#ive been busy with moving and stuff but things are mostly back to normal now so hopefully i will start posting/drawing again lol
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abysmal quality photos sorry. but here's an ocie and a kaz
#metal gear solid#revolver ocelot#kazuhira miller#ive been busy with moving and stuff but things are mostly back to normal now so hopefully i will start posting/drawing again lol#i tried to give kaz a more realistically 70s hairdo here...
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I usually play videogames with no audio cuz when I have it on I get easily bored. For example last month I started pokemon sword and tbh never played it with vol on and when I did that for the first time I was like “? Why the sounds are so annoying?”. Idk probably I’m weird but I get easily overwhelmed with sounds. It’s kinda funny because when I listen to music I listen to black metal/rock in general. But when I’m busy drawing things I like to listen to true crime podcasts. Yeah I’m one of those obsessed with serial killers cases.
And yeah, fear and hunger is just straight up hard. I was surprised the first time but I’m still trying to finish it (I want to die/hj). So far I’m loving sm hades! The character designs are so pretty? Ofc I like Dionysus the most, he was and still is my favorite icon. Just to ask, who’s your fav greek mythological figure? I’m curious. Personally I’m also extremely into the myth of Hyacinth the most. Probably I read too many graphic novels about him ahah. And! Are you perhaps also into egyptian mythology? Since I was a kid I was so obsessed with mummies and the first time I saw one I was so anxious lol.
When I was in school I also had problems at school, mostly because at the time I was the only emo kid and all my classmates were… normal? I liked to dress black, enjoyed spending time writing horror stories and I was a major creepypasta lover. But I genuinely sucked at oral tests. Probably you only had some random quizzes but where I live we also have oral ones. And I fucking hated to speak in front of people. So drawing during classes was a sort of stress relief to my anxiety! So I completely get you :(
This is funny but I always was extremely talented at singing, although at some point I started to find annoying to perform in front of people. And in general the idea of studying in theater looked “uncool” in my teen years. Now I completely changed opinion and I’m a musical fan lol. My family always tried to push me into trying this world in some ways through the years and only some months ago I finally decided to open up. It’s scary tho. You shouldn’t gave up your dreams. Realistically speaking you can start studying in the future if you really want to pursuit violin! ^^
What are you doing now? I hope everything’s going well! <3 -🩹
i always play with audio on since a lot of games i play have audio cues into it, but i understand sometimes the game sounds can be annoying
god me too, to all of the music and the true crime; i mainly liten to true crime at work tho or when im playing minecraft for some strange reason
it sounds like a pain but i so get that,,
my favorite always has been aphrodite and always will be <3
i used to be kinda an egyptian myth nerd but i would have to relearn a lot tbh
sometimes we had presentations tests so i think thats as close to relating with the oral tests but the rest i totally understand
my family is kinda controlling of what i do, if they dont like that i picked up a hobby or something they let me know, like cosplaying for example i find it really difficult because my dads a little creepy and my mom refuses to acknowledge or be arpund me if she notices that i am and its to the point that it becomes a really big problem in my house so now ive got like really expensive cosplays and o barely do it anymore to keep some peace in my house ueue when i move out ill probably pick up a lot of my old hobbies like cosplay, art, streaming, and music stuff maybe ill even pick back up baking who knows!
im still playing dead space tbh,, its so fun but i just asked my brother a steam question and he closed out of dead space so i just lost a good chunk of progress sigghhhh, i hope your days been going well too though :D tell me if you do anything fun <3
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okok hc or fic: reader was teiko’s “head” manager(?) and her talent was being a medic (if someone gets injured they’re back on the court in under a minute type thing) and training plans. suddenly momoi’s talent blooms, she starts working w/ everyone in the team (+ reader’s crush akashi) and people think she’s a better manager than reader. because of this, she overworks + collapses in front of her best friends kuroko + kise (don’t let akashi know yet i have plans for that 👀)
HELLO? YES OFFICER? I JUST FOUND A BANGER REQUEST RIGHT HERE? YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG AND SEXY IVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS🏃🏻♀️💨 part 2 here and part 3 here AND update: part 4 here
Akashi x Reader
[Teiko!manager Headcanons]
you had a knack of being a natural chiropractor in loosening up tense muscles instantly (for more fluid play) or easily putting in back dislocated joints
basically you have crackhands
in your free time as a hobby and a job as the “head manager” (that Akashi announced to the team himself), you’d often bury yourself in anatomy studies and gym plans on the internet and databases to review over Akashi’s team training routines to see if they were effective and safe; oftentimes, you’d return back with improved plans, and as time went on, Akashi entrusted you with creating the plans yourself completely
you took on the job so eagerly to impress the Teiko captain, if you were being honest to yourself
your enthusiasm even inspires Momoi, Teiko’s other manager, to work harder
no one in Teiko knows physiology better than you, and as expected, it was also your best subject along with health
Kise often looks at you in horror and respect at how you don’t cringe/flinch at the loud cracks resonating across the room or court when players come to you for instant relief (the origin story of how he came to call you (y/n)-cchi was the very fact that you manage to put back his dislocated shoulder in 3 seconds flat one game)
when Kuroko first joined the 1st-string, he was a walking magnet for injuries, and you ended up being there for him every single time… nosebleeds? check. sprained ankle? check. nausea from over exhaustion? check.
both you and Kuroko relish in the fact that everyone in the team can never understand how the both of you do some incredible things with your hands
both of you being quite dexterous, you both often teach each other your specialties for fun; it’s almost shocking to see Kuroko effortlessly loosening up a stress knot and you pulling off a well-done palm pass
you admit, you do juggle a lot of responsibilities… from being a makeshift nurse, to a chiropractor, to a budget gym coach, and even to being moral support
Momoi often reminds you to take breaks being the caring person that she is
you often showed her the ropes and tricks of being a manager, on top of your duties, and you find it really endearing that she’s so earnest in learning from you
even if you enjoyed doing what you do, part of the massive workload is to try to get into Akashi’s good graces
talking to him about basketball duties is easier to achieve than talking to him outside of the extracurricular
you might be a tad bit insecure about it; after all, what middle schooler is already so accomplished in academics, sports, and everything you could think of? wasn’t he also studying to take over his father’s company??
to you, who only starred as Teiko’s humble manager, it felt hard trying to establish common ground for conversation outside of basketball
so you stuck to working hard at your position, hoping that your work ethic would get his attention one day; you were a firm believer of actions over words, so you hoped your actions would come off as genuine
picture you and Momoi running across campus with stacks of papers for the team… it makes most of the teammates’ hearts melt at the sight
your work certainly got you praises from other teammates, but out of all players, Kise was the one who figured out your motive
you felt absolutely morbid; to think that Kise, of all people, would figure you out like the back of his hand
Kise being sweet as he is, offers to help you get with the captain but you merely prompted to threaten to break his arm if he spilled your crush to anyone else
“(y/n)-cchi… I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes, Kise?”
“It’s really cool that you’re working so tirelessly for the team, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason why you work so hard.”
“O-Of course I do! I want to see you guys all succeed!”
“Then I’m curious as to why you always look at Akashicchi—o-ow, ow, ow!! (y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! So can you please let go of my—ow!”
“H-How did you know?!”
“I-It was as obvious as day, (y/n)-cchi! I’m pretty sure even Kurokocchi found out about this before I did!”
“N-No way!!”
“Tell you what, I’m super duper knowledgeable in this stuff! You can count on me for this sort of advice—OW!”
spoiler alert: Kise was right in that Kuroko definitely noticed your attraction to Akashi before anyone else… he just never brought it up to you
one day, Kuroko comes up to you to whisper:
“(y/n)-san, have you realized that Akashi-kun has been observing you recently during practice?”
“W-Wait! Is he looking over here right now?”
“Not that I think. He’s occupied with the coach right now.”
“D-Do you think this is a good sign?”
Kuroko gives you a small smile before he replies, “I would like to think so. Keep working hard, (y/n)-san.”
and you do, you’re constantly on top of your game for the next season until Momoi suddenly gets more recognition for her “precognitive defense” skills
her newfound talent was extraordinary and never-before-seen, and her ability became more critical to Teiko’s victories than your own skills
you were happy and proud for her, because after all, her achievements were extremely deserving to be praised
it’s only when some 1st-string players started making offhand comments about how you weren’t really needed in the 1st-string and was more suited to the lower strings that placed seeds of doubt into you
these people would often compare you to Momoi in how she improved much more despite you being in the team for longer
there’s also talk about how your skills are more useful for 2nd-string and 3rd-string players because Momoi’s ability is already sufficient enough for Teiko’s starters
after all, how would a player even be injured if they can predict their opponents’ moves to avoid such incidents?
there’s also the fact that Akashi has been calling Momoi more frequently to research on upcoming teams for analytical data because her talent has become very useful to ensuring victory
the same peers and adults who gave you praise were the same people who began to ignore you or dismiss you; that being said, the collective change in attitude is definitely subtle enough that it would fly under most people’s radars
Kuroko was the first to notice and defend you against a small group of players who were bold enough to badmouth you in the gym
Kise would find out a little later about the somewhat unpleasant gossip about you and would pull the “no you” reverse card, returning back with MEANER underhanded comments that would send these shit talkers CRYING HOME (manga Kise strikes here unexpectedly eh?)
Murasakibara is someone who would be slightly uncomfortable with the gossip about you, especially since you’ve always been so helpful and kind to the team and himself; he’d either leave the room himself or easily scare them away with his looming height and presence without saying a single word when he enters the room “minding his own business”
Midorima is a bystander judging from how he’s reacted to the Teiko dynamic changes in the actual show // he, of course, wouldn’t like the nasty talk about you but would actually mind his own business, choosing to focus on himself and what he has to do to contribute to his team; he assumes that you would work hard the same way he is and let your contributions do the talking
now Akashi surprisingly wouldn’t hear much of the gossip, since his presence alone SHUTS them up and commit to their practices like normal; after all, it’s very clear that Akashi doesn’t tolerate this type of behavior in the team (example: Haizaki), and it’s more apparent that he wouldn’t hesitate to drop kick them out especially since he has a soft spot for you (which Kise never fails to bring this up to you, but you think he’s reaching too much into it) // TLDR; the teammates mostly have the common sense to not utter anything bad about you… maybe one kid would slip out and get punished for “bad sportsmanship,” but Akashi merely assumes that it’s just one bad apple and not necessarily… the many others as well
Aomine???? bro he ain’t even at practice wdym (HELPPP LMAOO) // jokes aside, if he catches wind of players shit-talking outside of the gym… say at the convenience store or when he’s walking home or something, well… they wouldn’t have a good time…
Momoi simply chastises the gossipers when they try to talk shit on you to make Momoi herself look good, and it leaves? such? a? horrible? taste? like, she wants to believe that they’re just really poor jokes and not what they really believe in, and the teammates merely reassure her that they’re just bad jokes and that they “wouldn’t do it again;” poor Momoi wholeheartedly believes them
the weird talks about Momoi being “the better manager” just signalled to you that you haven’t contributed enough to the team yet, and it motivated you to work even harder
oddly, you weren’t jealous of the fact that Momoi was receiving more positive attention than you
you were more afraid of the fact that you were going to get left behind, and this fear only tightened its hold on you when more teammates (who used to talk to you a lot) have changed their tunes when they speak with you now, compared to them talking to Momoi
and you felt that the Generation of Miracles would do the same too… including Akashi
it wasn’t an irrational fear for you because he’s already been calling Momoi a lot more frequently for help than you recently
so you even offered to mop the gym floors after practice, offered to stay later than usual to be the one to lock up the gym for anyone (cough, Kuroko) who wanted to practice whenever they wanted
at one point, you even tried to do what Momoi does: researching on upcoming teams and making your own predictions (that didn’t really work, and that cost you a few nights’ worth of sleep every single time)
not to mention that you still had regular school like any other student? you were the epitome of a mess
Kuroko was with you in the empty gym, you putting away the extra basketballs in the storage closet while he practiced his dribbling, until he heard a crash in there and a few basketballs rolled out the door
you collapsed right when you rolled in the basketball cart
POOR KUROKO HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO // he just tries to give you a piggyback ride as he abandons his plans of practice and tries to jog to the nearest local clinic
that’s where he bumped into Kise, who was heading home after an evening shoot when he saw the two of you
chaos ensue as Kise freaks out and Kuroko had to calm him down himself after answering the never-ending questions
at least the doctor there gave relieving news that you only collapsed from over-exhaustion and that the bruises from the fall were very faint
Kise makes a joke to Kuroko about, “What’s with you and (y/n)-cchi falling to the floor and fainting? You guys can’t be that alike.”
when you shortly regain consciousness, you were met with a… very stern Kuroko and Kise, who were both ready to hear your explanation and to scold you to oblivion
to your surprise, they were understanding; Kuroko understands the feeling of not being enough and working hard to meet other people’s expectations, and Kise understands the struggle of juggling multiple things in his schedule (come on, student, athlete, and model?)
they still scolded your ears off:
“(y/n)-san, you idiot. Why didn’t you ask anyone to help out?”
“That’s…”
“(y/n)-cchi, do you think we’re undependable?!”
“Er, no, that’s…”
you were still dizzy from the fall and the lack of proper sleep (and maybe nutrition if we’re being honest), and you were just a ball of stress
you kind of begged your best friends not to tell a SOUL to anyone about this incident, especially to Akashi… you didn’t want to look even more incapable in his eyes than you already were
they do agree on one condition: for you to take AT LEAST a day or two off school to completely recover and rest up (you reluctantly agree; besides how were you going to explain the bruises that can’t be covered to your peers?)
HELP WHY ARE KISE AND KUROKO THE BEST LIARS TOGETHER ON CAMPUS LITERALLY NO ONE SUSPECTS A THING… except Akashi, the ever sharp captain, felt something was amiss
especially since some Teiko players emanated a feeling of relief at the news of you not being here that day, or the next
Akashi would play detective sleuth and find out what’s really going on sooner or later
End Note: gonna cut this off here b/c I KNOW this anon got a juicy part two i FEEL IT
#kuroko no basket#knb x reader#knb#knb fic#knb fics#knb headcanons#knb teiko#teiko middle school#kuroko tetsuya#kurokocchi#kise ryota#kise ryouta#akashi seijuro#akashi x reader#akashi seijuro x reader#knb headcanon#midorima shintarou#midorima shintaro#momoi satsuki#aomine daiki#murasakibara atsushi
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Breakable Heaven (pt. IV) - p.l. dubois
part I part II part III
Oh my gosh, I seriously can’t believe this little series has come to an end. I’m so so happy with how it’s turned out, and want to thank anyone who’s stuck with Laurel and Pierre-Luc throughout this month. It’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever done, and it’s yours to enjoy now. Please please let me know what you think of this part, what you think about the series - getting anon comments is amazing, my inbox is always open, and I LOVE reading tags. Reblog if you like what I’m putting out, it helps me know that!
Warning: Smut (It’s light, but it’s there, so no one under 18 please!)
Part IV (7.8k)
September 23 (thurs)
Laurel was running through the Toronto airport, her carry-on bag bouncing on the tile behind her as she frantically searched for her gate. Thank God Air Canada domestic flew from the international terminal; her layover was only an hour and ten minutes and even more time had been shaved off by a departure delay in Montréal. She had forgotten that flights from Toronto cleared U.S. Customs in Canada, and if she hadn’t been able to skip the line and slap her American passport on a kiosk reader she would have almost certainly missed her connection.
No matter how many times Laurel had tried to insist on an economy ticket when she and Pierre were booking flights for her visits, he refused to cave. “They don’t include a checked bag in economy, but they do if you fly business,” he had said, shrugging, with a small smile on his face. “Baggage fees alone would make it pretty much a wash.” Laurel doubted that, and she doubted that she’d need a checked bag for a four-day trip, but her husband had made it clear that he wasn’t budging.
So needless to say, she was more than a little bit out of breath as she finally arrived at Gate F66, which was conveniently almost as far away from her arrival gate as humanly possible while still being in the same terminal. She handed her boarding pass and passport to the gate agent, smiling apologetically as she hurried down the jetbridge. It was barely past noon, but there was nothing in the world Laurel wanted more than to sleep. Maintaining a full-time schedule at the hospital while also trying to organize a trip to Columbus that lasted more than two days meant she had to switch shifts. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue; that week, however, the only open slot was the 12-hour overnight shift on Wednesday. Which meant that she’d been awake for some twenty hours straight, but almost all of that had been on her feet at work, or walking from the parking lot to the check-in counter in Montréal, or running through the halls of Pearson Airport in Toronto. She took her seat, half-listened to the safety briefing, and passed out as soon as her head hit the headrest.
Much to her chagrin, the flight itself was only just over an hour, and she was really only able to get in a generous nap before their descent into Ohio. Sitting in the second row, she exited the plane in record time, flicking her phone off of airplane mode and waiting for a text from Pierre-Luc. At least she didn’t have to go through TSA again. He wrote back in record time, letting her know he’d be in his car at the curb right outside the terminal. She waited at baggage claim, grabbing her forest green suitcase; the same one she had when she’d moved to Toronto for university, fresh-faced and 18 and so, so unaware of what the world had in store for her. If only she could see herself now. Laurel ran her thumb along the side handle for a moment, pulling at a loose thread, before hefting it onto the floor and turning towards the sliding exit doors.
As promised, Pierre was waiting right outside the door, flashing her a bright smile and throwing the driver’s side door open as soon as he saw her. “Welcome to Columbus, babe!” he exclaimed, wrapping Laurel into a deep hug and kissing her on the cheek.
She laughed as the trunk popped open, each of them grabbing a suitcase. “It’s a little bit funny, don’t you think? That I’ve lived in the Midwest for almost my whole life and the first time I go to Ohio it’s because I’m living in Canada?”
“Maybe just a little bit,” Pierre said, holding his thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. “I’m really happy you were able to come, though, Laurel. I got used to having you around.” His face was softer now, looking over at Laurel with an expression that wasn’t quite placable but seemed like it was somehow communicating so much in a single glance.
