallybroch anymore, it was Jamie’s duty he said. I saw how Jamie took on that responsibility so seriously, always caring for his tenants and family. Caring for us.

I helped around the estate with Jenny, whether in the garden that I had helped cultivate or with daily tasks inside. And once a week, I went into the village and houses nearby and healed people with cuts and diseases, using my knowledge in any way that I could.

We were slowly outgrowing Lallybroch, with three children of our own as well as Jenny and Ian’s never ending offspring. Which is why Jamie had begun building a smaller house just on the edge of the property for us. He said that while he was Laird of Lallybroch, it didn’t mean we had to live in the house. I think he mostly wanted his privacy from all the coming and going of the bigger house.

I had to admit, it would be nice to get away from all the noise that a big house and all its servants and inhabitants brought along with it. Of course we still had three children of our own that made plenty of noises.

I was up at the smaller house now, it’d been a month since Brian was born and I wanted some fresh air. Jamie came out, his shirt covered in dirt and his face with it.

“My Sassenach,” he kissed me and then Brian. “My wee lad.”

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“Just wanted to get some fresh air and see how the house was coming along,” I smiled.

“I expect in the next couple weeks, it’ll be done and we can be in before the cold comes,” he said proudly and slid his arm around my waist.

“It’ll be beautiful, Jamie. I love it already,” I said and then passed Brian into his arms to give mine a break. “Did you ever think that when we first met, we would have all of this?”

“Och, nah.” Jamie smiled as he stroked Brian’s small cheek. “I was an outlaw when we first met, on the run. I never thought I would live to see the day I would return to Lallybroch, especially no as Laird.”

“And I never thought that I would marry that dirty highlander with a dislocated shoulder,” I smirked, crossing my arms.

“I’m glad ye did, Sassenach,” Jamie kissed me. “I remember that night like it twas yesterday, ye comin’ in wi’ Murtagh, dressed in yer shift wi’ yer wet curls drippin’ down.”

“You bloody scot!” I hit him on the arm, “You just wanted to see through my dress, even back then.”

“Aye, I did,” he laughed. “Ye were so bonny and the I’d never seen anyone as beautiful as ye, Sassenach. Can ye forgive me for wantin’ ye? Even then?”

I pressed my lips to his, then laid my head against his shoulder. “I forgive you. Only because I wanted you too, from the start.”

++++++

4 years ago….

The strange man I was with that had saved me from the English soldier — the same one that bared a striking resemblance to Frank — pushed open a door to a small cottage. Inside was a group of men, huddled around a fire.

They spoke a language I didn’t understand and I began to feel like I wasn’t entirely safe.

A man rose from the corner, pulling my arm aside to bring me closer to the fire, “Let’s have a look at ye, lass.”

“I trust you’re able to see me now,” I said, trying my best to hold myself together.

“What’s yer name?” he said with a thick Scottish accent.

I decided to keep using my maiden name. If they intended to ransom me, I didn’t want to lead them back to Frank. “Claire,” I said. “Claire Beauchamp.”

“Claire Beauchamp,” he said.

“That’s right! What the hell do y—“

“You said you found her?” He interrupted me, talking to the man who had brought me here.

“Aye,” the other man said. “She was havin’ words wi’ a certain Captain of Dragoons, wi’ whom we are acquainted.” He looked over at me, “There seemed to be some question as to whether the lady was or was not a whoor.”

“And what was the lady’s position in the discussion?”

“I am not!”

“We could put it to the test,” another man said from the corner.

“I don’t hold wi’ rape,” the man beside me said, but I found little comfort in his words. “We don’t have the time for it anyway.”

“Dougal,” the first man said, “I have no idea what she might be, but I’ll stake my best shot, she’s not a whoor.”

“We’ll puzzle that out later,” the man Dougal said and then went back to the fire behind me. “We’ve a good distance to go tonight, we must do somethin’ about Jamie first.”

Escape was my chief concern, but I had no idea where I was and trying to find the road back to Inverness in the gathering darkness felt like a fool’s errand.

All the men had crowded around a man with red hair.

“It’s the joint, poor bugger. Ye canna ride wi’ it like that can ye?”

“It hurts enough sittin’ still, I couldna manage a horse,” the injured man said.

“I don’t mean to be leavin’ him behind.”

“There’s no help for it then,” another man said, “I’ll have to force the joint back.”