“Me too,” Laurel replied. The ride to Pierre’s Columbus apartment took just over ten minutes, and Laurel was in the door, petting the dogs, before the clock struck 3:00.
Pierre approached her from behind, his hands on her shoulders as he leaned around to kiss her on the cheek. “You want to take a nap?” he asked. “We’ve got that thing with the team at 7, and I know you’re probably running on fumes right now.”
Laurel nodded, giving him a weary smile, dropping her bag on the floor of the master bedroom with an all-too-satisfying thump. “Nap sounds good.”
---
The nap was good, so good, and Laurel woke up at half past 6 feeling like she’d just had the best sleep of her life. She yawned, rubbing her eyes, and looked around the room to see Pierre with his back towards her, buttoning up his shirt. He turned around, catching her eye, and grinned. “You like the view?” he asked, gesturing to his half-naked torso.
Laurel rolled her eyes, pulling the sheets up to poorly conceal her embarrassment at being caught. “And if I do?”
She heard a loud laugh, peeking her head out from under. “I’d say my wife has every right to appreciate it.” He walked around the bed while fastening the last few buttons, holding his hand out for Laurel to take. “I let you sleep as long as I could, but we’re going to have to get going in fifteen minutes or so. I was told that ‘we’ve waited this long to meet her, the least you could do is get your damn wife to the party in time,’” he said, adding air quotes for emphasis.
Laurel nodded, tossing back the covers and walking over to her suitcase, intending to rifle through the stacks of clothes to find something for the night’s festivities. Instead, she was greeted by an empty bag. She wheeled around to look at Pierre, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at her suitcase. “I unpacked your stuff,” he said, nodding over towards the spare dresser. “It’s in there. I’m sorry if that seems weird and I won’t do it again if you feel like that was pushing your boundaries, but I know for me when I’m on roadies I like to unpack, even if it’s just one night. Makes it feel more like home.”
Laurel was too overcome with how sweet the gesture was, small as it may have been, to realize that that meant he had touched four days worth of bras and underwear. It shouldn’t have bothered him anyways, and if he hadn’t said anything about it, it clearly hadn’t. So instead, she pulled him into a warm hug, standing on her tiptoes to bury her face in the crook of his neck. “Thank you, P. One less thing I have to do.”
“You do still have to actually get dressed, though,” he added, giving her sleepwear an appreciative once-over. “Unless you’re planning on wearing that.”
She let out a giggle. “As much as I love wearing a massive Cloquet High Lumberjacks t-shirt and no pants, somehow I don’t think that’s the move,” she said, ambling over towards the dresser. She found the tops on the first try, pulling out a wine-colored wrap shirt and grabbing the same pair of light-wash jeans she had worn on the plane. Pierre moved to duck out of the room, presumably to give her privacy to change. Laurel made a split-second decision to call after him. “You don’t have to leave.” Pierre stopped in his tracks.
Laurel slipped the shirt on, tying it in the front, and fastened her jeans. Mascara on and booties zippered, and she was good to go. “So what is this thing, anyways?” she asked Pierre as they drove to Foligno’s house.
Pierre tilted his head. “Little bit of this, little bit of that. Half the typical beginning-of-the-year preseason party, half the wedding reception we never had. They were very insistent on bringing gifts, so be prepared.”
“Will do,” she said, laughing. “And by they, you mean…”
“Some of the guys, but mostly the wives and girlfriends. Their parties are the stuff of legends, so you can imagine how excited everyone was when I told them we never had a proper reception.”
“But they don’t know why we didn’t have a proper party,” Laurel reminded him.
“About that…” Pierre started, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
Laurel froze, her thumb hovering over her phone screen, halfway through composing a text to Kristen. “Pierre,” she swallowed, her voice deadly soft, “did you tell someone?”
---
It was the Saturday before, and the team had gone out to celebrate the end of the first week of training camp. Sunday was an off day, so Saturday night found all the over-21s — and anyone who could get a good enough fake — at a bar in the city. Pierre had just crossed the line into tipsy, and as his captain was about to find out, tipsy Pierre was an oversharer. It was common enough for families to be a topic of discussion on nights out or in the locker room; that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that, as the old adage goes, drunk words are sober thoughts. And, if he was being honest, Pierre was still harboring some guilt from having to hide the truth of his and Laurel’s marriage from everyone, Nick included. Pierre hated that he couldn’t tell Nick the truth. He was his captain and his friend, and he felt the least he owed to him was not to lie.
“It’s just so weird being away from Laurel, away from Montréal, for this long,” Pierre sighed.
“Sure,” Nick said sympathetically, “but you said you’d been friends for a few years, so you’ve had feelings for her for a while, no? It’s obviously not ideal, but you’ve been away from her for longer.”
Pierre turned towards Nick, some of his beer — his fourth of the night — spilling out of the cup. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Nick rolled his eyes, thinking he was going to be hearing some dumb high school confession, that he had asked out a senior girl when he was a freshman, or filled his QMJHL captain’s gloves with shaving cream or something. He didn’t expect what he heard next.
“We got married so she could stay in the country, for her permanent residency. I never met her before June.”
Nick sucked in a breath. “You’re not fucking with me, are you?”
“Nope.”
“You realize how much trouble you guys could get into if they figure out, right?” he asked.
Pierre nodded, looking down at his clasped hands nervously. “We both do. But you’re not going to tell anyone, right?”
“No, of course not,” Nick said. “I trust you, and I know you and Laurel were just doing what you thought was the best and most logical thing given the circumstances.” Pierre let out a somber nod. “But,” he continued, “I feel like this whole...situation just leaves open the opportunity for things to get really messy really quickly.”
“Messy how?” Pierre asked.
Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking at a spot just beyond Pierre’s head. He didn’t want to, not really, but it was his job as Pierre’s captain — more importantly as his friend — to make him consider every angle. “Someone catching feelings, one of you falling for the other, or God forbid, someone else. There’s already so much at stake in a ‘normal’ marriage, but yours just has added complications.” Pierre felt a twinge in his heart. He didn’t want to admit it, he really didn’t want to admit it, but Nick was right. “Do you love her?” Nick asked softly.
Pierre sunk back into his chair. “I don’t know. She means a lot to me, more than I ever thought she would, but I don’t know. Plus, I have no clue how she feels about me, and I wouldn’t want to say something like that only to have her pull away.”
“Did you guys talk about that?” he asked.
“About what?” Pierre responded.
“About what would happen if one of you caught feelings. Because I’m assuming it was supposed to, is supposed to, be a strictly platonic thing.”
Pierre shrugged. “Not really. We didn’t like make a pact or anything, if that’s what you’re asking. We really didn’t talk much about it at all,” he said, finishing his beer. “I mean, obviously we agreed that we wouldn’t be seeing anyone else, dating or hooking up or anything like that. It was just too risky. But no, we never really addressed how we’d deal with it if one of us ended up...falling for each other. I guess it was just supposed to be a ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’ type of thing.”
“And have you come to it?” Nick asked.
“I don’t know.”
---
Pierre finished the story, hazarding a glance over to Laurel, who was wringing her hands as she looked out the windshield. “I’m not mad at you,” she said finally. “If Nick said he wouldn’t tell, I trust you when you say he won’t. One of us was bound to let it slip eventually.”
He turned his eyes back towards the road, still feeling a pang of regret. She was almost being too good to him. “We’ll be okay,” he said, saying it just as much to himself as he did to her.
Laurel gave him a small smile as they pulled into the Foligno’s house, parking on the stone-paved driveway. “We will be.”
Janelle opened the door practically the second after they knocked, greeting Pierre and Laurel with warm hugs. “Laurel, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she said, squeezing her hand. “We know how hard it is to find the time off and make the trip down, and everyone’s excited to see you.” She led them through the entryway to the living room, where Laurel was passed around to some twenty-odd players and their partners, where she introduced herself over and over again as “Pierre’s wife, yes the nurse from Minnesota who none of you knew existed.”
Dinner was a barbeque outside, Nick, Pierre, and some of the others manning the three grills as Laurel helped set up the drinks table. He held her hand under the table as they ate, his thumb gently rubbing across her thigh every so often in reassurance. “You good?” he murmured in his ear as Laurel sipped a beer, half-listening to some story Korpi was telling about a near-miss incident with a water ski back in Finland during the summer.
Laurel nodded, squeezing his fingers. “I’m good.”
Plates were cleared, dishes were washed, and everyone was herded into Nick and Janelle’s enormous family room, where a small mountain of wrapped boxes and bags sat in the far corner. “I don’t know if you know this,” Janelle said conspiratorially as Laurel sat down, “but NHLers make more than a little money.”
She laughed. “So I’ve been told.”
“Which means that, clueless though they may be, you’re going to be getting some very nice presents.”
And very nice presents they were. A wine club membership, a set of dutch ovens from Seth — “It was my mom’s suggestion” — Jones, an espresso machine from Boone, a set of matching, personalized dog bowls for Phil, Georgia, and Piper. Laurel honestly wasn’t sure how it was all going to fit in the car, let alone how she was going to manage to stay under the baggage limit on her way back to Canada, but the thought and kindness that went into each gift was what really made it special.
“From me and the other girls,” Janelle said, passing Laurel a bag.
“Oh, this is too much,” Laurel said. “You already got the knives and the mixer, I don’t need anything else.”
Cam’s wife, Natalie, shrugged. “Would it help if we made it, didn’t buy it?”
Laurel’s brow furrowed in confusion, her fingers moving to undo the ribbon that tied the handles together, taking out the tissue paper. “Oh!” she gasped quietly as she pulled out a denim jacket, a Blue Jackets logo ironed onto the back, Dubois embroidered where a name bar would be. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“You’re still a part of the family,” Natalie said, smiling. “Even if you’re not here all the time. We want you to feel as included as anyone else.”
Laurel folded up the jacket carefully, tucking it back in the bag as Josh walked up to Pierre, holding out a small box, clearly wrapped by himself. “Well now I just feel silly.”
Pierre shook his head, smiling at his friend. “Don’t, Josh. I’m sure we’ll love it.” He thumbed open the folds on the wrapping paper, setting it aside before pulling off the top of the box. He fell silent.
Laurel peeked over, trying to catch a glimpse of the box’s contents. “What is it, P?”
Instead of answering, Pierre just held the box upside-down. Condoms of all colors and sizes rained down onto the hardwood floor as Pierre stared at Josh, clearly trying very hard not to laugh. The side of his mouth twitched. “Interesting choice of gift, you don’t think?” he asked.
Josh shrugged helplessly, his cheeks red. “It’s practical?”
November 28 (sun)
Laurel caught every Blue Jackets game she could on the TV, even the ones in early November when Pierre was out for a few games with a mild concussion. She was his wife, but she was also a nurse, and made sure to get daily updates on his condition, restraining herself from FaceTiming him to help limit his amount of daily screen time. But he had been back for a few weeks, making second star of the night with a goal and an assist, so naturally he was pulled away for a few postgame interviews.
Laurel watched the screen, trying not to get distracted by the sweat drenching his Underarmour. Reporters, the good ones at least, were usually considerate with steering clear of asking personal questions, but sometimes an injury, or the birth of a child, or, as luck would have it, a wedding, begged an answer. “So, Pierre, I think a lot of us were surprised to see you announce on Instagram that you had gotten married this summer. Congratulations, by the way,” the journalist from the Dispatch said.
“Thanks,” Pierre replied, smiling.
“And I hope I speak for everyone here when saying that we entirely respect you and your wife’s decision to keep things quiet and announce it in a much more subdued fashion than usual. Players often speak a lot about how integral support from family and friends is, and just how important it is to have that kind of a support system in place.” Pierre could see where the question was going. “Obviously you’ve got the boys down here, but it doesn’t look like your wife Laurel is based in Columbus like you are. Is there a reason for that, and do you think that’s affected your game?”
Pierre sucked in a breath; it was a fair question, and a reasonable assumption to make, but that didn’t mean he liked answering it any more. But it was almost suspicious how quickly he had an answer. “Uh, yeah, it’s been interesting for us to have to navigate. You’re right, Laurel’s back in Montréal, she spends most of her time at our place in the city. She’s a nurse in the intensive care unit of CHU Saint-Justine, so she does pediatrics there. She loves what she does, and she’s so good at it, and it just wouldn’t be right of me to ever ask or expect her to leave on my account. I know we’ve got a great hospital at Nationwide Children’s, but she loves where she is. We both do. So yeah, it’s rough being away sometimes, but luckily she’s able to move shifts around and make it down twice a month or so when we’re not on the road. But we keep in contact daily, obviously, and I’m able to lean on the guys, especially the other married ones, on how to deal with the stress of being away for so long. But it’s rough. I miss my wife,” Pierre finished.
Laurel clicked the remote, turning the TV off, her hand scratching behind Piper’s ears, and tried not to replay his words in her mind as she crawled into bed and fell asleep.
December 18 (sat)
Laurel stumbled through the door of Pierre’s Columbus apartment, laughing breathlessly as she tried to lock the deadbolt. “You need some help there, L?” Pierre asked, raising one eyebrow.
“I’m good,” Laurel said, taking two more tries before it would actually lock. The eggnog from the Christmas party was starting to take its toll; Pierre had agreed to be the pair’s designated driver for the night, so she had had maybe a glass too many. The night had genuinely been so much fun, Laurel had initially been worried at how well she might fit in with the group in a more casual situation. As much as she loved being able to hang out with the team and the other WAGs when she was in Ohio — and she did — she couldn’t help but be nervous that she didn’t have the same level of camaraderie that could help turn a night from good to great. Laurel couldn’t have been happier to be wrong. She was embraced from the moment she walked in the door, a glass of wine pushed into her hand and her Secret Santa gift deposited on the entryway table.
Laurel used to always roll her eyes at the idea that “time flies when you’re having fun,” but that couldn’t have been more true for the party. It seemed like only minutes had passed, but suddenly it was almost midnight, and the couples with kids had to head home to relieve the babysitters, and Laurel and Pierre were headed home.
“Let’s get some water in you, no?” Pierre murmured, walking to the kitchen and opening the cupboard.
“Thanks,” Laurel said softly as she took the glass from him, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her on the couch.
Pierre perched on the arm, absentmindedly playing with his watch. But while a tipsy Pierre was an oversharer, a tipsy Laurel was always emotional in one fashion or another. “How’d you like the party?”
“It was great,” Laurel said. “I’m not sure why Alexandre thought I’d be into a Blue Jackets scarf, but I guess it’s the thought that counts?” She pulled the offending object out of her bag, running her fingers through the fringe on the edge. “Seeing how amazing so many of those couples are, Janelle and Nick especially, it was awesome…” She trailed off. “But it was hard.”
His brow furrowed. Why would it be hard? “How so?”
“I always thought that, when I got married, it would be once and that was it.” She screwed her eyes shut. “And that’s not to mean I’m not grateful for what you’ve done, it’s so incredible and goes so far beyond just plain kindness. I just thought it would be a forever thing.”
Pierre’s heart dropped. Of course she’d feel like that. If marriage was something she wanted to take that seriously, how could she not feel like she was cheapening its meaning by treating it as nothing more than an arrangement of convenience? It wasn’t even like he felt any differently; hockey was obviously still his first priority most of the time, but he’d always seen himself as someone who wanted to settle down and have a family one day. He guessed that he just hadn’t let himself think about it. “Laurel,” he said quietly, reaching out to her. But she wasn’t done.
“It’s just,” Laurel sighed, one hand tugging on her hair, tears threatening to escape her eyes, “knowing this is all temporary. Knowing that in a couple of y-years, when I g-get my citizenship and we get d-divorced, this is all going to end,” she said, hiccuping through her words. “I won’t be able to come to your Christmas parties and fly down for games and sit up in the WAG box with my friends and that jacket and a jersey with your name on it. I won’t be able to do any of that any more because it wasn’t real, it wasn’t ever real, and that fucking kills me inside, P.” Laurel sat on the corner of the couch, a spot as precarious as the words tumbling out of her mouth.
“Why?” Pierre asked, even though if he was honest, he’d stake his career on the belief that he already knew the answer. “Why would it hurt so bad?” His voice was so quiet that if Laurel hadn’t been sitting two feet away, she wouldn’t have heard.
“Because I’m fucking in love with you,” she whispered. “And that’s the single most terrifying sentence I’ve ever said in my life.” Even though Pierre somehow knew that’s what she was going to say all along, it didn’t stop her words from stealing the breath out of his lungs. Laurel looked up at him through her tears, her eyes beginning to redden. “Say something, please, P.”
Pierre knelt in front of her, his thumb resting gently on her cheek, wiping away her tears. “God, Laur, how could I not be in love with you?” She blinked rapidly at him, trying to process the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. You’re so caring, not just for me, but for everyone in your life. You’d give a stranger the shirt off of your back. You’re probably the smartest person I know, way smarter than me.” A giggle escaped Laurel’s mouth. “The dedication you show to everything in your life is amazing. At your job, you treat every patient like they were your own sibling or your own child. You make the trip down to Columbus once a month, twice a month. That’s not easy, all the flight time and having to leave Piper and switching shifts around so we can see each other. You’re gorgeous, not just on the outside — though you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen — but the light in your eyes when you talk about a new book you read, or how happy you look when you let me taste a new recipe you’re trying, or how passionate you get when you see something wrong and know there’s something you need to do to change it. So what if we’re doing things a little backwards? First comes marriage, then comes love.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I fell in love with you awhile ago. I think it just took me a second to realize it.”
January 26 (wed)
Laurel thought the distance and space between them would be easier now that she knew how he felt, now that they both knew how they felt. She couldn’t have been more wrong. So the All-Star break, and the Blue Jackets’ bye week, couldn’t have come at a better time. Pierre had made plans for the break a few months earlier, but after everything that happened over Christmas, it didn’t seem right to ditch Laurel for a boy’s trip with Alexandre and Seth. So Hilton Head was traded in for Saint Lucia, and his teammates were traded in for his wife. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Laurel was using three of her paid vacation days and Pierre was able to make the schedule work just right to get five nights in the Carribean. “A belated honeymoon, if you will,” he had said, cracking a grin over FaceTime as they booked the flights. The flight from Columbus was much less straightforward than hers from Montréal, but by a chance airline scheduling his first layover was in Toronto. Laurel met him at the gate, hauling her own green suitcase behind her as he flung his arms around her, kissing her with everything he had in him. They may have missed the not-so-subtle fans taking pictures that later circulated around Twitter that may or may not have led to some grade A chirping in the team’s group chat. But Pierre didn’t care. He cared that for a few days, he could forget about the stress of hockey and trying to make a playoff run and all the rumors floating around and just be with his wife. And, Pierre thought as they walked through the airport door into the Carribean sun, there really wasn’t anything else he wanted.
They hailed a taxi, the twenty minute drive to their resort rushing by in a blur of palm trees and seas so blue Laurel thought she could fall into them just by looking. Pierre jogged into the main office to check them in, coming back with their key cards before the taxi continued on its way, dropping them off in front of their villa. Laurel spun slowly as they got out of the car, smiling up at the sky as Pierre pressed a few bills into the taxi driver’s hand with a nod of thanks. “You okay there?” he asked with a grin.
“It’s so warm,” Laurel said in wonderment. Even in January, the weather in Saint Lucia hovered in the mid-70s, a far cry from the twenties and teens of a Montréal winter. Laurel was no stranger to the cold — Cloquet had seen temperatures pushing thirty below when Laurel was in high school — but the idea that she could be somewhere and wear shorts while it was snowing in her hometown was a concept so novel she hadn’t quite grasped it yet.
He nodded, looking at Laurel with a gaze so soft she thought her heart would maybe burst. “We’re in the Caribbean, L. It’s warm all the time.”
She rolled her eyes, bending over to get her suitcase, but not before Pierre snatched it up himself, holding the key card between two fingers. “Are you going to just stand there, or do you want to check out our honeymoon suite?” Laurel’s words dripped with suggestiveness, her sandal-clad feet dragging their way up the path to the villa with tantalizing languor.
“Coming.”
Even after the six months of their marriage, and even after everything that happened over the holidays, they hadn’t had sex. They’d gotten close a few times, both on her trip in December and in ones since, but never managed to go all the way. First Laurel needed a new birth control prescription — the last thing she would do would be have sex without being extra safe about it — and then she was too tired after a night out, and another time Pierre had scored a hat trick and they had partied way too hard to even think about sex. So needless to say, it had been a while for Laurel since she’d gotten release by any hands other than her own, and even longer for Pierre. And it certainly wasn’t because she didn’t want to. Laurel was well aware that her husband was hot as fuck, and she’d be lying if some of her lonelier nights weren’t filled with thoughts of exactly what she wanted him to do to her. But it felt different than any of her other relationships. Obviously, it felt different, she hadn’t been married to Oliver or Ryan or Carter. And that didn’t mean she wasn’t invested in those, but just that the stakes were so much higher and she had fallen so much harder for Pierre than she ever thought imaginable. She didn’t want to have sex with him until she was sure. Sure that it was going somewhere, sure that it would last, sure that he loved her in the same way that made her heart ache every time he dropped her off at Columbus International Airport.
---
By the time they had unpacked, eaten, and gotten a few rum punches in their system, it was well past 7 and the sun had long since set. Laurel peeked out the door onto their balcony, nodding at the private plunge pool. “We’ve got quite the setup here.”
She walked over to the dresser, grabbing a swimsuit out and crossing over to the bathroom, her hand hovering over the knob. “Just something to think about.” Pierre put his swim trunks on in record time. Laurel padded out of the bathroom, the top straps of her bikini dangling, the swell of her breasts peeking above the cups. “Do me up?” she asked.
Pierre’s fingers brushed the baby hairs at the base of her neck as he tied the straps of her white-hot bikini. “Sure you don’t want to go out to the beach?”
Their villa came with a stretch of beachfront, and it seemed like such a shame to let it go to waste. Laurel shook her head, a smile playing on the edge of her lips. “We’ve got a couple of days to enjoy the beach. I’d like to stay somewhere a little more...secluded.” She bit her lip as she opened the door to the balcony, dipping her toes in the pool and sighing at the warmth of the water. Laurel looked back at Pierre, one eyebrow raised. “You coming?” Pierre couldn’t follow fast enough.
They stayed in the water for a while, lazily kissing and staring at the stars and sipping drinks that had lost their potency hours ago, but neither of them really cared much. Sometime during the night, Laurel had made her way onto Pierre’s lap, where she reached over to the balcony, lofting herself out of the pool and wrapping a scarf around her body. “Getting a little cold,” she said, bending down and giving him a soft kisss. She walked into the room, drying herself off; he followed. Laurel threw the towel over a chair in the corner of the room, walking over towards Pierre, stopping when their noses were almost touching.
Laurel’s wrap fell from her shoulders, pooling on the wood floor. Pierre’s hand skated up her arm to rest on her cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She stood on her tiptoes as her left hand tangled in his hair, her right pressed against the back of his neck. She whimpered into his mouth; it took everything in Pierre’s power to keep the blood from rushing south. The kiss got more frantic, tongue and teeth clashing against each other as he walked her back to the bed. The back of her knees bumped up against the edge.
Pierre pulled away slightly, letting out a moan as he saw Laurel’s face. Her lips were puffy from kissing, her chest heaving with the force of her breath, and her wild hair had long since been taken out of its ponytail. In other words, Pierre was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that Laurel, in that moment, was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “You sure you want to do this?” Pierre murmured. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But he’d never do anything without making sure that she was absolutely comfortable. Laurel nodded, biting her lip. “I need to hear you say it, babe,” Pierre said, taking a step forward, their noses almost touching.
“I want you to ruin me.”
Pierre audibly groaned, capturing her lips in his before throwing her back on the bed, his hand moving to her back to undo the tie of her bikini top as his lips trailed down her neck. He threw the top off to one side, paying exactly zero attention to where it landed, as his hands slid up her waist to cup her breasts, his thumbs ghosting over her sensitive nipples. Laurel’s breath hitched in her throat. “You like that, baby?”
“Mhm,” Laurel whimpered, unable to form a complete sentence.
He smirked, lowering his mouth to her chest, flicking his tongue over her right nipple as his hand pinched her left. The air was filled with breathless sighs from them both until Pierre’s hands left her breasts. Laurel whined in protest until she felt his fingers toying with her bikini bottoms, his head lifting just enough so that his eyes could meet hers. “This okay?”
It was all Laurel could do to choke out a single word. “Please.”
Pierre pulled them down her legs, kissing down, down to her hips, down to her inner thighs, down to everywhere except for where she needed him. “You need something, Laurel?” Pierre asked, his voice dripping with sex.
Laurel groaned, not wanting to give in but also knowing that Pierre could stay where he was for hours if it meant teasing her. “Your mouth.”
“As you wish.” And then his tongue was on her, and in her, and she couldn’t help but let out a moan. And Pierre was loving every second of it. He stayed down there for a while, long enough to finish her twice.
Laurel pushed on his shoulder, trying to get him to turn on his back so she could return the favor. Pierre shook his head as he shucked his shorts off, pulling her head down to kiss her roughly. “I’m going to cum right here if I don’t get inside you in the next two minutes, babe.” He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom. “Guess I’ll have to thank Josh for these when we get back home.”
She raised one eyebrow, clearly unamused. “If you do that, I can promise you I’ll never put your dick in my mouth. Not now, not ever.”
Pierre held his hands up in surrender, the foil packet shining between two fingers. “Alright, alright. I won’t.” He paused just before bringing the wrapper up to his teeth. “You want this?”
Laurel nodded frantically as he rolled the condom down his length. He looked so hard it was painful. “So bad.” He leaned down to kiss her, propped up on one arm as he pushed into her, hair falling into his face as he closed his eyes. He was too blissed out to be able to focus on anything other than how good she felt around him, how tight and warm and how well she fit, like Laurel Elizabeth Klerken was made for him and him alone.
“More,” Laurel cried softly, and that was all it took for Pierre to grab one of her legs, throwing it around his hips as he increased his pace, head dropping to her neck as he nipped at her pulse points. It didn’t take long for Pierre to reach his high, Laurel right behind him. He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead before getting up from the bed, going into the bathroom to tie off the condom and grab a washcloth. He cleaned up between her legs as Laurel lay there, trying to steady her breathing, absolutely spent from the night’s three orgasms. “Why didn’t we do that earlier?” Laurel murmured.
Pierre laughed, throwing the cloth in the laundry basket and tilting down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I don’t know. But it was worth it.”
February 20 (mon)
Laurel had learned early on in her relationship with Pierre that she couldn’t put much stock into what was said on Twitter. Or Instagram, or any social media for that matter. So much was speculation: about draft picks, about trade rumors, about Pierre-Luc Dubois’ secret wife, that it just wasn’t useful or healthy for her so spend much time looking around. She still had her accounts, but Instagram was the only one she went on with any regularity nowadays. And she rarely checked her phone during the work day anyways; unless it was an unusually slow day — which was never a good sign in the medical world — the only time she was even able to spare a glance was during her lunch break or when she’d run to the bathroom. So when her phone buzzed with a text from Pierre as she sat at the nurses’ station, her brow furrowed as she unlocked the screen.
Are you free right now? I need to call you.
Laurel bit her lip, nerves threatening to boil over. He knew her schedule, he knew she was at work. What could be so important that it couldn’t wait? Are you okay? Did something happen?
He typed a response as soon as her text showed as delivered. I’m not hurt, it’s not bad, really, I just need to tell you something and I don’t want to have to do it over text.
Laurel checked her watch. 11:18. It was early for a lunch break, but as long as she wasn’t needed, she could take her half hour any time between 11 and 1. She caught the eye of her charge nurse. “Claudette? I’m taking my lunch if that’s alright with you.” Claudette nodded, and Laurel quickly made her way to the locker room to grab her leftover pasta, texting Pierre on the way. Headed to the changing room now. Are you going to tell me what this is about?
Her phone rang a minute later, when she had just closed the door. She tapped the green button. “You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on here, P, because I’m kind of freaking out,” Laurel said, laughing nervously. “You don’t tell a girl what to expect, she starts assuming the worst.”
Pierre let out a heavy breath. She could imagine him running a hand through his hair on the other end. “I know, and I’m sorry if I worried you. I just needed to tell you before it breaks.”
“Before what breaks, Pierre?” Laurel’s anxiety was coming to a head.
“I’m coming home.”
Laurel screwed her eyes shut, even more confused than she was before. “Yeah, Pierre, I know you’re playing here next week. Why would that be news?”
“When’s the trade deadline, Laurel?”
“Last Monday in February, but I don’t see what that has…” She pulled the phone away from her ear, looking down at the screen, eyes locking on the date. “You got traded?”
She could imagine him sitting down on the edge of his couch, one hand dangling off the side, Georgia trying to jump up and goad him into giving her a pet or two. “They’re breaking it right before the noon deadline, but you deserved to know before everyone else did. You needed to know.”
Laurel leaned up against her locker, hand over her mouth. “You’re coming to Montréal?” She had seen it mentioned offhand on a few Twitter accounts she followed the handful of times she had logged on in the past week, but nobody thought it would actually happen. Even the concept of trading him seemed so far-fetched with the type of season he was having in Columbus. He was sitting near 30 goals and 40 assists, with one of the best plus-minus scores on the team. It just didn’t make sense.
“As of twenty minutes ago, I’m officially a Montréal Canadien,” Pierre answered.
“Oh God,” Laurel said, sympathy lacing her voice. She couldn’t let herself be excited, wouldn’t let herself be excited, until she knew exactly how Pierre felt about it. He had just been uprooted from the team that drafted him, where he’d played for four seasons and made friends and where everyone saw him as the future of the franchise.
Pierre let out a single laugh. “They let me know what the deal was, apparently Montréal really wanted me. First round pick next year, a second-year defenseman, some prospect from Laval.”
Laurel settled on the bench, tucking the phone under her chin. “Of course they really wanted you, P. You’re an incredible player, you’d be an asset to any team and you’re going to do great things in Montréal.” She paused. “But how are you feeling about the move? I know it’s not what you were expecting. Or what anyone was expecting, really.”
“It’s weird,” Pierre said after a moment. “Obviously yeah, I won’t lie, it’s a shock. But almost every player, even the really good ones, get traded at one point or another. Gretzky was traded to L.A.”
“Are you comparing yourself to Gretzky?” Laurel asked playfully.
“No,” Pierre chuckled. “But just trying to remind myself that it was almost inevitable. I’m allowed to be sad about it — and I am, it’s going to fucking suck leaving the boys — but I’m not as torn up as I thought I’d be if this ever happened.” He felt more than a little bad about it, but his first thought when his agent called and broke the news wasn’t sadness, it wasn’t despair at having to leave the team he had been brought up in and the men he considered his brothers. It was relief. Relief that he could be closer to his family, relief that he’d be back with Laurel, relief that he was going home. “And hey,” he said, catching Laurel’s attention. “You know what?”
Laurel rolled her eyes. “What?”
“I don’t even have to marry someone to move.”
---
Pierre’s flight got in late Tuesday night, just after Laurel’s shift at the hospital had ended. He had said he wouldn’t mind taking an Uber home so she didn’t have to rush over and stress about traffic, but Laurel didn’t care. She wanted to be at the airport to pick up her husband, even if it meant she’d still be in her scrubs doing it.
She saw him exiting the sliding doors of the international terminal before she even turned the corner, practically slamming her car into park as soon as she hit the curb. Pierre dropped his bags when her car door opened, paying no attention to the thump of the suitcases as they hit the ground or the wandering eyes of passersby. Airports hadn’t always been his favorite place. They meant leaving the people he loved, going away from what was warm and familiar and safe. They usually meant uncertainty. But that had changed, Pierre thought, as his wife jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as their lips met. Airports might just have become one of his favorite places. He pulled back from the kiss, their foreheads just barely touching. “Hi,” he said.
Laurel smiled, the kind of smile that lit up rooms and made crying babies giggle and that Pierre was pretty sure was his favorite thing he’d ever seen in the world. “Welcome home.”
#hockey imagine#pierre luc dubois#hockey smut#hockey imagines#hockey writing#hockey#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl smut#nhl writing#nhl#Pierre-Luc Dubois#pierre-luc dubois imagine#columbus blue jackets
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Hanako's Halloween Part Two (hanako x reader)
by @hanakoforever
"Hanako you can put me down now." You were still blushing, but you weren't tired. All these butterflies are making you energetic.
"You sure?" Hanako asked as you ventured through the not-so-scary haunted house.
"Hanako." Yashiro said.
"fInE." he put you down, a smirk on his face.
"So where are we?" Kou asked.
"Wait Kou I thought you knew...." Yashiro said.
"No Yashiro it was definetly you who was supposed to be keeping track." Hanako said.
"Hanako you were supposed to remember." You say.
"How was I going to keep track when I was busy holding you?" Hanako asked.
"Maybe it was Y/n who was keeping track??" Kou asked.
"Don't you start blaming y/n!" Hanako said. You blushed.
"I think none of us were supposed to and we just assumed someone else was doing it." Yashiro explained.
"seems like something i'd do." you say.
"Well how are we going to get out now?!" Kou asked.
"Let's just look around. This place isn't that creepy..." You lied. Now that you were technically trapped, it was turning into a nightmare. "But let's not-"
"let's split up!" Hanako said.
"No!" Everyone besides Hanako shouted immediately.
"C'mon we'll cover more ground!" Hanako insisted. Everyone shook their heads. "It'll be fun." Everyone shook their heads. "I'm a ghost no one's going to get hurt." Everyone hesitated, but then shook their heads once more. " Okay how about we make tiny teams and THEN we can search around?"
"Uhm...alright I guess that's okay." You say. "We have our phones so we can just text each other!"
".....I don't know....." Yashiro said shakily.
"Don't worry, Senpai I'll protect you!" Kou said.
"let's do this!" Hanako cheered. "Kou with Yashiro and I'll go with Y/n!"
"So we'll go left you two go right." Yashiro sighed. "yeah we-let's do this."
. . . . . . . .
"Y/n I've gotta be honest this is funny." Hanako hummed as he examined all the decorations. The house had huge rooms with ceilings like 45 feet up and the wood was molding and dark brown. This room looked like a restaurant with 10 tables with white tables and one weird bench. And of course it was covered with spider webs and normal Halloween decor. Pretty creepy stuff.
"It's freaky." You correct him.
"No it isn't. It's funny." Hanako said. "Look at this ghost." He pointed to an old fashioned ghost (like the mostly oval with the triangles at the end with two eyes and an o mouth) and floated over to it. "do I look anything like this ghost? Any resemblance?" You giggled. "People these days think ghosts are just ovals."
"well also you need to think that this decoration was obviously made by a kindergartener." You walked over to Hanako.
"They might as well be nice and just make a cat or something." he blew some of his choppy bangs out of his face.
"I bet when you were a kid you made these." You say.
"Mhm I didn't like Halloween that much."
"WHAT?!?" Halloween was your favorite holiday. It beat Christmas and your birthday. You took his hand and took him over a creepy looking bench where you put your candy. "You didn't like trick or treating with your friends?!?"
"I usually only went with Tsukasa since....I wasn't very social." Hanako sat down with me.
"what about the scary and funny decorations hanging everywhere?" You ask. "Like this creepy bench. It's so-" You were interrupted by a vibration that made you jump. "haha see-wait a minute-" The bench was vibrating. The screws that held it down to the ground started to unscrew themselves. "Sh*t Hanako what are you doing?!"
"I'm not doing anything! If you let me continue, I was about to say how the spirits are stronger during Halloween!!" Hanako said. He didn't get off the bench since you were too scared to.
"Wait this place is actually-..." You felt the crushing feeling that you only get on Halloween. This place. Was actually. Haunted. You tried to get off, but the bench scooped you back up. The screws were unscrewed completely. Then it shot up in the air along with all the other decorations. "AHHH HANAKO WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!" You still sat in the bench, but the bench was floating around.