The wisest course of action would have been to keep my head down, my mouth shut and wait for the search parties Frank must have sent out by now. But I couldn’t stand there and do nothing as I watched these grubby highland men surround the injured one, starting to pull on his arm while he choked down ale.

“Don’t you dare!” I rushed forward and the pulled their knives on me. “Stand aside at once, you’ll break his arm if you do it like that!”

They all just looked at me as if they’d never heard a woman speak before, “You have to get the bone of the upper arm in the correct position before it slips back into joint.” The man Dougal moved aside to let me attend to the injured man.

He was covered in blood and sweat and I laid my hands gently on his arm, he winced slightly.

“Hold him steady,” I said to the men behind him and then looked at the red haired man, nodding once to let him know I was about to do it. I moved his forearm, twisting it and he let out a groan, “This is the worst part.”

He nodded, breathing heavily as I then took his arm and pushed it back into place.

“Taing Dhia!” He said, looking up at me. “It doesna hurt anymore.”

“It will,” I said checking his arm. “It’ll be tender for about a week, you’ll need a sling.”

“You,” I nodded to a man nearby, “Fetch me a long piece of cloth or a belt!”

“Fetch me she says,” he mocked me. “Did ye hear that lads?”

“Give her yer belt…” Dougal said.

“Takin’ a guess ye’ve done this before?” the red haired man I heard referred to as Jamie, said.

I nodded, my arm still holding onto his, “I’m a nurse.” Sets of eyes drifted down to my breasts, “Not a wet nurse!”

I took the belt from the man, wrapping it around Jamie’s arm. “You mustn’t move the joint for two or three days. When you begin to use it again, go very slowly at first. Stop at once if it hurts. And use warm compresses on it daily.”

“Alright,” I hooked the belt, “How does that feel?”

“Better,” Jamie smiled. “Thank ye.”

“Can ye ride?” Dougal said, tossing him his jacket.

“Aye,” Jamie said, still looking up at me.

“Good, we’re leavin’.”

We all made out way outside, now dark and raining. Jamie followed behind me and I looked out at the dark night, “Where is it? Where is the city? It should be visible from here…”

“Inverness?” Jamie said, nodding forward. “Yer lookin’ straight at it.”

There were no electric lights as far as the eye could see, so as much as my rational mind rebelled against the idea — I knew in my heart, I was no longer in the 20th century.

“Get yerself up,” Dougal came behind me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards Jamie’s horse that he was already seated upon. “You be sure to stay close to the rest of us and should ye try anythin’ else, I shall slit yer throat for ye. Do ye understand me?”

I nodded, scared out of my mind. “Give me yer foot,” he said and hoisted me up onto Jamie’s horse. I sat in front of him, feeling his warm solid chest behind me. He moved around me, pressing against me, “Careful. What are you trying to do?”

“Get my plaid to cover ye,” he said. “Yer shiverin’,” Jamie said softly as he pulled the plaid around both of us.

“Thank you, but I’m fine really.”

“Yer shakin’ so hard, it’s makin’ my teeth rattle,” he laughed. “The plaid will keep us both warm, but I canna do it one handed. Can ye reach?”

I reached behind me, helping Jamie to cover us. I was thankful for the plaid he had and for the heat his body was emanating — he was like a furnace and for the first time that day, I began to feel safe, sitting here in his arms.

“No need to freeze before sun up,” he said.

“Sun up? You mean we’ll be riding all night?”

“All night,” he confirmed. “And the next one too, I reckon.”

We set off, moving further and further away from Inverness — from Frank and from my once chance of returning to where I had come from. All through the night, I felt Jamie’s arms wrapped around me and had to admit to myself that it felt quite nice. He was big, much bigger than Frank and I felt protected.

I found myself in a strange time, still trying to figure out just when that was.

“Are ye alright, lass?” Jamie said some hours later.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” I said. “Just where are we going anyways?”

“Och, we’re goin’ to Castle Leoch, still a days ride away.”

“Castle Leoch?”

“Aye, ye know it?”

“Sort of,” I replied. I had been there with Frank only yesterday and it seemed odd to be going there again, only this time alone and perhaps in a different century.

As the night went on and the sun began to come up, I found that my companion was still holding me tight to him — not that there was anywhere else to go. Thoughts of Frank were slipping from my mind as the cold seeped into my bones. At one point, I thought I felt something hard against my lower back, but shook my head, it couldn’t be.

But if I was honest with myself, the man, Jamie was quite handsome and more than once I had drifted off to sleep in his arms, finding myself dreaming of him in ways I shouldn’t have.

No matter where I was, or what century I found myself in — all I knew was that I wanted Jamie, this strange highlander by my side at all times. For when I was with him, I felt safe and protected — as if he would let no harm come to me and my well being. I barely knew him and yet I trusted him completely.

The End. <3

[wafflesetc]

All I want for Christmas is You (previously) Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you to @kkruml​ and @missclairebelle​ for always fixing what needs the most work. I love you both.

Claire December 18th

“It’s been two days, Geillis.” I shook my head as I shoved the burger into my mouth. “He hasn’t called or said a damn thing.”

My favorite nurse sat across from me and laughed. “Dinna be speakin’ wi’ yer mouth full!”

“Mmphmm.” I mumbled continuing to chew on my lunch.

“It’s nearing the end of the year, ye’ve been on call almost nonstop-” She started, but I narrowed my eyes at her. “And there’s the new quarter comin’ up, ye both are in a busy season. Tis also the holidays…”

Swallowing and taking a sip of my water, I relished in my drunken choices from the night.

“Ye regret it then?” I could see the raise of her brow.

“No.” The words escaped my mouth faster than I could realize and my stomach dropped. I had yet to willingly admit to myself, let alone another human.

“Ye really like him, then?” I could see the devilish grin appear on her face.

I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair. “He’s not so bad, if you can see past the ego, the hair, and his overly melodramatic approach to marketing.”

“So, if he were to ask ye on a date, say today sometime, what would ye say?”

“I think I’d say yes…..” I nearly whispered. “I think.”

“Well, if anyone can warm that cold heart of yers, Dr. Beauchamp, I think it would be Jamie Fraser.”  She stood and strut off into the distance.

“Me too…” I could feel my cheeks rising as I spoke to no one but myself, “Truth is he already has.”

Jamie December 18th

The best perk to being the marketing department’s heartthrob? Knowing people in the right places. He had never intended to become the heartthrob- but selling the hospital to donors and politicians, the wining and dining, the galas, the meetings- it just sort of happened.

He quickly smiled at Mrs. Fitzgibbons and thanked her for checking the on-call list for the next three days, making a mental note to order her a bouquet of flowers as thank you.

“I’m rooting for ye, laddie.” She winked at him, “I’m rooting for ye! She’s the best doctor in this hospital, and my favorite. Dinna be spreading that rumor around, ye ken?”

“I ken.” His Scottish accent thick on the words, “But I am rooting for me too.”

“Also James, dinna break her heart. Ye break her heart and she surely will break yers.”

Jamie nodded and buttoned his suit jacket. “I heed yer warning, Mrs. Fitzgibbons.”

“Now, if ye’ll excuse me, I have to finish the instrument orders for next month.”

“And I have a doctor to track down.”

Claire December 19th

“A large hematoma…” I spoke into the dictation machine after I had finished rounding on my last patient for the night- then I was homeward bound. I was standing outside of the patient’s room and could feel the ache in my feet.

“Sassenach,” I could feel his breath on my neck and my mind registered the voice instantly, “Do ye have a minute?”

“Yes, Mr. Fraser…” I started in my professional voice as I did a quick scan of the hallway. Our eyes met and I knew my cheeks would flare up at any second, that damn delicate English skin. His eyes were warm and welcoming, the smile on his face wide and filled with nothing but dare I say hope. He had come a man on a mission- and I had a feeling I knew just what he wanted.

“Tis no one here, but you and me. And the patients, but Mr. Jones seems rather sedated.” He poked his head into the small crack of the door and I laughed. He smiled at my response and closed the door.

“What can I do for you, Jamie?” I felt my doctor facade fall away and leaned against the wall. I stashed my dictation machine in my pocket.

“I was wonderin’...” I could see the tips of his ears go red.I could feel the butterflies in my stomach, my heartbeat in my ears and my palms starting to sweat.  “I ken ye’re not on-call for the next two nights….”

“You stalked my schedule?” All of my nerves were right, he had come here to ask me exactly what I thought.

“No.” His cheeks flushed hot pink. “I inquired with a resource because every time I triedta find ye, ye were either in the A&E or the OR….”

“I’m a busy woman.”

“Exactly, but I was wondering..” He stopped and squinted his eyes, narrowing his cat like brow at me, making me weak in the knees with nerves. One of us had to be brave here, and I had a feeling it was going to be me.