"I SAID I DON'T KNOW!!" we heard another scream from the other room.
"I THINK KOU AND YASHIRO ARE IN TROUBLE!!!" You cried out. "GO CHECK ON THEM!!!"
"YOU SURE YOU'LL BE OKAY?!!?" Hanako was still worried about you. Adorable.
"NO BUT WE STILL NEED TO CHECK ON THEM AND CLEARLY ONE OF US CAN'T CHECK." the bench started to rotate. "JUST BE QUICK OKAY?!"
"ALRIGHT." He started to leave the room, but turned around for a moment and said, "I LOVE YOU!" then left.
...............
20 minutes later, Hanako still hasn't returned and you couldn't jump off the stupid bench because if you did you'd probably hurt yourself. (plus it was the only thing you felt you could cling to). You wanted to jump to a table, but you were worried that you would fall and die. But you need to find Hanako and the gang. Decision time. You were a Chidi(from the good place. ive been watching a whole lot of that lol) when it came to decisions.
"Okay, Y/n, you can do this. The options are: Stay here or go find your friends. Now you-wait oh I'm so stupid." You pulled out your phone. You started to type password when your phone went black. Of course. Ghosts don't like technology. "Okay now we only have one choice: go find your friends."
You took a breath, and stood up on the bench. This was insane. Stupid. But it was the right thing to do. The closet table wasn't that far off. Like two or three feet. Still a jump that you'll have to run before you jump. You backed up, then ran. You jumped to the table, but the goddamn table moved away and your fingers slipped. And that was when you screamed louder than you ever had before. And we all know who's voice you called as you fell.
"HANAKO-KUN!"
#hanako x reader#hanakoxreader#tbhkfanfic#tbhk fanfic#jshk fanfic#jshkfanfic#hanako x reader: Hanako's halloween part two#tbhk#jshk#hanakoforever
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Won't You Cut Down That Apple Tree For Me?
Peter slept until he was awoken by a painful ache and burning feeling in his stomach, and he curled tighter into himself to try and avoid it.
He distantly remembered his time with Mag, how the few times he got sick, he was treated with a mix of soft comforts and angry lectures about how he was wasting time, how he’d never get anywhere like this.
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TW FOR VOMITING AND IMPLIED CHILD ABUSE
god I love my crime moms
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Peter was an intelligent man.
He had to be, his entire life career depending on it.
His career also depended on him being constantly ready to go, always nimble, and on his feet.
So when he woke up to a chest and head filled with cotton, he knew he had to file it away if he wanted to stay on the Carte Blanche.
He looked into the mirror over the sink, his face was a sickening pale with a violent flush over his cheeks, and dark rings under his eyes.
He sighed, it was gonna be a long day, they had a debrief planned for a heist, not until the next week, which he hoped whatever this was would clear up by then.
It was later than he usually got up, meaning almost everyone was up, Jet was usually already up by now, Vespa and Buddy woke up shortly after him, Rita was up around the same time as he was, and Juno slept the latest, not waking up for an hour or so after Rita, meaning he had about half an hour before his lady woke up.
He quickly got his makeup out, and speedily did it, namely ignoring the slight burning he felt from it, his skin did always get sensitive with fevers.
His body ached, more so than usual, a doctor had once described it as a condition which caused his nerves to fire near constantly, leaving him in constant pain, sometimes worse than other times.
He knew that, realistically, the illness would make the pain worse, meaning it would be harder to hide both conditions from the crew as he had been doing.
Juno had only found his cane, which he refused to use, once, when he was sleeping in Nureyev’s cabin while looking for an extra blanket due to the chilliness of the Carte Blanche, and Peter was able to brush it off as something from an old disguise and a joke about old age.
Juno seemed to believe him, and for that he was thankful.
With his makeup done, he quietly slipped back into his cabin, where Juno laid sleeping sound, to grab his clothing, choosing a comfortable button-down and a pair of loose-fitting dress pants, much more laid back than his usual attire, and he prayed it wouldn’t turn any heads.
Peter ran his hand through his hair, ignoring the heat he felt on his own head, and he stepped out of his room, slowly and painfully making his way to the kitchen.
“Good morning Peter, you’re up later than usual. Is everything alright?”
Buddy didn’t sound worried, probably just assumed he was slacking off.
“My apologies, Captain, I’m doing well.”
He was distantly aware he didn’t make much sense, but the layer of fog between him and everyone else made it a bit difficult to actually care.
Buddy nodded, but Peter noted that Vespa didn’t look convinced, understandable saying she was the ship’s Doctor of sorts.
He felt arms wrap around his stomach, and his lady rest his head against his back, still heavy with sleep.
“Goodmornin Mista Steel and Mista Ransom!”
Rita, energetic as always, bounced into the kitchen and sat on a stool at the table, and Jet placed a coffee before her, overloaded with cream and sugar, just how she liked it.
His beloved groaned into his back and nuzzled his dave further into his back.
“You both seem tired today, have a fun night?”
Juno groaned, and peter laughed softy, not having the energy to formulate a reply, and Juno slipped away quietly, sitting next to Rita as Jet handed him his own coffee, and Peter only mourned the loss of contact momentarily.
He sat next to Juno, and Jet handed him his usual drink of choice, which was a herbal tea with ungodly amounts of honey.
He smiled at the kind man, who nodded back gently, never one for expressions.
A shiver ran through him as he grasped the hot mug, and he hoped that no one saw it, all while the residential doctor was staring bullets through him.
Everyone split up after that, knowing they’d need to remeet for dinner and the debrief and a part of Peter wasn’t sure he’d make it that long.
He was shaken out of his thoughts by Juno, who was saying something but it wasn’t really touching his brain.
“Nureyev, what’s wrong with you today?”
Ah, so Juno was perhaps noticing something.
“Nothing, my dear, just a little tired.”
Juno didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it.
Peter excused himself quietly to practice his newest identity for the heist, but realistically he was just planning on sleeping the time until the debrief away.
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Peter slept until he was awoken by a painful ache and burning feeling in his stomach, and he curled tighter into himself to try and avoid it.
He distantly remembered his time with Mag, how the few times he got sick, he was treated with a mix of soft comforts and angry lectures about how he was wasting time, how he’d never get anywhere like this.
He desperately tried to file these thoughts away, but was unable to, the images of Mags disappointed face, shifting into his bloodied body-
Peter whimpered and drew his blanket into his face, trying best he could to ignore the pain and ignore the crying he heard in his head.
The next thing he knew he was hanging over the side of his bed, heaving up a mix of his breakfast and bile, and he cried realizing what was happening.
He knew his attempts to move would make things worse, so he curled into a ball under the light blanket on his bed, and let himself fall into a fitful sleep.
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Juno knew something was off with Peter, and as a detective, he was going to get to the bottom of it.
He made an internal list, Peter seemed to have woken up later than normal, and when he had hugged him, his skin seemed unnaturally hot.
Nureyev was ill.
Probably very ill, from the looks of it.
Juno sighed and ran his hands through this hair, he was never the best at taking care of people.
When he was young and Ben was ill, he spent most of it worriedly pacing by his bedside and doing what ben did for him, and stealing from stores when he needed something.
The one time Rita was ill, she was predictably good at caring for herself, only needing him to go and get some stuff from the store for her, which he did and possibly went overboard.
And when he was ill, and anyone would take care of him, it was Rita.
Even when he was with Diamond, Rita would always know, he came into work anyway but she’d be sure to take care of him there, and ask if he wanted to stay with her instead of Diamond.
He paced nervously around his room, thinking about what to do.
He could go into Nureyev's room and demand he admits he was ill right now, or he could be strategic, even though that involved letting the thief burn himself out some until he let his guard down.
He painfully decided the ladder might be the best option, and in an attempt to distract himself, he hung out with Rita, watching streams and ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest.
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It was dinner time on the Carte Blanche, and everyone was gathered in the kitchen.
Everyone except Peter.
Juno’s stomach dropped when he realized Peter wasn’t there, and he made eye contact with the rest of the crew, except for Jet who was pointedly avoiding it.
After a few seconds, a loud crash was heard from down the hallway, and within seconds they were all running down the hall to where it was.
Juno wasn’t usually the fastest runner, but when his love may have been involved he was incredibly fast, which is why he and Jet got there first.
Juno’s heart froze when he saw Nureyev, shaking and pale, in a pile of his own sick and covered in it unable to move.
Juno was hard to scare, but this did it for him.
“Fuck”
He crouched next to the ill thief, avoiding the pile of sick, and the ex-detective could feel the heat from him without even touching him.
Juno gathered his boyfriend into his arms as Vespa, Buddy and Rita ran into the room, Rita and Buddy stopping next to Jet, and Vespa joining Juno at Peter’s side.
“Fuck, he’s burning up.”
Vespa growled, as she held Peter’s limp wrist, checking for a pulse and temperature.
“I knew something was off why didn’t the idiot just tell us.”
Vespa was angry, understandably, she was a medic and she had threatened them all in the past if they kept something from her.
“Vespa, dear, why don’t we just take him down to the medbay and yell at him later on.”
Jet carried Peter to the medbay, where he was hooked up to an IV for hydration and given fever reducers, all by a grumbling Vespa, while Juno sat worriedly nearby.
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Juno sat next to the thief’s bed, him having been moved back into his room after it had been cleaned, mostly due to the more comfortable bed.
It has been a long day and Juno was beyond exhausted, Nureyev was still asleep, not having moved since they found him.
“J’no?”
The ex-detective bolted up from where he was falling asleep, against his will, and looked around before his eye landed on the thief.
“Peter, oh thank god.”
Juno shifted, sitting on the side of the bed and running his hands through his love’s hair, checking his temperature and offering comfort.
“Hi, love, how do you feel?”
The sick man looked around, confused, and tired.
“What happen’d?”
Juno’s heart broke at the confusion and pain his boyfriend was in, a tenderness he didn’t know he was cable of feeling until today washed over him.
“You got sick, baby, we had to take you to the medbay and you have an IV, why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling well?”
Peter leaned into Juno’s hand, which was now on his cheek, and a look of guilt washed over him.
“Di’nt wanna bother you, busy and all that.”
Juno wiped a tear that slipped down Peter’s face, and leaned in to kiss his forehead.
“Baby, you’re always more important then anything we’re working on, I don’t care if you’re just a little sick, I wanna know so I can help you.”
Peter still looked guilty, and Juno slipped his slippers off, and climbed into the bed with the thief.
“Vespa will probably be by soon to check on you, you gave all of us a scare.”
As if on cue, someone knocked on the door and it opened to reveal Buddy, Vespa, Rita, and Jet standing behind it, Vespa with her medical kit, Buddy holding a tray of tea, Rita with snacks, and Jet with a stack of blankets and pillows.
“Hello darlings, we thought we’d keep you some company, some family time, hm?”
Vespa walked over, angry as always, and looked over the thief, who lay confused and half asleep, after a few moments, her posture eased and she moved to take out the IV.
Jet set the pillows and blankets on the ground, and Rita quickly organized them all into a pile, after safely handing the snacks to Jet, and Buddy set the tea on the nightstand, pouring a cup for everyone and adding honey to Peter’s.
She and her wife then sat in some chairs in the room, and Rita turned on the streams, and Peter fell asleep surrounded by his family.
#the penumbra podcast#sickfic#tpp sickfic#vomiting cw#peter nureyev#juno steel#sick peter nureyev#hurt/comfort#whump
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mmmm…. i have new thoughts about my ex and i’s situation.
i know i have rambled on here in the past about them. often bitterly and angrily. to be honest, those words came from a place of immense hurt and betrayal. a lot of pain and a lot of complex emotions that i needed to vent out and process. and the way i did this previously was… rather embarrassing and harmful and not good for anyone. but it has been a long year, and i have had much to think about. and my brain does not like to process many of these things in a normal way. i often just use this blog as a place to barf out my thoughts at random so i can work out whats going on in my mind. this doesnt excuse it but i hope it allows for some understanding.
its been a long time since my ex and i broke up. and i just… idk didnt know how to deal properly. but i think about them a lot. obviously. what you see is mostly the negatives. the frustrations and the confusions and the residual aches and pains. mostly because these are what im trying best to understand. i want to understand them, i want to understand their perspective. it frustrates me when i cant understand, and it frustrates me more when i feel as if they couldnt understand me or didnt even try. but i still care for them greatly. which is why i get frustrated. i do not think many people understand this. i want to understand why they hurt me. i want to understand how i hurt them. i want to learn and grow. but to do that i also have to experience and process the anger and frustration i felt towards them. this is what you all see when i ramble and rant.
anyway this is the last time im doing this publicly because honestly this is a stupid way to process stuff this and i figured out something way better. also im just. tired of it. im tired of being angry and being hurt. that doesnt mean itll stop but. yall wont be seeing it.
i still hold many of my previous thoughts and criticisms of them. and i still consider many of these valid and fair. and i still deny ever doing many of the things they accused me of because ive spoken with other people about them - people actually involved in the situation(s), and they have supported and corroborated my side of the story as well as my feelings regarding those various situations.
however i have come to some realizations that i think allow me to better understand parts of their side of it all.
ive realized some things about myself and how my mind functions that have lead me to other realizations. these realizations include that i misunderstood a lot of things they were trying to get me to do, tools they were trying to get me to employ, things that actually would have been helpful to me had i understood. i see now that in some of the cases they were pushing me on and making me extremely uncomfortable with, that they were genuinely trying to be helpful because they cared. because they were trying to help me just as i was trying to help them.
the problem here is that i was not ready for, and did not understand a lot of the new things being pushed at me. much of what they were trying to get me to engage with were therapy techniques and stuff to learn to cope better. unfortunately due to a lot of previous bad experiences with therapy and such techniques i am extremely adverse to and suspicious of therapy and therapeutic settings/techniques. combined with a lot of new information about myself that i needed time to adjust to and process. a lot of it scared me and i needed them to slow down and be gentler with me in this rather than throwing me in the deep end and expecting me to swim.
i misunderstood a lot of the tools they were trying to offer me - how to use them properly and why. i thought i made this obvious that i didnt understand a lot of it and in fact didnt want to engage with a lot of it outright - even though i was willing to try. the issue is i also needed a good example or instruction of what they wanted from me and… well. they did their best, this i know they tried, but it was not enough for me to understand what they really wanted from me.
i now understand that this is likely why they grew frustrated with me. and this also factors into something that ive come to realize and understand about myself - in fact its one of the things they criticized about me most… ive come to understand the true nature of what the thing i did that they hated most was actually. and ive since worked out a solution to it that actually has been shown to be far more effective and efficient in doing what the thing they were criticizing me about most was doing. this took a lot of work and a long time for me to come to the realization of what it was that i needed to do and how it worked. and i needed to be allowed to make this discovery on my own time, at my own pace to be able to accept it as part of how i work.
unfortunately due to a lot of things, i was also quite terrible to them myself. and i recognize this. i recognized it before - i tried my best to fix my understanding of it but i did not know what i didnt know. i did not know, and did not understand, what i now know and understand. but much of my actions were because i was scared, confused, uncomfortable, and dealing with a whole lot of shit outside of our relationship. and i am genuinely and truly remorseful for what i did. i was remorseful back then, and i still am now. i did some bad things and i know this. i speak of it vaguely here because honestly while im just shouting to the void i still know this is a public blog and theres a chance people will actually read this and frankly. i consider it none of their business unless they were involved. i did lash out at them, and i did treat them unfairly.
however i still feel as if they refuse to acknowledge my point of view in much of this, as well as that they lashed out at me and have refused to acknowledge and apologize for it all. i have never heard them say the words “im sorry” for any of the things i consider the worst things they did to me. much of the time they refused to even acknowledge the fact that a lot of it hurt me despite me outright stating such. they also refused to acknowledge that i had repeatedly tried to assert my own boundaries with them and refused to accept a new boundary when it was drawn.
they did a lot of terrible things to me in return. including things that they, themself, accused me of doing to them initially. i still deny these accusations and consider myself completely innocent (at worst, should my own memory really be that faulty, i consider myself only having caused a huge misunderstanding among friends as well as having accidentally fucking up something that left out important context). i feel this way because they would not produce any evidence to prove to me my own actions that would negate the memories i myself actually have as well as the evidence in support of my side of the case that i have. all they could provide was testimony from a person who would not have had direct access to either side of the conversation that they are alleging happened a certain way. a conversation that i, personally, was half of. a conversation that i spoke with the other half about again, after showing them what i was being accused of, who also verified my recollection of the events.
i feel as if they refuse to even consider my perspective. i felt this way for a good amount of the relationship, and i still feel this way. i feel that they refused to communicate with me and ensure that both of us completely understood the other. i feel that they refused to be considerate of my needs and respectful towards me as a person after a certain point. i feel as if they refused to work to compromise with me on many situations, and i feel that they often tried to demand of me many things that were unreasonable, and that they often moved goalposts or failed to deliver on their end of the deal when i still bent over backwards to do something for them.
however. i do also feel that at some point in time, they did genuinely care for me. and i do feel like i would like to apologize for the new places where i realize i caused them undue stress and frustration.
but i also feel that they would not accept this apology for those parts that i now recognize my own hand in without me accepting and apologizing for the narrative that i know is false. additionally… i do not feel as if they would accept or apologize for any of their own parts in the situation. i still feel theyre likely to reject that they hurt me very very deeply, and badly in return.
as much as i would like to start the conversation of potentially working out the issues and reconnecting as friends… i still feel as if they would view this as an impossibility. because i feel they view me as something of a monster, and not as someone who was under immense amounts of stress and pressure and was very confused and scared for months on end.
i recognize its very likely their feelings echo my own. except for the portion about potentially being friends again… i feel as if this is a forgone conclusion to them that it will not be happening.
all this said…
i also want to say this. in hindsight they were right about the tool they gave to me for one of my specific issues. the one they gave me before the start of it all. the one i was extremely adverse to accepting and trying to adapt to. i did not understand what its actual purpose was for at the time, nor did i understand how they actually meant for me to use it. because of some recent things ive learned about myself, as well as have been able to actually accept, i now understand what they meant. and ill admit that they were right about this one. its really helpful now that i understand what i was supposed to do with it.
they were right and i was wrong. simple as. at least, in regards to this one thing.