“You were wondering if I might want to spend one of my off nights with you? Presumably a dinner date?” I raised my own brow at him and smiled, cocking my head to the side.

“Your presumption is correct. Say, tomorrow night? Eight o’clock?”

I took my pen out of my pocket and reached for his hand. I wrote my address on his palm. Somehow I thought my hands would have been shaking, my handwriting illegible, yet my surgeon’s hands remained at bay- steady and firm, writing in the neatest text I had ever had since grade school. What was making me so brave I didn’t know- this wasn’t something I usually did- but the small feeling of whatever it was between us bubbled in the atmosphere. Whatever it was, I never wanted it go away,

“See you then,” I flashed a warm smile and sauntered down the hallway, wondering who in the hell I was becoming.

Jamie December 20th

He had butterflies in his stomach the entire way to the restaurant.

Somehow she had known- she had seen through the bravado, the rumors, the facade he put up at work. Somehow she knew without even knowing him outside the confines of the hospital- somehow she knew just who he was.  She had known that first night- the way her hands had caressed his back, the way she had moved with him- it hadn’t been just a one night stand. It had been the meshing of two souls, and they had both felt the earth tilt on its axis that night.

She had worn jeans and a simple black v-neck, accompanied with a grey cardigan. He had worn something very similar and let out a small laugh when she joked at him, “We’re already looking like an old married couple.”

Her joke had minutely eased his nerves, but still, Jamie Fraser was on a date with the Dr. Beauchamp.

The small Italian place he had taken her to was perfect. The food was delicious. The company, beyond compare.

He watched her take the last bite of lasagna and chuckled.

“Wot?” Her voice was clipped and properly, utterly British.

“Ye eat with gusto,” He said softly, “I like watchin’ ye eat.”

“Food has been one of the only constants in my life. There when everyone else has left me.” He heard the double meaning in that sentence and felt a pang in his stomach. She’s a lonely lass.

“I ken how ye feel, after my Mam and brother died… It was just my sister and my Da… Then my Da died…”

He saw her wipe a tear from her eye.

“I had no idea,” the meek English voice admitted..

“I was but a lad, dinna fash. It made me who I was today, ye ken?” He tried to cover the heartache over with a bit of strength and bravado in his tone.

“I get it.” She nearly whispered, and by the sad look in her eyes, he knew in his gut she knew exactly what he was talking bout.

“My parents died when I was five. I was raised by my Uncle Lambert until he passed away while I was in medical school…” She swirled the wine in her glass and he saw her take a breath. The hesitation radiating from her made his heart tear into two.“Then Frank… But he cheated on me with his student. It’s been me through medical school and residency…”

Frank, he thought to himself. What a bastard. So she had definitely had her heart broken, more than once. He knew her even being willing to come to dinner was a large feat. Deep down, he too, knew the hurt of being alone. “My sister lives at the family home, in Lallybroch, near Inverness. I moved here to get away from all the memories. I couldna be in the place where all the hurt seemed to be.”

“We’re quite alike, aren’t we?” She looked up with whisky eyes to meet his blue.

“More so than either one of us cared to admit, before.”

He felt her hand under the table as she placed it on his thigh.

“I never believed what I heard. The rumors from the nurses… They are nurses, they like to talk.” She let out a small laugh and shook her head. “You’re not that kind of guy…” She took a breath and rested her head on her other hand that was on the table, “Appearances for marketing. Look a certain way, act a certain way, you have to sell a product. It doesn’t mean it’s who you are.”

“Ye saw right through it.”

“I did. I might not like the fact you chose to put up a show for the sake of business- but it’s not who you are at your core, Jamie Fraser.” His stomach dropped at the words that she admitted to him. He didn’t even have to try and fight to change his reputation in her eyes- he was just Jamie.

“Who am I then?” He asked.

“I’m figuring it out as I go.” She squeezed his thigh one more time- he could feel the warmth in his stomach well at the depth of emotions he was starting to feel for the woman in front of him.

“What it is between us, is it normal?” He placed his hand on hers.

“No… It isn’t usual.”  She answered as he intertwined their fingers, hoping to God he’d never have to let go.

[yukiwrites]

Unexpected, but Always Welcome

Thank you for the support as always, @breeachuu! This was so heartwarming to write, I hope you like it!

Summary: Surprised by the sudden pregnancy but not in the least displeased by it, Nidra, Henry and their family eagerly await for the day that their unexpected sibling will finally join them. What should they be called? Everything was so new it felt like it was the first time Nidra experienced being pregnant!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

_______________________________

Nidra had dropped the news of her unexpected pregnancy to all of her family at once -- receiving differing levels of excited responses.

Henry froze for a bit, processing the information as though he were Nidra herself while Meliodas and Cynthia both jumped to hug each other and chant 'another sibling's on the way!' before picking up their younger selves and squeezing them in a sibling hug. Meliodas then picked his mother up and twirled her around, laughing.

"Mother! I cannot believe it-- another sibling! I wonder how they will look like? What kind of things will they like to eat and do?"

"Most importantly-- what kinda mount will they use?!" Cynthia bumped into her brother excitedly. "Meli's the oldest out of our baby siblings but he's still too small to ride! I gotta make him graduate from the rocking pony to a real one soon! Then Baby Cyn... then our youngest sibling! I can't wait to teach them all how to mount!"

"And how to fly!" Meliodas added, placing their mother on the green grass below them. Henry finally got up and hit his closed fist on his open palm, as though finally figuring something out.

"We're gonna have to think up a name ourselves, nyaha! We didn't need to with you two since you already came with the names attached, but now... thinkin' time!"

"THAT'S your concern, Henry?" Nidra giggled, walking up to her husband with both arms open, their hug iminent.

Henry tenderly wrapped both arms around his wife's waist, already mindful of her pregnancy. He rested his face in the space between her shoulder and neck, breathing in her wild and familiar smell. "I mean, I knew I was gonna be a dad of four, but now there's another one comin'! I dunno how to react just yet. But 'least we're pros when it comes to going through pregnancies by now, ey?" He winked to his children behind his wife, both of which giggled and nodded in response.

"Leave it to us to take care of Mother, Father!" They saluted playfully, dissolving into laughter as their parents giggled in their intimate hug.

"Oh, I must let Robin know right away," Nidra commented after they've calmed down, both her and her husband resting under the shade as the children played in their draconic form right below. Meliodas popped his head from up the tree whence he rested, holding himself with his legs.

"I can fly you there, Mother! I know it is a bit early for you to take a break from long walks, but since I am here and so are you..." his voice trailed off with a smile.

The manakete chuckled softly, enjoying her husband's warmth and even breathing. "Oh, but I do so love to take walks, Meliodas. Would you not accompany me by foot instead? I am sure Lucina will love the surprise visit as well.

Meliodas shrugged, then let his legs go so as to turn around and fall on his feet, as though he were a cat, not a dragon. "Very well, Mother! Though it is turning rather late today; shall we go first thing in the morning instead?"

Nidra looked up to the horizon as the sun started to set itself towards it. "Indeed. Tomorrow will do, my Son. I do not want to spend the night away from your siblings, after all. It is such an important time for me to spend with my whole family." She lazily closed her eyes as Henry nodded above her, remembering the time she had been pregnant with Meli and what he had asked of her.

Meliodas smiled fondly, bowing to his Father before excusing himself to play with his siblings, leaving Henry to ruminate on his wife's unexpected pregnancy.

He was going to be a dad. Again! But this time he was so caught off guard he didn't even know how to react -- was this how every parent felt whenever they had a child coming? Every 'normal' parent, of course. Without time-travelling children.

He felt so very... elated! His heart was beating so fast it was a wonder Nidra managed to simply lay atop his chest without commenting on it, his mind going through so many stages of happiness he started to laugh by himself.

"I'm having a kid!" He exclaimed loudly, startling his wife awake.

Surprisingly, he was the one who was unable to sleep that night, much too excited to meet their surprise kid, despite knowing that they had a very long wait ahead of them. But instead of stressing over the lost sleep, he simply stared at his wife the whole night long, instead. He hugged her with differing levels of strength, poked her cheeks and caressed her back as well as sneaked a kiss here and there around her face, chest and belly, giddy to be able to do so once she was awake as well.

"This is so weird, but I like it." He whispered to himself as he placed one hand over his thumping heart. As if it wasn't great enough that he was able to form a family and finish his life-extending potion to stay with them for a long time to come -- he could actually look forward to meeting his youngest child with all the surprises that came with the job: how would they look like? Sound like? What color would their scales be? Would they rather ride than fly like Cynthia? Would they be sleepyheads like their Mother and younger siblings? Whose hair color would they inherit?