#chrono speaks#griff talks about his ex#for the final time anyway#this is all for me tbh#just cuz its helping me to come to terms with some stuff and feel more at peace with things#i dont think theyll see it#they never looked at my blog anyway before#just ive been doing a lot of introspection and thinking and you guys only see a portion of it all and not even my real like#level headed thoughts on things
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LA Devotee - Part XV
Warnings: a hint of phone sex?, cussing, drinking
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: Emily has a sleepover with Mikayla to keep herself occupied while Calum is on tour.
A/N: I’M SORRY I’M LATE, but since I’m still wake, IT’S STILL SATURDAY. I hope you all enjoy, this is one of my favorite chapters. 🥰🥰💖💖(Feedback and requests are always welcomed!!! Want to be tagged? Let me know!)
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV
Masterlist
Trevor dropped Mikayla off at work on Friday morning, an overnight bag in tow. Just as quickly as she walked into the office I walked her out so she could drop her bag into my car. I looked at my keys as we walked together and I thought back to when I had asked Calum if Mikayla could stay the night. When I had asked him, he made it a point to act like I had asked him the most incredibly silly question he had ever heard. “I know how lonely that house can get, I don’t blame you for wanting her to come over,” were his exact words.
After work, Mikayla followed me out to the parking garage, both pairs of heels clacking on the ground and echoing through the garage. I looked up as I unlocked Calum’s car, I wasn’t sure why, but there was something inside me that made me want to drive his car, maybe it was because it smelled like him. “Is it weird being in his house alone?” Mikayla asked me after we had been silent as I pulled out of the parking garage, and turned onto the main road.
I shrugged and concentrated on the road in front of me. “Kind of,” My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel as I thought about how much I actually miss him. “It’s weird not waking up next to him, or falling asleep next to him. I guess I got too used to it.” I ran my left hand through my hair as I leaned my elbow against the window. “Plus, Duke is there, so I’m not completely alone.” Duke was good at keeping me company, he always curled up in my lap, or slept in the bend of my knees. However, as much as I loved Duke’s cuddles, they would never compare to the feeling as Calum’s arms wrapped around my waist and his chest pressed to my back.
Mikayla smiled, “I’ve been trying to convince Trevor of getting a dog since we moved six months ago, but he won’t go for it. I’m excited to meet Duke. He’s so cute from the pictures you’ve shown me.” I smiled and turned the radio up a little louder as I drove towards the house. Mikayla and I danced to the radio, our favorite song playing as I drove up the hill. We hadn’t had a girls night since shortly after I moved here.
My first day in the office she was the first one to say anything to me. “I mean, I sit across from you, so I might as well introduce myself. My name is Mikayla, and you must be Emily. They’ve been talking about you coming here for a while now.” That day she had worn a floral top that was mostly black, and had silky sleeves. She was wearing black leggings, and a pair of tiger print heels. I had been so jealous of her fashion sense, but the jealousy was short lived when she took me shopping and rebuilt my entire wardrobe. Her long brown hair had a slight curl at the end, and her blue eyes were accented by some mascara, her thin lips tinted by her pale pink lipstick. I reached my hand towards her with a smile and told her it was nice to meet her. We hung out for the first time that weekend, and I guess it’s history after that.
I shifted the car into park as I pulled into the driveway. Mikayla reached behind her and grabbed her overnight bag out of the backseat. We walked into the house, Duke greeting us with a wagging tail. Mikayla squealed in joy and picked him up as I set Calum’s car keys in the bowl by the door. Duke slobbered all over Mikayla’s face as I made my way through the kitchen and to the back door to slide it open, allowing Duke to go in and out as he pleased. Mikayla set him back on the ground and he ran outside. “What sounds good for dinner?” I asked as I turned to the fridge, pulling out two drinks.
Mikayla hummed as she took one of the drinks, “Maybe we should order some Chinese food, like old times.” She smiled and twisted her hand around the cap to open the drink. “We can order Chinese food and get all tipsy and just have a good night.” The first night we ever had an adult sleepover was at her house, a couple weeks after we met. Trevor had gone on a business trip and Mikayla wanted someone to keep her company. She invited me over, and we ordered a large amount of Chinese food, and drank a large amount of wine. The main thing I remember from that day was Trevor waking me up on the couch laughing because it took him an hour to wake me up. A smiled stretched across my face, I liked the idea of repeating that night, maybe not exactly, but something close to it. I tilted my bottle forward and clinked with hers before we both washed back our drinks.
After Mikayla hung up the phone, placing the food order, I went through Calum’s bedroom for a speaker. He has to have one somewhere, right? As if he read my mind, my phone started ringing, his picture showing up causing me to smile from ear to ear. “Hey, love.” I sat on the end of the bed and listened for his voice.
“Hey, sunshine. How’s your sleepover going?” There were a couple voices behind him, sounding like he was hanging out with the guys.
I ran my hand through my hair and looked around the bedroom. “Funny you ask that. I’m trying to find a Bluetooth speaker so we can listen to music. I was looking in the bedroom, but I can’t find one.”
“There should be one in my music room. Check on the desk. What are you and Mikayla going to do tonight?” Michael started to yell behind Calum and Calum sighed, “Michael says hi.”
As I exited the bedroom, I let out a chuckle. “Tell him I say hi back.” I crossed the threshold into Calum’s music room and flicked on the light switch. “We ordered some Chinese food. Back when we first became friends, we had this night where we ordered some Chinese food and got all wine drunk, so we’re thinking about having a night like that.” I eyed the desk and found the Bose speaker sitting on his desk. “Oh, I found a Bose speaker, is it okay if I use it for tonight? I’ll put it back tomorrow.”
Calum chuckled, “Yeah, you can use it, sunshine. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but that’s your house too. That’s what happens when you move in with someone.”
I grabbed the speaker off the desk and used my elbow to switch off the light as I made my way back down the hallway. “I know, but it’s still your stuff.” I close my eyes thinking about how my ex would react when I would move his things. Nathan would always get mad for moving things without asking, or using something that he ‘worked so hard for,’ even though we had a shared bank account. Sure, he worked hard for it, but so did I. As I set the speaker on the counter, Mikayla came out of the bathroom, wearing sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt, and her hair bundled on the top of her head in a messy bun. Our normal girl’s night outfit.
“Oh, tell Calum I say hi!” Mikayla bounced up and down, clapping her hands.
Calum sighed, “My stuff is your stuff too, Emily, that’s what happens when you’re in a relationship, and when you move into someone’s home.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” After nodding to Mikayla, I dropped my head and turned away from her. “That’s not how my last relationship was, thank you, Calum.” I turned and looked at Mikayla behind me who was begging for me to tell him hell for her. “Mikayla says hi.” She pulled her elbow back in satisfaction and walked into the living room.
“Tell her hi back.” He chuckled, but then collected himself to appropriately display his seriousness through the phone, “I’m sorry that your last relationship was so terrible, but, that’s not how our relationship is going to be, okay?” He was quiet. My heart raced as I thought about telling him how much I loved him, but the doorbell interrupted that thought. “I’m going to let you go, sunshine. Have a fun sleepover, call me in the morning.”
My heart skipped a beat at his tone. “Did I do something wrong?” I ran my hand across the back of my neck as I walked down the hallway towards the bedroom.
“No, sunshine, I just wish I was there. You have fun with Mikayla, okay?” Calum’s voice was soft, and suddenly, I felt like crying. “Call me in the morning, love.”
“Yeah, I’ll call you in the morning. Have a good night, Cal.” It was quiet for a few seconds before he said his goodbye and hung up. I looked at my phone for another second before sliding it into my pocket and going into the bedroom to put on an outfit that matched Mikayla’s: a pair of sweatpants and one of Calum’s t-shirts that was even big on him.
We sat on the couch, the Chinese food sprawled across the entirety of the coffee table. Music playing softly in the background, for now. We washed back our third drink as another episode of The Office played on the TV. As soon as we finished eating, and the alcohol began to course through our veins, we turned the speaker as loud as we could. Dancing in the living room, using our bottles as fake microphones. My head started spinning from the alcohol and I sat on the couch, placing my hand on my forehead. My breath was labored from the dancing, proving just how unfit I actually am. Mikayla threw herself on the couch next to me with a laugh. I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t think Calum loves me back.” The alcohol had completely dissolved my filter now.
Mikayla looked at me, her chest heaving from the dancing as well. “What makes you think he doesn’t love you back?” Her eyebrows were pulled together.
My head was spinning. I wasn’t even sure why I thought that, there was really no reason to think that. I let out a laugh and Mikayla looked at me more confused than before. “I don’t actually know. It’s like there’s a tiny voice inside my head trying to convince me that he doesn’t love me, let alone like me. As hard as I try to shut the voice out, it won’t shut up.”
Mikayla readjusted her head and she took a deep breath. “It’s called trauma. That voice, I mean. Your last relationship was shitty, we all know that, but you gotta stop letting it come back and take control over everything you do.” She closed her eyes but then reopened them and turned her head towards me. “I know you told me how badly you want to tell him in person, but maybe you should tell him anyway?”
I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her, so just shook my head. “No, I want to wait until we see each other in person. Look, I don’t want to talk about this right now, I don’t know why I brought it up, can we keep dancing and drinking? I want to stop over thinking everything.” Mikayla cracked open another drink for me and turned the music back on. After the tenth drink, I don’t quite remember what else happened.
When I woke up, my head was absolutely pounding, but I felt a cold sensation on my cheek. My eyes opened and I was on the floor of the living room, my cheek pressed firmly against the hard wood floor. After blinking a few times, I pushed myself up so my back was against the couch and Mikayla snored slightly when I accidently nudged her arm which was hanging over the edge of the couch. My hands connected with my face as I fought the headache surging through my brain. My phone sat on the table and I reached forward, it was noon and Calum had called me three times, left me a voice message, and sent me a text. I checked the text message first. “I thought you’d wake up before me, I guess not. We have an interview at 2 and a performance after that, should be available for a Face Time date tonight, though. Miss you. Xx Cal.” Based off the time, he was probably performing right now. Next, I listened to the voicemail. “Hey, sugar. Hope you had a fun night, guess it must’ve been fun if you still haven’t called me. We’re about to step into the interview. Text me when you wake up.” My eyes shut tightly, he didn’t sound super thrilled that I hadn’t called him yet.
I mumbled to myself for being so stupid as I opened my messaging app and typed out my message. “Fuck, Calum. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me last night, I don’t even remember passing out, I hope you’re not mad at me. Call me when your performance is over, good luck, my love!” I dropped my phone to my side and ran my hands down my face. All I could think of doing was jumping into the pool and hoping it would dissolve my hangover. I pushed myself off the ground, grabbing my phone at the same time. When I opened the door, Duke ran off to the grass patch. My phone bounced as I tossed it onto a chair near the pool. I discarded my shirt and sweatpants and jumped into the pool. The cool sensation of water washed over my body, making the headache subside slightly.
I floated at the top of the water for a while until the muffled sound of my phone ringing made its way to my ears. My arms frantically flailed through the water and to the edge so I could push myself out of the pool. I knew it was Calum before I saw him on the screen. The only thing that surprised me was that it wasn’t an audio call, it was a Face Time call. As I answered, I ran the t-shirt I was wearing down my face. Calum came into view, he was wearing sunglasses and, from what I could tell, he was in a car. His face lit up when he saw me. “Good afternoon, sunshine. Did you have fun last night?” He ran a ring clad finger over his lips, suppressing a laugh.
My hand ran backwards through my hair smoothing it down more than it was from the water. “I don’t even remember if I had a good time. I feel like such an idiot, I’m so sorry I didn’t call you this morning. Do you hate me?” I laughed, even though the question was completely serious.
He shook his head, then pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “I could never hate you. I’m glad you had fun, my love. I, too, swim to get rid of a hangover, it’s actually the best cure. You know, for being completely hungover, you look absolutely gorgeous.” He looked at the camera matter-of-factly.
My cheeks flushed a soft pink and I laughed, covering my face. “Thanks. I slept on the floor last night, in the living room. Like, I woke up on the floor., my face was smooshed against the ground. Mikayla is still passed out on the couch. I don’t even know what happened.” I rubbed my eyes and laughed looking at Calum. I just wanted to reach through the phone and touch him. I missed the feeling of his skin against mine, whether it was because his chest was pressed against mine, or if because my fingertips were gently grazing across his cheek.
He reached up and pushed his sunglasses down, back to his nose. “Can’t even tell you how many mornings I’ve had like that. Are we still on for a Face Time date tonight?” I nodded and sat on the edge of the pool with my feet dangling in the water. “Great. I’ll call you at, like, nine my time.” I counted on my fingers to figure out what time that would be here, then nodded. Just then, the car stopped, a door opened and there was screaming. “I have to go, sunshine.” He kissed his finger, then pressed that finger to the camera, and then hung up. I tossed my phone back on the chair, and then tossed myself back into the pool.
Mikayla finally woke up around two, and showered before Trevor came and picked her up around three. He wasn’t surprised in the least that she was incredibly hungover. Honestly, I don’t think anyone was, except for me. Once Mikayla left I texted Calum, “How should I dress for our Face Time date?” As I waited for Calum to text me back, I downed an entire glass of water. My phone dinged and I read his message, breathing heavily from downing the entire glass of water. “However you’d like, sunshine. I probably won’t be wearing anything, if we’re being honest.” I choked on the air and sat my phone down, holding my hand to my chest. “Oh Jesus, Calum, are you trying to kill me?” I said to myself after gasping for air.
I finished microwaving some of the Chinese food we had left over and plopped myself on the couch, wearing a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. My phone started to ring and my heart skipped a beat. My fingers slowly wrapped around my phone wondering if he actually wasn’t wearing anything. I set my food on the coffee table and answered the call. When he came into view. I could only see from his chest up, but he definitely wasn’t wearing a shirt. I licked my lips at the thought of him actually being nude, but smiled and greeted him. “Hey, handsome.”
He blushed slightly and smiled hard enough that the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes appeared. “Hello, my love. What are you up to?” He leaned back, the lights of the television lighting up his face. His phone must’ve been propped against something, because I could see his entire torso as he leaned back.
“Just microwaved some left over Chinese food, watching The Office, because that’s literally all I ever do, if you didn’t know that. What are you watching?” I propped my phone up on the coffee table and sat back with my container in my hand.
“I don’t even know, to be honest. It was on when I turned on the TV. Mostly turned it on for background noise.” He looked at the phone with a coy smirk. “I wasn’t lying about what I said earlier.” He arms moved back and forth as if he was rubbing his hands along his legs.
I stopped chewing, and looked at the phone, raising an eyebrow. “What are you trying to get at, Hood?”
“You,” He said while laughing. “I’m trying to get at you, Williams.” He mocked me by using my last name, and suddenly my heart started to race.
My legs dropped off the couch and I bent over to pick up my phone. I suddenly felt self-conscious, something that I rarely felt in front of Calum. “I’ve never done anything like that – this. What should I do?”
He picked up his phone as well and ran his hand through his hair. “Find a place that you’re comfortable. Do you feel more comfortable in the living room or in the bedroom?” I bit my bottom lip and looked around the completely empty house. No matter the fact that it was empty, I most definitely felt more comfortable in the bedroom. Without responding, I pushed myself off the couch and walked down the hallway. After I shut the door, I sat on the bed, my back pressed against the headboard. There must’ve been a look on my face, because Calum sighed, but in a forgiving way, “Sunshine, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“No, no, I do. I’ve just never done anything like this. I might just need a little help.” I ran my hand through my hair and bit my bottom lip, feeling my cheeks flush red.
“I can help you, if you want that is.” His pupils dilated, and I nodded, feeling my stomach flutter. He started off slow, his voice was soft, never once making me feel uncomfortable. As the phone call continued on, everything picked up pace. I reveled in his hushed voice, and his face when his eyes closed and his head leaned back and his Adam’s Apple bounced as he swallowed a groan. He was everything I’ve ever wanted; this was everything I’ve ever wanted.
We were silent for a minute until Calum smiled and cleared his throat. “I thought about you all day today.”
I sat up and grabbed his sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. “Did you?” I smirked and grabbed my phone as I headed out the bedroom door, back into the living room. “What did you think about?”
He hummed and laid his head back on the white pillows I was becoming accustomed to. “How beautiful you are, how much I wish I was there, how much I miss you.” His eyes started to close, the exhaustion starting to take over.
I plopped myself onto the couch and smiled at him. “I miss you too, so much. I wish you were here, I think that would’ve been better if you were here.” I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled, his eyes still closed. “Get some sleep, my love. I’ll leave the call going for a little while. I’ll hang up in an hour or so.” He nodded and placed the phone on the empty side of his bed and pulled the comforter up to his chin. Without another word, he was fast asleep.
************
Tag list: @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream
#LA Devotee#calum hood#Calum Hood blurb#Calum Hood oneshot#Calum Hood imagine#Calum Hood fic#Calum Hood fan fic#Calum Hood fan fiction#Calum Hood 5sos#Calum Hood 5 seconds of summer#Calum Hood writing#Calum Hood series#Calum Hood x OC#original character#Calum#calum blurb#calum oneshot#calum imagine#calum fic#calum fan fic#calum fan fiction#calum 5sos#calum 5 seconds of summer#calum writing#calum series#calum x OC
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Delphiniums & Desire [CH 1]
Summary: Remy Savidge is just a broke 22 year old guy. His life is going terribly wrong and at this point he has nothing to lose, so with encouragement from his best friend Roman... He finds a sugar daddy. Except falling in love wasn't quite part of the plan. Pairing: Remile (Remy x Emile) Warnings: Sugar Daddy stuff. Note: Nope. [AO3 LINK]
Remy’s grip on the letter tightened, crumpling the sheets between his fingers. He groaned and threw the letter down onto his small kitchen table before turning to kick his wall. His neighbour’s dog barked, and he glared at the peeling wallpaper as if that would shut the dog up. It didn’t. Obviously. His stomach growled and he opened his fridge, finding nothing but a half empty bottle of some weird smoothie (Something Remus had left behind. Remy hated the stuff.).