His mind was rushing and that felt so very natural. Before meeting Nidra, Henry never thought he would be able to feel so many... feelings! To be able to look forward so much to life instead of death!

And that was because they were married for over ten years! Imagine what a lifetime beside his wife would bring him, just imagine!

He couldn't tell when he finally fell back asleep, but once Nidra woke up, she wondered if her husband was having a nice dream for he smiled so widely it made her want to nip at his happy lips.

Nidra's excursion to the palace ended up being exactly that: She had planned on going with only Meliodas, and only for a fraction of the morning. But Henry was intent on going with her and, since the children couldn't be left alone (that included Cynthia as well, but she already had to go to work as a city guard so her siblings would actually be alone otherwise), the entire family went together instead.

Before leaving for work, Cynthia offered a ride to one of the kids, but was of course met with refusal from her Mother. She grumbled to work, wondering if time couldn't pass faster so her siblings would turn 10 years old already for her to start teaching them how to ride big horses.

The family crossed the busy city leisurely, though avoiding the busiest parts of the market and, by the end of the morning, they arrived at the castle safely.

"Meliodas?!" Lucina gasped loudly, surprised to see her friend visit uninvited. "I thought you would've joined Morgan in his expedition by now! What a surprise to see that you are still around." She smiled as they hugged. "Ah, Aunt Nidra and Henry are here as well. Welcome back."

Nidra smiled softly, feeling as though she had been welcomed to her second home. Which it was, in a sense. "Well met, Lucin-"

"I'm gonna have another sibling, Luci!" Meliodas blurted out, holding his friend by her shoulders, intent on spinning her around like he did with his mother on the previous day. "I'm afraid I won't be able to join Morgan and Laurent in their travels for just a while yet."

Lucina widened her eyes as a smile covered most of her face before Meliodas indeed twirled her around like he had planned. "Truly?! What wonderful news! We must get Mother!" She exclaimed mid-turn, utterly used to her friend's antics of twirling her around whenever he was overly excited.

"Meliodas!" Nidra warned, though a smile betrayed her. "I wanted Robin to be the first one to know, sheesh." She giggled, crossing her arms as Cyn and Meli ran to the hug, wanting to be tossed into the air as well.

The young manakete scratched the back of his head after placing his friend on the floor, lowering himself to catch one of his siblings for the child-throwing. "Ahaha, forgive me, Mother. I was much too excited to meet an entirely new sibling."

"Nyaha, you get me, boy!" Henry pointed to his son and chuckled. "Let's go to the nursery! I'm sure the kiddoes are gonna be happy to see their friends while you have your talk with Robin."

"Mhm," Nidra nodded fondly, caressing her flat stomach, longing for when it would grow its bump.

Robin met the news with the same surprise Lucina wore in her eyes, immediately remembering the talk they had during both of their terms, years ago.

"So you truly went through your plan to 'not stop' at four children, huh?" The Queen teased, enjoying how the manakete turned bright red.

"Robin!" She hissed in embarrassment, but quickly leaned back on the chair with a large smile. "Honestly, this is all so new and surprising! I can say that I am not as desperate as I was during my first pregnancy, but THIS time I know nothing of who's about to come!"

Robin sipped her tea, "just like when I was with Luci, hm?"

"Indeed." Nidra nodded, then snorted. "Well, just like anyone else outside our elite group, in truth. Knowing nothing of who's about to come, earnestly preparing for whoever they ought to become... Looking for baby names. Oh, the names!" She almost hugged herself in excitement. "However should we call them? I simply cannot even think!"

"This is a precious time for the couple," Robin smiled wisely, looking at the large painting they had commissioned of themselves and baby Luci a few months after she had been born. "It's a precious time that you must share together... The anxieties as well, of course."

Nidra pouted in thought, "Henry does seem more excitable after I've told him the news, as well. It's much too adorable... You wouldn't believe what he did..." she started gushing on about her husband, once again not noticing how fast time would slip by then whenever she and Robin started to catch up.

By the time they finished talking -- or rather, by the moment they realizing what time it actually was, they had to hurriedly say their goodbyes for Nidra wanted to spend as much time as she could in her nest with her family and Robin had Queenly duties to attend to.

The children, however, were knocked out cold -- they played with both Luci and Morgs as well as with Owi, young Brady, Ophy and Leon whose parents all had also come to visit.