Remy grabbed his jacket – Black leather, a gift he’d gotten from Roman – and headed out the door, pushing up his sunglasses as he moved. It wasn’t warm out, the crisp October air bit at his skin and orange leaves crunched under his boots, but the glasses were more of a comfort item than protection from the sun anyway. He made his way to the closest Starbucks and pulled out his wallet groaning when he only managed to pull out a few coins. He replaced his wallet and took out his phone instead.
It didn’t take long for Roman to pick up the call.
“Roman, honey, so you know I’m like, the bestest friend ever-“
Roman laughed. “Want a coffee?”
Remy looked around, squinting through his glasses. “Yeah, of course. How’d you-“
“I’m inside of Starbucks and I can see you, idiot. Come inside.”
Remy chuckled quietly as he hung up the phone, walking inside and seeing a flash of red in the corner. Roman. Perfect. He walked over and fell, rather dramatically, into the seat opposite Roman.
“Alright, spill,” Roman demanded, sitting forward in his seat. He cupped his face with his own hands, watching Remy.
Remy raised an eyebrow. “Spill what?”
“Something’s bothering you. My best friend senses are tingling. What’s up?”
Remy’s face dropped and his entire body seemed to mirror that. He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them. “My landlord is threatening to kick me out. Work is barely getting me any decent money. I have no food at my house and I’m broke.”
Roman’s expression softened and he reached over the table, taking hold of the hand closest to him. “Hey, Rems?” He said quietly.
“Mm.”
“You know you can stay with me and Remus, yeah? I know Remus is a lot to deal with-“
“He ate my fish.”
“Yeah, ok, ok. I know, trust me. He’s wild and it can be tiring, but he cares about you just as much as I do. The couch isn’t super comfortable but you’re free to crash with us for as long as you need.”
The corners of Remy’s lips twitched up into a smile. He sat back up and Roman squeezed his hand before pulling back.
“Or you could get a sugar daddy,” Roman shrugged as he took a sip of his drink.
Remy laughed, but the idea stayed in his mind for the rest of the meeting.
The two sat in the Starbucks for another hour, talking about whatever came to mind. Remy’s worries, while still definitely tugging at him, were pushed back in his head for a while as Roman talked about some new chaotic mixture Remus had created at home. When they finally parted Remy felt better. Not great, but anything was an improvement from his earlier mood.
‘Or you could get a sugar daddy.’
Remy took out his phone and scrolled through the app store, trying to find an app that didn’t seem so shady. He found one with good reviews and ratings and sighed. It’s not like he had anything to lose. Maybe if his ‘sugar daddy’ tried to rob him they’d feel bad at how shitty his living situation was and they’d leave him alone. He chuckled at the thought as he downloaded the app and set up a profile.
He spent the next hour looking through profiles, sending his favourites to Roman for his opinions. Some of the bios made him laugh. His eyes caught a flash of pink and blue and he clicked.
‘Emile Picani, 32’
Fun, Remy thought. That was only a ten-year difference. Much smaller than the difference between some of his other options. The profile looked a lot more casual than the others – A softer tone, multiple cartoon references. Remy smiled as he screenshotted the profile and sent it to Roman. He got an immediate reply.
‘Princey: look if you don’t fuck him, I will :P’
He took that as a good sign and clicked the ‘Start Talking’ button. His fingers froze over the keyboard as it opened. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to act? How did sugar babies do this?
“Just be like, casual. Be calm. What do you have to lose?” He muttered to himself as he started typing.
‘Remy Savidge: uhhhHHHH’
‘Remy Savidge: damn, you’re so pretty I forgot what I wanted to say’
Remy groaned to himself and threw himself down onto his bed. There was no way this would work, this was stupid. He couldn’t even send a normal, human sounding message to the guy. How was he going to convince a stranger to pay his bills? How-
His phone buzzed in his hand.
‘Emile Picani: Cute first move, sugar. You made me blush! Nobody on this app has managed that yet.’
Remy instantly messaged Roman. How the fuck was he supposed to reply? How the fuck did he actually get a response. What the fuck was happening. He was going to kill Roman for ever suggesting this-
Bzzz.
‘Emile Picani: Your profile says you’re new to this. I’d be glad to help you out. If you wanna keep talking, here’s my number!’
Remy saved the number without thinking and instantly texted it.
‘Remy: is it usually this easy to get a number? damn, ive been doing it wrong all these years’
‘Emile: Aww, sugar. You caught my eye more than everyone else. You wouldn’t believe the amount of people that start conversations with ‘Give me money’. It’s crazy.’
Remy smiled and instantly found himself sucked into the conversation. The two talked back and forth for the remainder of the night, and Remy found himself laughing multiple times. It was nearing 1am when Emile finally said goodnight.
‘Emile: Sorry to end things here. I need to get to sleep, I have work tomorrow morning. Maybe we could arrange a meeting on Wednesday? There’s a nice little café not too far from my office and I’m friends with the owner.’
Remy stared down at his screen. Already meeting? Did Emile want to talk about Remy actually being a sugar baby?
‘Emile: Unless I’m being too fast, or I misunderstood your mood. We could wait a little longer?’
‘Remy: no, no, just didn’t expect things to work like this. wednesday works. Some time in the afternoon? i like to sleep in’
‘Emile: Of course, sugar. I’ll see you then.’
Remy smiled as he turned off his phone and lay down. Now he just had to hope that this Emile guy was as friendly as he seemed. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now he just had to wait for Wednesday to roll around.
The café that Emile had chosen was nice. Not quite as busy as the Starbucks that Remy had gotten used to, but he appreciated the change. A friendly guy had greeted him as he walked in, all warm smiles and round-framed glasses and soft words. After learning he was waiting for Emile, the guy lead Remy to a table near a window and sat him down.
“Now, what can I getcha? Anythin’ catching your eye?” He asked, motioning towards the menu on the table.
Remy shook his head. “I don’t have any like, money right now. I’m good.”
The grinning man just laughed. “Oh, honey no. You’re waiting for Emmie, aren’t ya? You can order anything you’d like, that man is a softie and he’d’ve brought you something anyway.”
Remy felt his face grow slightly warmer as he looked down at the menu. “Uh- Black coffee and a blueberry muffin, please?”
He received a nod in return. “Of course. I’ll be right back!”
Remy felt the need to shrink back in his seat. Or run. What if this Emile guy didn’t actually arrive, or what if he did but he wasn’t nice, or what if Remy had to pay for himself, or what if this was all just some trap to harvest his organs for pie-
He hid his face in his hands. He’d been around Remus too much.
He heard footsteps and looked up, expecting to see a bright smile and a coffee, instead being greeted by one Emile Picani. Remy’s eyes widened behind his glasses. Emile was tall – Roughly somewhere around 6 feet tall if Remy had to guess, but either way he towered over the table. His hair was light brown and slightly curled at the ends, light freckles dotted over his cheeks and nose, and his eyes behind his glasses looked to be roughly the same light brown as his hair. He smiled and sat down opposite Remy.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long,” He said. “Traffic was terrible today.”
Remy shook his head and shifted in his seat, kinda glad that his shades mostly hid his staring. “I haven’t like, been here for too long.”
It was then that the friendly man from before walked back out, carrying a tray with coffee and a muffin. His eyes lit up when he saw Emile, but he held back his excitement until after he’d given Remy his items.
“Emmie!”
Emile grinned. “Hey Patton! Hope you didn’t scare Remy too much while I was gone.”
Patton pulled a face of mock-offence hand over his chest. “I would never. Dee would for sure, but he’s not in today. Family emergency.”
“Shame,” Emile said, frowning slightly. “I was hoping to set up another session with him. Oh, well- I’ll take the usual please?”
Patton nodded and walked off again. Emile turned his attention back to Remy. “Sorry about all of that, I haven’t been in here for a couple of weeks.”
Remy shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “It’s fine. I get it. I like, do that with my friends too.”
Emile sat back in his seat and rested his arms on the table. “So, lets talk about this. Since you showed up, I’m assuming you haven’t changed your mind about being a sugar baby?”
“No.”
“Good,” Emile smiled, and Remy felt Emile’s eyes burn through his shades. “So, lets set up a few ground rules before we discuss allowances. Is that ok?”
Remy nodded.
“Alright! So, since this isn’t a fully committed romantic relationship, I’m not going to be bothered if you… Hook up with other people when we aren’t together, or even find a partner. That isn’t any of my business and I won’t stop you from doing that.” Emile nodded his head in thanks as Patton put down a plate with a sandwich and a cup of tea. “I don’t work on Wednesdays or most Sundays, so I’m available to meet with you at least once and sometimes twice a week, and if you decide you want to meet more, you’re allowed to ask.”
Remy nodded along quietly as Emile spoke. Sure, he was listening, but he couldn’t help but pay attention to the small details in the older man. The way his hands twitched slightly as he picked up his cup, or the light freckles that ran down his neck.
“Anyway, for your allowance – Is there an amount you’d like to offer up before I say what I was thinking?”
Remy was pulled back out of his thoughts. He blinked a few times as he tried to come up with a number. “Uhhh. $300?”
“A week?”
“Y…Yeah? Is that too much?” Remy asked.
Emile paused for a second before laughing. “Oh, sugar… You really are new to this, huh? You’re precious. Alright, alright, my offer is $800 a week, as well as some gifts when I find something, I think you’ll like.”
Remy’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Of course. Is that ok? We can discuss raising it once we’re both more comfortable with everything and if both of our wants in the relationship change.”
Remy nodded and grinned as he finished his muffin. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great.”
Emile’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked it. “Oh dear.”
He stood up, dropping a few notes onto the table. “Sorry, sugar. I’m needed back at the office for something. I’ll text you later? We’ll finish up all the final details of the arrangement and hopefully I’ll see you soon.”
Remy made a noise of agreement and Emile rushed out of the door. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. This was definitely a story to tell Roman.
#my writing#//#delphiniums & desire#/#sanders shorts#sanders sides#cartoon therapy#-#remy sanders#emile picani#remile#roman sanders#patton sanders
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laura harrier. twenty-four. she/her/hers. / artemis laurent just pulled up blasting carmen by lana del rey — that song is so them ! you know, for a(n) twenty-four year old model and actress, i’ve heard they’re really intense, but that they make up for it by being so hard working. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say the smell of a freshly blown out candle, piles of old planners, and long manicured nails. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble !
what’s up kiddos!! it’s ya girl paige (carol’s mun) here with my new baby artemis. sweet girl, but definitely hard to get through im still working out a lot of the KINKS but here she is:
artemis francesca laurant, older half sister to noel, daughter to eva and some one night stand that she doesn’t even remember
from a young age, artemis was like a second mom around the house. she was always looking after noel and trying to help her mom out as best she could
artemis was five when her mother and noel’s father got back together, and that was like the only time in her life she actually got to be a kid and enjoy herself and be a little selfish
she started dance classes around that age, and it was clear she had a talent. she was always dancing around, or singing. she loved performing and dance was her favorite thing
when noel’s father left, artemis was 10, and that was when dance classes stopped because they couldnt afford it
the owner of her dance studio, miss jane, took a liking to artemis from a young age, so when she had to quit for financial reasons, she was given a job at the studio
at first, it was just easy work, but when she got old enough she started teaching dance classes herself
apart from teaching dance, artemis worked as a personal assistant to one of the richer people in their home town of san marcos, as well as attending school
artemis was bright, a very smart student, and also talented. she was in the musicals and did very well in school, all while balancing working and looking out for her brother
speaking of noel, the two were inseparable for their entire lives. it didnt matter that they had different dads, they were the best of friends. artemis did whatever she could to try and give noel the most normal childhood she could
when it came to college, artemis had set her mind on staying home. one day, she got a packet in the mail from julliard offering her a full ride for dance, and she was completely shocked bc she didnt even apply
turned out miss jane sent in an application for her because she thought she had so much talent and didnt want it to be a waste
artemis, however, turned down the full ride because she knew she had to stay home
she went accepted a full ride to texas state, right in san marcos, and was able to attend her classes as well as work as much as seh could
mostly, she wanted to be able to save enough money so that noel could go to whatever school he wanted, and so that their mom could relax a bit
tbh artemis wasn’t fully happy with her life but she knew that she had to support her family, because she loved them
so when noel announced that he and his band were picking up and moving to LA, she was furious
she had given up so much of her life to support her family, she gave up going to the school of her dreams so she could provide for noel and her mom and he was just going to leave them
huge fight, honestly artemis didn’t talk to him for a really long time after that happened because she couldnt understand how selfish he could be
about a year and a half later, noel decided to move them out to LA--while artemis wanted to stay put, their mom insisted they take the opportunity to mend the relationship and lvie a better life
begrudgingly, artemis agreed, and they moved out to LA when she was about 21 years old
at first, she hated it in LA, but after a few months there she was offered some kind of modeling gig. she didn’t think anything would come from it, but it was a victoria’s secret scout, and she soon became a model for the brand
her world turned upside down. she began modeling in magazines, on runways, in the victoria’s secret fashion show.
it was a dream come true
but it wasn’t the dream. so when artemis heard disney was spearheading a high school musical project, she decided to audition
singing and dancing and acting has always been her passion, so given the opprotunity, she wanted to take it
much to her own surprise, artemis was cast in the lead role of nini in high school musical the musical the series
now, artemis is about to start filming the second season of the show, as well as continuing to model and attempting to mend her relationship with her family
random stuff that didnt fit
artemis’s father is white, so she’s mixed
she and hal dated for like 11 months last year, and broke up at the end of november. it was a HEARTBREAK man, they were so in love and the end of their relationship was so sad omg she’s still heartbroken
while she still models, artemis quit working for victoria’s secret a year after working with them--she hated what they stood for, and wanted to model for more inclusive brands (she’s now the face of third love)
she really is a triple threat, shes a great dancer and loves to sing and can act and model
shes left handed
she does a LOT of activism work, she wants to help out underresourced communities and has a lot to say about the election (WARREN FOR PRESIDENT) and the world and stuff
personality
she’s a fun gal, i promise
her exterior is just very hard
she doesnt open up to people very easily, but once she does shes a ball of fun
shes very hard working, which comes from having to work her whole life
shes super passionate about what she does as well as the people she cares about
definitely comes off very queen bee, but shes not selfish or shallow
plots
uh everything
friends she made before becoming famous
friends she made AFTER becoming famous
ppl she met through her noel
people she met through hal
either ex hook ups (before dating hal) or current hook ups
maybe someone that helped her into the business
roommates!! she’s moved out of her mom’s place and roommates are fun
idk enemies?? shes the type
i suck at this
ok yah so that’s all ive really got. artemis is a gem i promise. pls press that like button and ill come for plots!!
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Catching Up Part X
A Joe Mazzello x Reader Fic!
Summary: Reader is a writer for an entertainment news network and after Joe comes in to do an interview, they reconnect. Unexpectedly, they’re having a child together.
Word Count: 2.8K
A/N: Sorry this took so long! I’ve been so busy with requests! But I’m really dedicated to this story and I can’t wait for y’all to see how it ends! We’re getting close now!
Tag List: @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @jennyggggrrr @somethinginthewayiam, @grandaddy-roger-trash, @rogerloveshiscar, @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing, @danamaleksworld, @mrsmazzello, @reedusteinrambles, @rexorangecouny, @caborhapch, @kurt-nightcrawler, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @queendeakyy, @hotttspace, @anxious-diabetic, @someone-get-a-medic, @psychosupernatural, @lizvxx
Let me know if you’d like to be added! I think this story is going to have two more parts and an epilogue!
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Part X here we go!!!
Joe got his castmates on skype to tell them the big news. Rami, Gwilym, and Lucy were in Chicago. Allen was in London. Ben was in Los Angeles. But all of them knew that it was the day, and they had already arranged a time for Joe to call when they could all answer. You and Joe were on your laptop at your apartment, grinning like crazy at each other and at your friends. They looked eagerly at the two of you.
“So,” said Rami. “Boy or girl?”
You and Joe looked at each other and then back at them.
“It’s a boy!” you cried in unison.
They all clapped and shouted their congratulations. You held up the latest sonogram and they absolutely fawned over it.
“He’s beautiful!” Lucy cooed.
“What are you gonna call him?” asked Ben.
“I thought I told you,” said Joe. “Joseph Francis Mazzello IV.”
“I mean, yeah, but you’re already Joe,” Ben said. “What’s his nickname gonna be?”
“Joey?” Gwilym guessed.
“I call him Joey,” you said, pointing to Joe.
“We could both be Joey,” Joe said.
“That might get confusing,” Allen added.
“Whatever we call him will come naturally, I think,” you said. “He might even tell us what he wants to be called.”
“That’s true,” Joe said.
You chatted with them for a little longer, and they caught you and Joe up on what was going on in their lives. It was nice to hear from them all. The only one you hadn’t met in person was Allen, but he was very nice. When they all had to go, you hung up. You sighed and looked at Joe, happier than you had been in a long time.
“So, what would you say to a round of destressing?” he teased, leaning over to kiss you.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” you returned, smirking.
“It’s just doctor’s orders,” he said.
“Well, I can’t very well say no to that,” you said, kissing him again.
Giggling, you made your way to the bedroom to celebrate.
The following weeks were mostly focused on the move. You and Joe hired movers since you were well into your second trimester and it wasn’t safe for you to lift anything. It made you feel incredibly useless throughout the process. Joe insisted you were carrying the most precious piece of your home, and therefore had no obligation to move furniture or boxes.
On the official moving day, which ended up being late September, you spent time with Christy while Joe oversaw the moving process. It was nice to get quality time with her and celebrate your friendship together before you both took steps you knew meant less time for each other. Several times throughout the day, you got a little emotional thinking about it. As much as you loved Joe, you were going to miss Christy dearly. You were walking together in Central Park when you had to stop and rest.
“Sorry,” you said as you took a seat on a bench. “I’m feeling a little nauseous.”
“Ice cream didn’t agree with little Joey?” she wondered.
You shook your head. “I dunno. I’m still having a lot of nausea. Not as much as the first trimester, but enough to be annoyed.”
“Is that normal?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” you said with a shrug. “Pregnancy is so fucking weird I figure there’s no ‘normal’ way, y’know?”
“I guess that’s fair,” she chuckled.
“According to Google I shouldn’t worry,” you said. “It’s probably just that my hormones are going crazy right now.”
“It just sucks you can’t take anything,” she said.
“Yeah,” you agreed. “I get headaches a lot too, so it’s doubly awful.”
“God, I’m never getting pregnant,” she joked.
“Never say never,” you returned. “Don’t forget we weren’t trying for Joey here.”
She laughed. “I’m gonna be super careful to not get pregnant,” she corrected.
When you were feeling better, you began walking again. You told her about all the things you and Joe had done to prepare the house and what you’d gotten for the nursery. She was honestly thrilled for you and couldn’t wait to see it.
Joe picked you up from the park, looking sweaty and exhausted from a whole day of moving. After saying goodbye to Christy, you slid into the passenger seat, cradling your belly in one hand as you settled in. Joe kissed your cheek.
“You look sexy,” you joked, wiping his hair off his soaked forehead.
He smiled. “The house is almost done. We just need to unpack clothes, but I’ve got stuff for us to wear tonight.”
“Okay, we can take care of that tomorrow,” you said. “I can’t wait to see it.”
It looked much like you had imagined it would over the weeks. You and Joe had picked out everything together, and it really felt like yours. This was the Mazzello home. Joe wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked through it together. There were boxes of clothes, and some kitchen things that needed to be put away, but that was all part of moving.
“Welcome home,” Joe said.
You grinned. “It’s perfect.”
That evening, after you and Joe ordered a pizza and had that for dinner, you settled into bed pretty early. For the first night in many, you didn’t make love because he was so tired. You didn’t push because your stomach still felt a little queasy and you didn’t feel super sexy. Just as you leaned back against your pillows and cracked open a book, your phone rang.
“Who’s that?” Joe mumbled beside you, half asleep already.
“It’s Christy,” you said, and picked up. “Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”
“I just got our mail,” she said. “You’ve got a letter from Nick.”
“What?” you gasped. “Can you bring it over? We’re already in bed.”
She scoffed. “Really? You leave our apartment for one day and you’re already a grandmother?”
“We’re lame and tired,” you returned, trying to joke but worry was too strong in your heart. “Can you just bring it?”
“Yeah,” she agreed, and hung up. You knew she was already on the way.
“What’s up?” Joe asked.
“Nothing, baby,” you assured him, kissing his cheek. “Go to sleep. I just left a few things at the apartment.”
He muttered something else, but you didn’t really take it in. You got up, put on sweatpants and went downstairs to wait for Christy. The fifteen minute trip felt like hours when she was bringing you word from Nick. You hoped this meant he was ready to take a plea bargain and you wouldn’t have to go to court again.
When she arrived, you opened the door before she could knock. She had the letter and a few other things for you, but you just tossed them on the counter as you turned the kitchen light on. You eagerly ripped the letter open and pulled it out, your eyes frantically scanning the page. Your mouth fell open at what you read.
“What?” Christy asked. “What did he say?”
“What did who say?” Joe added as he came into the room. “What’s going on?”
“Nick wrote me from jail,” you told him.
“Why’d you say it was nothing?” he demanded.
“I wanted you to rest!” you insisted. “Why are you up?”
“I don’t sleep well without you next to me,” he said.
You didn’t have time to admire that sentiment. Christy let out a frustrated groan.
“You two are adorable, but we don’t have time for this!” she cried. “Y/N, what did Nick say?”
They both had curious eyes on you as you read the words on the page once more, cementing their reality in your head.
“He wants to see me,” you told them. “He says he’ll take the plea bargain but only if I come and talk to him. But he doesn’t say what it’s about.”
“This feels slimy,” Christy said. “Like a trap.”
“He can’t hurt me,” you said. “It’s all supervised.”
“Y/N, are seriously considering going?” Joe questioned.
“Of course,” you said. “If I can end this sooner, I want to take the opportunity.”
“But if you can get him in court -” Christy began but you cut her off.
“We don’t know that for sure,” you said. “And the court date sucks because Joe’s gonna be in London for the BoRhap premiere and you’re going to be in Florida with your boyfriend. I’d have to go alone.”
“What if he’s lying?” Joe asked. “I’m with Christy, I think he just wants to try and intimidate you again.”
“Well, so what if it is?” you said. “Then we’ll go about it the original plan. I don’t see what harm it can do.”
“It could cause you more stress, and the doctor said to do things that do the opposite of that,” he reminded you.
“It could also relieve the stress,” you argued. “Because then I won’t be so scared about going alone to court.”
“Why do you want to go so bad?” he questioned.
“All the reasons I’ve just said!” you returned. “Aren’t you listening to me?”
“I just don’t understand why you’re giving him the satisfaction,” he said, heaving a sigh. “This puts all the power in his hands.”
“It’s not about having power, it’s about finishing this,” you said. “I want to move on from him, and the sooner the better. A whole month before the court date.”
“Y/N, you can’t do this,” he said. “I’m gonna have to put my foot down.”
Your mouth fell open and you blinked at him for several moments. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“Oh my God, run, Joe,” Christy muttered to him.
“I said I’m putting my foot down,” he repeated. “No.”
“You know if you’re gonna keep speaking to me like that, you might as well get me a chew toy,” you spat.
“I didn’t mean -”
You cut across him. “Oh, didn’t you? Because that’s how you talk to dogs and badly behaved children, but definitely not your girlfriend who is five months pregnant with your child.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down.
“Apology accepted,” you said. “I love you and value your opinion, Joe, and you don’t always have to agree with me. But you will treat me with some goddamn respect.”
“Jesus, Y/N, use a dick,” Christy breathed.
“You’re right,” he conceded, ignoring your friend. “Again, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, and I just worry about you. That’s all.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said with a sigh. “I’m going to see Nick. And you can come with me or not, but I’m going.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I think it’s right, but I don’t want you to go alone.”
When you had everything arranged to go and see Nick, you found yourself more nervous than you thought you’d be. You tried to think of what you could say to him, but Joe and Christy advised waiting until hearing what he had to say before forming any ideas. Not having anything prepared though made you feel anxious.
The jail he was being held in also made you nervous. The officers there were stern and intimidating, but you figured they had to be with the job they had. You would see Nick in a common area that reminded you of a school cafeteria, but a lot scarier. Nick looked rather pathetic is in uniform, and he’d clearly not gotten any drugs either. His recent bout with withdrawal was written all over his face.
Joe held your hand tightly as you took a deep breath. Nick would also now know that you were pregnant. You’d been careful during the first court date to wear loose clothes and hide your bump. It helped that he hadn’t looked very hard at you. You saw his eyes go wide when he noticed it now. You placed your hand on your bump as you took a seat across from him. Joe remained standing, keeping a hand on your shoulder as he glowered at Nick.
“So,” you said. “What do you want to say?”
“First of all, I want to say I’m sorry, Y/N,” he began. “I’m really sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.”
“Okay,” you said, your voice stony. “You tried to say that before you broke my phone and wrecked my apartment. You’re gonna have to do better, Nick.”
“I don’t know what came over me there,” he said.
“I do,” you remarked.
“Please, let me finish,” he said, and you got quiet. “I don’t know what came over me. I truly didn’t go there with the intention of hurting you or begging for you back. I went there to ask you for money, and I lied to try and get it from you, I know. I don’t know why you having a boyfriend upset me so much.”
“Did you think there was still hope for us?” you asked.
He looked down at his hands. “Maybe a little. I always thought if I got clean...you might...”
“Forgive you for selling naked photos of me?” you wondered in disbelief. “How could I ever get past that?”
“You’re right, it was stupid,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t help but hold out hope, y’know?”
“This is getting off track,” you said. “Is there anything else you wanted?”
“I just want to know that you forgive me,” he told you. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to face a year in prison.”
You completely hardened as you glared at him. “You wanna know what I faced because of what you did? I was a prisoner in my own head, fearing every fucking camera I came into contact with. I was afraid for my job, for my reputation. I lost friends and family. It affected my relationship with Joe. And then you sent them to him and his friends and God knows who else! I had to start over all the progress I’d made on moving past it! And you want my forgiveness so that you can go to prison and feel okay?”
He sputtered for words.
“I forgive you, Nick,” you said, and he looked at you, wide-eyed. “But not for your sake. I’m forgiving you so I can move on with my own life and focus on this.” You placed your hand on your belly again. “He’s my life now. I’m looking forward, because I can’t look at you anymore.”
Tears welled up in your eyes and your head started to pound. You winced with pain and Joe knelt closer to you.
“You okay?” he asked.
You nodded. “I think so. I’m ready to go now.”
You both looked at Nick and then you spoke again. “Is there anything else? Are you ready to take the plea deal?”
“Yeah,” he said simply. “Just one more thing.”
You looked expectantly at him. He nodded toward your baby bump.
“If I had never gotten into the drugs, do you think that could have been us?”
“No,” you said simply. “It was always going to be me and Joe.”
He nodded, resigned, and you told the guard you were ready. You could feel Nick’s eyes on you as you left, willing you to turn around for one last meaningful look, but you didn’t give it to him. You were ending this on your terms. And that meant turning your back to him forever and pressing on with Joe and your son.
When you exited the prison, you felt so free. Joe looked hard at you. You’d gotten a little emotional inside, but that was gone now. Relief washed over you like a wave.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he wondered.
“Yeah,” you said, taking his hand as you made your back to your car. You stopped him before you got in, turning him to face you.
“I meant what I said in there,” you said. “It’s me and you now, okay? And little Joey. I’m not worried about anyone from the past. Not when I’ve got you two.”
He kissed you, his hands coming up to cradle your face as his lips claimed yours. This kiss sealed it.
“No more looking back,” he agreed. “I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about this.”
“I love you too,” you said. “And don’t worry about it. I understand why, and it makes me love you even more. You still supported me through it. Thank you, Joe.”
“You feel good about everything?” he asked.
“I do,” you assured him. “It feels like closure.”
He pulled you into a hug. “Good.”
You broke away and you both climbed into the car.
“You know what this means?” you said eagerly as he started to drive back to the house.
“No, what?” he wondered.
“We can just be excited about the premiere of Bohemian Rhapsody!” you squealed. “Yay!”
He laughed. “And then Joey’s gonna get here!”
“I know!” you cried. “We’ve got so much to look forward to!”
#joe mazzello#joe mazzello x reader#joe mazzello imagine#joe mazzello x you#BoRhap#BoRhap cast#borhap boys#borhap imagine#bohemian rhapsody#bohemian rhapsody imagine#queen#queen imagine#John Deacon#John deacon imagine#john deacon x reader#john deacon x you#catching up series
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penny!verse. I'm curious how Belle & Gabe walk the line between a teenage boy getting into halloween and Claire being just old enough start to understand the holiday and be scared of some of the movies and things, especially given what B&G have seen because of their jobs. tricks and treats?
Apparently when I said ‘flashfic’ I lied. Are we shocked?
Takes place about 5 years after Belle returns. Claire is a little over two.
____________
Halloween stores were not Belle’s favorite place. She’d seen too many skeletons laid out on coroner’s tables to be amused by the styrofoam immiations. One aisle was entirely fake weapons, from plastic knives painted with fake blood to rubber guns that looked too realistic. Worst were the costumes that declared ‘serial killer’ and ‘sociopath’ and ‘insane patient’ to be the perfect way to dress up.
Unfortunately she needed a costume for Claire, and didn’t have the time to look more than one place, of the skills to make it herself. Bay, seeking a costume of his own, had decided to join the trip which meant she couldn’t just stick to the aisle filled with rainbow colored costumes. Claire settled relatively quickly on a ‘pun-kin’ costume. Belle wondered if Bay would be as easy to please.
“Hey Belle, you should totally dress up this year. There’s a ton of stuff here. Just not, you know, the sexy FBI agent costume because that would be weird.” Bay didn’t seem to have found a costume yet; the only thing in his hands was a pumpkin carving kit.
“I wish I thought you were joking.” She had nothing against dressing up. And certainly she and Gabe had tried their hand at role play more than once, but the general sexualization of women’s costumes upset her. Sometimes it seemed there wasn’t any other option and she hated the message that it sent. “We’re only taking Claire to a few homes this year before dinner at David and Mary Margaret’s. If anyone asks I’ll tell them that I am a FBI agent. What about you?”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to Gabe yet, but I think I’m missing dinner this year. There’s this party, one of the guys in my chem class is throwing it. I can’t decide, is Dracula too overdone or is it classic?” He looked at his hands; Belle hadn’t noticed the fake blood container on top of the carving kit.
“Classic,” Belle decided. It certainly was better than a lot of other options he could have come up with, and she knew that he had almost everything he’d need at home. They just needed to find fangs and a cloak. When she thought too much about the party, though, the hairs at the back of her neck stuck up. He was nineteen, in college now but mercifully had decided he wanted to live at home. He needed, even more than other kids his age, to feel like he belonged. In high school it had been common knowledge that he hadn’t grown up the same, that school was new to him. He was small for his age thanks to poor nutrition. It had taken time, Gabe had told her, for him to settle in and begin to make friends. Now as a college freshman he had a fresh start in many ways.
She knew what could happen at parties. Knew that kids on their own for the first time would be testing their limits. And Halloween always seemed to make it worse, the anonymity of masks and costumes allowed people to do things they wouldn’t usually consider. She had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him it was a bad idea. She would have to talk to Gabe and figure out how they prepared their boy as well as they could.
Every year since she’d moved back they’d all had dinner at the Nolan’s - the first time she’s almost hadn’t gone, but Emma had talked her into coming and Archie had gone home with her; they’d watched Christmas movies for hours declaring it the start of the holiday season. The next year she and Gabe had been together, and had come with Bay and gone back to the pink house. Three years ago she had only just learned she was pregnant.; the next year there had been four of them. Last year she’d dressed Claire up as a dragon and Neal Nolan had been a knight. Emma, Graham, Ariel, and Archie had all joined her, Gabe, Mary Margaret and David was they’d taken the two around the neighborhood. Henry and Bay had spent most of the night playing video games. Perhaps she should have known then that the tradition was changing, but she would miss it.
“Awesome. Give me five minutes to grab a couple of things and I’ll be ready to go.” True to his word Bay was back in four with a red lined black cloak and an uncomfortable looking set of plastic teeth. He also had a gold plastic necklace with a large medallion that was supposed to look gothic. Perhaps she would at least be able to sneak in some education on the historical and literary character of Dracula. She paid for their purchases even though Bay offered to cover his own, and was relieved when they were headed home.
II
“Would you like paints too, sweetheart? It might be safer for you.” Belle teasingly moved the carving knives closer to Bay and offered her husband a paintbrush. Claire, covered in an old shirt of her brother’s, had a paper plate covered in easy wash paints in front of her and a pumpkin waiting to be decorated. Bay was already sketching out a monster’s face on his pumpkin, while Belle’s plan was for something more traditional.
“I haven’t had a kitchen accident in ages, thank you very much.” Gabe accepted the brush, though, thinking it might come in handy. It had potential for tickling a certain brunette on the back of her neck, for starters. And perhaps other places as well, when his kids weren’t around. He jumped into his own carving without a plan or sketch. Everything was quiet for a few minutes before Claire started crying.
“Sweetheart?” Her hands were covered with paint, and somehow her left cheek as well, but he didn’t hesitate before pulling her onto his lap. He was closer than Belle. “Can you tell papa what you’re feeling?”
“Hurt,” she sobbed between her tears.
“Where does it hurt, my love?” He couldn’t see anything but maybe the paint was hiding it. Or maybe it wasn’t something that could be seen; she’d had the flu a few months ago and had thrown up enough that they’d had to take her to the emergency room for an IV.
“Pun-kin hurt.” She pointed to his pumpkin, the top cut off and some of the seeds removed. “Bandaid?”
“Oh dear,” Belle spoke from across the table. “I hope this doesn’t mean I picked the wrong costume.”
“It’s okay, peanut, the pumpkin likes it.” Often times anything Bay said was okay was taken as law by Claire, but today she wasn’t having any of it. She only cried harder.
“Hurted. Pun-kin owey. Fix, papa.” She looked up at him and if he wasn’t convinced by the tears he was when she touched his cheek. “Peese?”
“Mama will go get some bandaids while we wash our hands, princess. We have some surgery to prepare for.”
II
“It’s just me, Claire. Your brother. See?” The scary man crouched low, holding out his hands so he could take her away. He’d already taken her Bay and was in his room, his face the wrong color, like the same as her milk, and blood on his mouth. She wanted her Bay.
“It’s a costume, kiddo. I’m just getting ready for a party.” When he came closer Claire wanted to run but maybe Bay was hurted. Claire did the only thing she could think of, she kicked as hard as she could and ran to find her papa. He would make the scary thing go away and find her Bay.
II
It was after two when he pulled into the garage, his cloak in a heap in the passenger seat and the ridiculous fangs in some trash can. When he looked in the rearview mirror he could still see streaks of white from the makeup he’d mostly washed off. Unfortunately he could see some blood on his lip, and not the fake kind. Hopefully it would look better in the morning, before he had to sit across the breakfast table from his family.
When he opened the garage door he found that there were still a few lights on. Normally catching Gabe and Belle kissing on the couch made him feel both good, because of how much they loved each other, and weird because who wanted to see their parents doing that? Tonight, though, he just hoped they were distracting each other enough that he could get to the stairs before letting them know that he was home..
He should have known better. FBI agents, even when one was retired, were not people you snuck away from.
“Aren’t you going to say goodnight? Or perhaps good morning?” He couldn’t ignore Gabe, and took a deep breath.
“You didn’t have to wait up for me. I would have let you know I was home.” He knew they worried, and understood it. Appreciated it, even. Before meeting Gabe he hadn’t known anyone could care about him.