On their way home, they all met with Cynthia as Henry carried Cyn on his arms and Meliodas piggybacked Meli. The pigtailed manakete gushed about how her day had been and how she had caught up with Owain and his wife during lunch time -- dutifully reporting about the coming of her newest sibling.

"Barely were the news out of my mouth, half the city already knows!" Nidra mused with a smile as they reached their home at the outskirts of the capitol, night covering them like a blanket.

"It's great news, Mother! I think you're the first one of the original Shepherds who had another kid other than the ones who came with us from the future!" Cynthia puffed her chest with pride, guiding her pegasus to its stable. "I can't wait to meet them!"

"Nyaha, you get me, girl!" Henry laughed, making sure to repeat the words he had said to Meliodas that very day. The older sibling threw his head back in laughter, his heart filled with warmth.

The excitement was palpable within the entire family! It would be a very eager and expectant term, that was for sure!

The topic of naming their child surfaced often, making both Nidra and Henry scratch their heads in thought. How DID their future versions name Meliodas and Cynthia in first place? All names Nidra could think of were either from important people she met in the past or made-up words with this or that meaning.

Henry came up with the strangest names as well, something between 'Ravenclaw' and 'Cawcrow', both of which were promptly rejected by all but Cynthia, who found them cool.

"If it is to include a raven related name, I might know one." Nidra commented one evening as her term reached its peak -- her belly was large enough for her to rest her arms on it. "It... I came up with it after remembering the story you told me about your mother. The one who raised you, I mean."

Henry's thin eyes widened, his mouth forming a very round "oh?".

"Wolfram." She said softly, caressing her stomach. For some reason, she felt exactly the same as she did during the late half of her first term -- which meant that she was entirely sure that her next baby would be a boy. Still, if it were a girl... "Or Wulfrun if it's a girl."

"I-" Henry was rendered speechless once again, the memories of the kind wolf who raised him softening his muscles, making him dissolve onto his wife's belly and place his ear over it. "Wolfie, eh? I like it. I like it so much, Ni-Ni." His voice shook, making Nidra feel her eyes burn with tears.

She caressed her husband's thin, white hair. "Wolfie..." she repeated the nickname, finding that it rang nicely in her tongue. "I can't wait to meet him. Our little Wolfie."

"Tomorrow-" Henry started, his throat lumping right after.

"Hm?" Nidra never stopped her caresses, giving her husband all the time he needed to express himself.

"Tomorrow, can we go into the forest? It's not the same one my... um, my mother lived in, but I kinda wanna leave, I dunno, a present for her."

"An offering?"

"... Yeah, something like that. It can be a dead animal for another animal to eat or whatevers, but I... just feel like I have to, y'know? To report to her that I'm doing well or something."

Nidra lifted her husband's face so as to place a kiss on his forehead. "Of course we can, Henry. I also want to introduce myself to her and apologize for taking so long."

The dark mage smiled, traces of tears filling at the edges of his eyes. "Mhm. Thanks again, Ni-Ni."

After surprisingly less time than usual, Nidra started feeling her birthing pains much earlier -- almost at the same time a normal human pregnancy. Instead of waiting for another three months for them to meet Wolfie, he decided to be born much earlier than intended, startling the entire family, Nidra most of all.

Though, strangely, she did not panic as much as she thought she would. If that had been her first pregnancy, she would probably need medical attention, but since it was her third delivery, she felt more confident.

That did not mean she didn't cry through the whole birthing and after, amused at how tiny her youngest baby was.

Wolfie was, obviously, the easiest baby to deliver -- Nidra's manakete body easily managed to safely birth the small half-dragon boy (Nidra almost yelled 'I knew it!' once he was confirmed to be one), though she still worried that he was much too small for a manakete baby.

He had Henry's thin eyes and a lung as powerful as Cyn's, despite being much, much smaller. This time, however, Henry shared Nidra's tears and sobbed quite a bit after finally seeing a baby that looked like him.

"See?! I told you I was born with my eyes like this!" He said between hiccups, making Nidra stop crying so she could laugh loudly at his remark.

Wolfram did not look like he had been born earlier than normal -- rather, it looked like he was born exactly when he needed to. He was a small baby, but nothing was wrong with him: he looked like his father and had the powerful cry of his sister. He was a true child of that family, and was as healthy as they come.

Truly, that was all that mattered.