“It’s not that we don’t trust you, Bay, we just…” Belle stopped, and got off the sofa. “What happened to your lip?”
“It doesn’t hurt.” Or it least it didn’t until Belle touched it, no matter how soft her touch was. “It was a good party. Most of it. There was just this one guy.”
“Someone you liked?” Gabe asked, frowning.
“Hell no.” It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d told Gabe how he felt about guys. Had said the word ‘gay’ outloud. Gabe had told him it was the person that mattered, not their gender. He’d also gone into embarrassing detail about what it meant to be safe and protected. There had been a guy at the party and there might have been some fumbling in a literal closet, but he wasn’t about to talk about that. “Someone who liked a girl that didn’t like him back. He didn’t accept the word no.”
“Bastard.” Gabe’s expression could only be described as a snarl. Belle touched his arm and gave it a squeeze.
“Is she alright?” Belle asked.
“Yeah. I gave her a ride back to her dorm. Dom was too busy holding his nose to notice where we went.” He wasn’t ashamed at the pride he felt in what might have been a broken nose.
“I’m glad she’s safe. And you are too.” Belle kissed his cheek. “Now let’s go get some ice for that.”
II
“It’s too much to hope that the experience has soured him on parties, isn’t it?” Thirty minutes later Bay had gone to bed, Claire had been checked on and was still sleeping in her costume, and he and Belle were finally getting ready for bed. “It was easier when he was still in high school.”
“He’s smart and he’s kind, and he’s not alone. That matters, sweetheart.” Belle spoke from the bathroom.
“At least Halloween is over for the year.” He stripped out of his clothing and slipped under the blankets.
“Not until the sun rises.” When Belle came out of the bathroom she wore a witches hat and a black lace nightie covered in bats. And nothing else. “Not everything about Halloween is bad.”
He had to agree.
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Partners - Chapter 1
Summary : Jesse McCree and Genji Shimada don't particularly start off on the right foot, and things only get more awkward as the two are forced to share a room and work together closely.
Read here on AO3
“McCree, come up here.”
Jesse sighed into the towel he was using to dry off.
“Comin’, boss.” He muttered, as if the voice over the intercom could hear him, throwing the towel to the heap and languidly shuffling to the command center, where he knew Gabriel was sitting pretty as he watched practice.
It wasn’t rare for Gabriel to call him out like this, either to reprimand him or try and give him some pointers. The man sure loved to hear his own voice. To Jesse’s surprise, however, the boss was not alone when he found him. “Well, who’s this then?” Jesse smiled, nodding to the newcomer. He’d seen omnics before, but this one was new. The man clearly still had some human left in him, but what was left was marred beyond repair. What Jesse could see of the man’s face were two piercing red eyes, some serious eyebrows, and a lot of scars. The moment Jesse locked eyes with him, it felt like he was being stabbed in the heart, either by daggers or an arrow. Uh oh. He thought. This one’s gonna’ be trouble.
“Genji Shimada.” Gabriel put his hand on the man’s shoulder, only for Genji to quickly shrug it off, making Gabe smile.
“Wait, Shimada? Of those Shimadas?” Jesse’s eyebrows raised. He knew the Shimadas were on their blacklist, so what was one of them doing here?
“Yes, of those Shimadas.” Gabe continued smiling. He was getting a kick out this, wasn’t he? “His family wants him dead, and nearly succeeded in making it so, but Dr. Ziegler put him back together, and now he’s joining Blackwatch. And you’re in charge of him.” The Commander pushed Genji forward with a pat, forcing him to step forward a bit, to which the man’s eyes narrowed in rage, but he didn’t speak up.
“Uuuh, if you don’t mind me askin’, why me? Surely there’s people better suited to takin’ care of somethin’ like… This…” Genji’s eyes shot up to his face, the glare directed once again at him. Jesse didn’t break his stride, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit intimidated. Gabe was clearly finding all this amusing, having a hard time hiding his smile.
“He reminds me a lot of you when you first joined us. Self-destructive, ornery, standoffish. Figured you’d be the best choice. Plus, you seem to have a lot of time on your hands nowadays.” To this Jesse scoffed, making Gabe give him a look. “Why, do you have an issue with my decision?” Jesse fought rolling his eyes.
“No sir. I’ll try not to disappoint you.” He once again looked at Genji, who was looking off in some other direction with disdain.
“Good. You’ll be making direct reports to me and Dr. Ziegler regarding his behavior and health. You’ll also be sharing a room with him. I’ve had your stuff moved.” At this Jesse’s eyebrows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to say something, but a look from Reyes made him close it.
“Yes sir.” He sighed.
“Good. Go report to Dr. Ziegler now, and she’ll give you the lowdown on what she’ll want you to do.”
“Yes sir.” He repeated, and looked to Genji. “Well, let’s get goin' partner.” He made sure not to touch him, but gestured for him to follow. Genji looked back at Gabe for a moment, to which the man gave him an encouraging nod. Genji nodded back, and began begrudgingly following Jesse.
As the pair walked to med bay, the silence was deafening. Jesse wanted so badly to break the silence, but he couldn’t think of anything productive to say, and he was afraid to be met with those vicious eyes again, so he just stayed quiet. When they finally reached their goal, Jesse was relieved to be in the presence of a familiar person, and could almost feel the tension dropping out of him as he saw Angela Ziegler hard at work. She was so absorbed with whatever she was doing that she didn’t even seem to notice when they walked in.
“Dr. Ziegler?” Jesse called out, approaching her desk. No response. “Angela?” He loomed over the desk, leaning over and waving a hand in front of her face.
“Oh!” She shot up, shooting her rolling chair backwards violently. “Ah,” she grabbed the chair, and pulled it back to her desk. “Sorry, Jesse. I think I may have dozed off.” She had certainly looked better, the bags under her eyes made it clear she hadn't slept in a while, at least well.
“S’not a problem.” He smiled at her. “Reyes sent me here so you could tell me a bit about our new recruit.” He motioned his head towards Genji, who also seemed to have relaxed, if only a bit.
“Oh, Genji! How are you feeling today?” She raced around the desk and began poking and prodding the man. Unlike earlier, this time he didn’t protest. Jesse took a step back, giving the two some space.
“Well enough, Dr. Ziegler.” After hearing Genji speak up for the first time, Jesse raised his eyebrows. What a handsome voice. He thought to himself, then shook the thought out of his head by physically shaking his head.
“I told you you can call me Angela.” She quirked her mouth, continuing to lift this and bend that as Genji continued looking forward.
“And I’ve told you, I’d rather not.” It was awkwardly silent again for a moment as Angela kept herself busy inspecting her work, until Jesse cleared his throat.
“Oh! Sorry, you’re right, I almost forgot why you were here!” Angela took a step back, and addressed Jesse. “So, I’m sure you can tell by looking at him, but Genji is comprised mostly of artificial parts at the moment.” At this, Genji seemed to tense up again, crossing his arms. Angela looked at him sadly for a moment, before turning back to Jesse. “It’s all perfectly functional, I assure you, but he’s a bit of a work in progress. Has been for a few weeks now, but we finally felt that he was at the point where he could begin moving around and going about daily life like everyone else.” She smiled weakly. “But we’re scared to let him really do all this on his own. He’s a bit unstable at the moment, both mentally and physically, so we need someone to watch over him. We figured it might be better to assign someone he can actually work with rather than medical personnel. Is that OK?” She looked to Jesse with concern.
“Huh,” Jesse scoffed, “Not like I’ve really got a choice ‘s far as the commander’s concerned.” He looked to Angela apologetically. “I mean, of course it’s fine. ‘Course I’d prefer to have more say in it, but I really don’t mind, s’long as he doesn’t.” He looked to Genji at his side, who seemed to be avoiding this conversation like the plague.
“He’s got as little choice as you do in this matter, unfortunately.” She sighed. “But I think the two of you will be good for each other. Or at least, you’ll be good for him.” She laughed, and went back to sit at her desk. “So basically, I just need you to keep an eye on him. There’s a few specific things you’ll need to do, though…” She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here, I’ve written up a schedule with details.” She handed it to Jesse, and then pulled another one out and looked at it. “I’ll go over the important things." She cleared her voice, before beginning her spiel.
"First of all, he DOES need sleep, but he also needs to recharge the battery operating his mechanical parts. There’s a port at the back of his neck,” she turned around and pointed to a spot on the nape of her neck. Jesse looked over at Genji’s neck and saw it, then gave Angela a thumbs up. “There’s a battery in your room, he needs to recharge every night. It should last for a week, so bring it to me on weekends to refill it. As for meals, he also still needs eat, although he doesn’t taste anything. His tongue’s synthetic, but all his organs are more or less the same. We’re lucky they didn’t take as much damage as some other parts.” She looked seriously at the paper, and it was clear that she’d gone back into work mode. “So he needs to brush his teeth, and eat breakfast. He can practice with you, and others, but only in moderation. It’s important that you keep a close eye on him during these times. He doesn’t have a lot of experience working with his new parts in a combat situation, so we’re not sure how effective, or ineffective, they’re going to be.” She began tapping her finger on the desk as she spoke. “Lunch and dinner, like before. You really need to make sure he eats.” At this she pointedly looked up at Genji, who started looking away as soon as she looked up. “He tends to avoid eating. It’s understandable, surely the sensation of eating without being able to taste is uncomfortable, but I’m sure dying of starvation is even more so.” Her look lingered on him, then she turned to Jesse. “If you can’t get him to eat, bring him back here and we’ll give him an IV or an injection of the nutrients he needs.” She smiled menacingly at him, causing Jesse to wonder how many times they’d had to do that in the past. Genji looked a bit nervous. Jesse’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Moving on,” she looked back at the paper. “The only other important thing is washing up. He’s not completely waterproof, so completely submerging him isn’t advised. As you can see, he’s only got so much flesh, but his sweat glands function normally. I’m sure no one wants a sweaty, brooding cyborg wandering around base, so please make sure he washes up. He may need your help reaching his back. It’s a bit awkward, but it’s important.” She looks up at Jesse imploringly. At this point, he had resigned himself to whatever he had to do, so he just shrugged it off.
“‘S fine, not like I don’t see the other men nude in the showers every day.”
“Speaking of!” Angela smiled. “Your new room has a private bathroom. It’s important to me that Genji has his privacy in this crucial time, so I gave up my room for the two of you. Not like I sleep there much anyways.” She chuckled.
“Wait, wait, surely there’s another room! I don’t wanna take yours, doc!” Jesse interrupted, looking concerned.
“Unfortunately there really isn’t. The only rooms with private bathrooms are reserved for higher-ups and medical staff, you know this. Gabriel fought with me on this one too, saying you two should just stay with the other troops, but I won’t have it.” Angela looked at him matter-of-factly, ending the argument right there. Jesse sighed.
“Alright. If you feel that strongly about it.”
“I do.” She smiled at him again, and put the paper down on her desk. “Well, that’s about it! Any questions?” She looked at the two of them expectantly.
“I’m sure I’ve got some, but not any that I can think of at the moment.” Jesse looked at Genji, who remained quiet. “I think we’re good.” He turned back to Angela with a forced smile. She reciprocated the smile.
“You two will get used to this in no time. And depending on how you behave , Genji . ” She looked pointedly to him again. “We can end this arrangement as soon as we’re sure that you’re stable. Alright?” She looked at him, waiting for a response.
“Understood.” He finally responded, still not meeting her eyes. She sighed, then looked towards Jesse.
“Well, if you can think of those questions, feel free to stop by any time. I’m always here.” She motioned to the room, her tone exhausted.
“Gotcha’. You get some rest now, Doc. You’re still pretty as a peach, but we worry about ya’. Wouldn’t want our angel to be anything but her best.” He winked and tipped his hat at her, to which she playfully rolled her eyes. “Alright, let’s go grab us a bite to eat then, Genji. I’m famished.” He began making his way for the door, with Genji at his heel.
“Genji.” She called out, making the man turn around. “Please try your best.” She looked at him imploringly, and he seemed to think about it for a moment, before nodding, and turning to follow Jesse.
“Let’s make one thing clear, cowboy.” Genji spoke up in the empty hallway, breaking the awkward silence between them and almost making Jesse jump out of his skin. Before he could respond, Genji continued. “I don’t need you to babysit me. And I don’t need you to be my friend. Let’s get this observation period over with as quickly as possible.” Jesse scoffed.
“You think I want to be on suicidal cyborg duty? Sounds like you’re the one that’s makin’ the situation what it is. Maybe if ya weren’t so broody and cooperated better they wouldn’t see fit to make me your babysitter.” He rummaged through a pocket and pulled out a cigar and lighter. He lit the cigar and put it in his mouth, when suddenly, in a flash of movement he dropped his lighter as Genji pinned him against the wall, his hand pushed against his throat, choking the life out of him. Genji caught the cigar as it dropped with his free hand, Jesse attempting to pry the other off of his throat as he gasped for air.
“You speak as though I asked for this body. Like I wanted to be what I now am.” The smaller man’s voice was dripping with malice and murderous intent. “Do not speak as if you know me, cowboy.” His grip tightened to emphasize the word, before loosening it. “And do not smoke in front of me.” He let Jesse go, and crushed the cigar to pieces in front of his face, before walking away.
“Strong arm…” Jesse rasped under his breath, rubbing his throat and looking at the would-be cigar on the ground before moving to follow Genji. “I knew he was gonna’ be trouble…”
#fanfic#McGenji#Jesse McCree#Genji Shimada#Gabriel Reyes#Angela Ziegler#Overwatch#Jesse McCree x Genji Shimada
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What Happens at the Beach House, Part IV
Title: Falling for Your Boyfriend, Idiot Creator: @tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: O5 - Romantic Gestures Ship: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Rating: teen Major Tags: eavesdropping, Howard Stark’s A+ parenting, romantic gestures, romance Summary: Well, no one said Howard was going to be at the beach house. Tony hears a little more than he was intended to… and maybe, just maybe, what happens at the beach house is going to go home with them. Word Count: 2,308 Created for @mcukinkbingo
A/n - title from one of the quotes in What Happens in Vegas, which is a truly horrible movie, and this is mostly in no way based on that film. Also this author would like to confess to watching entirely too many bad romcoms. But I think everyone knew that already.
What Happens at the Beach House | Stays at the Beach House | Rules of the Road | Falling for Your Boyfriend, Idiot
Bucky was gone by the time Tony got out of the shower -- and maybe he’d lingered there for a while, hiding under the running water until even his mother’s water heater had given up the ghost and started to cool off. The last day at his mom’s beach house, they were going to be packing up and Happy would drive them back to campus, Tony supposed, after lunch.
It wasn’t normal that Bucky was gone already. He’d always waited for Tony before, even on the days when Tony was determined to sleep through lunch, Bucky would pull out a book and read, or watch videos on his phone.
Yeah, okay, so Tony might have been getting a little tired of the act. It was harder and harder to remember as the days went by that he was going to have to give this up once they got back to school.
It wouldn’t matter. A little distance at the end of vacation, Mom would think it was just vacation ending blues. She used to tell him when he was younger that she felt the same way. Howard was different, she would say, away from the business, away from his workshop and office. And that she was always a little sad to leave.
Tony had always thought she was full of it; even when he was too young to recognize what, exactly, she was full of. Howard wasn’t any different on vacation than he was at home. He was always obsessive, greedy, needy, jealous bastard. Just, on vacation, he was focused on Mom, and at home, he was focused on work.
If Tony was screwing up, then he moved from last on Howard’s priority list to somewhere in the top 10, but never higher than five, Tony had decided.
Even a colossal Tony screw up never rated of any more concern than that.
Tony had long ago decided that if the house was on fire, Howard wouldn’t remember he had a son until it was too late to rescue him.
Thinking about Howard always turned Tony’s stomach. He’d have skipped breakfast entirely, except he knew if he didn’t get his morning coffee, he’d have a terrible headache in an hour or so.
Bucky might be done with breakfast already and they could spend the day avoiding each other. Probably. Maybe.
That turned Tony’s stomach too, and he started wondering if the headache was worth it. If he didn’t have to see Bucky, then he didn’t have to see Bucky ignoring him.
Tony decided that coffee was the thing; he’d at least grab a cup.
His brain pinging back and forth between Howard and Bucky, and both people ignoring him, he almost walked right past Howard’s study -- even at the beach house, they had an office for Howard -- without noticing there were voices from within.
Almost.
He paused, because--
(more under the cut)
“... funny that I never heard a peep about you until he came into a fortune,” Howard said.
Tony’s stomach dropped and took up refuge somewhere around his toes. Howard was here? No one had told him that Howard was expected. He leaned closer to the door, eyes narrowed.
“Did he?” That was Bucky, his voice not quite casual. “Good for him.”
“Mmmm,” Howard hummed thoughtfully. “How did you two meet?”
“Couple years ago,” Bucky said -- and that wasn’t right, they’d only met last year, during a class, “I was running the projector for a moviefest the science fiction club was hosting. Tony was there, I think he came to see Flash Gordon or something, but he fell asleep. I didn’t even know he was there, but when I was cleaning and packing up, I dropped the projector. Woke him up cussing because I’d broken it, and I didn’t have the money to replace it. Tony barely opened his eyes, got up, fixed the projector -- you know he carries a screwdriver around with him everywhere he goes? -- and wandered off before I could even say thank you. I didn’t know his name for another month, I think?”
Tony barely remembered that; he sort of remembered the film festival, but not doing repairs to an ancient projector, or talking with Bucky. Huh.
“Anyway, I guess we were introduced to each other, we were lab partners for Pym’s molecular bio class,. We were friends for a while; he helps me out with my car. I’ve been coaching him with his language and literature classes.” Bucky chuckled. “He, uh, he reads really fast, but he doesn’t always grasp metaphors and stuff. Makes writing lit papers difficult. He’s so cute, you know, he’ll pace around the room and be like, ‘no, the curtains are just blue, it doesn’t have to mean anything!’”
Now that, Tony remembered. The only reason he’d passed second year comp at all was because Bucky talked him through, silver-spoon feeding him, all the Christianity references in Villette. There were a lot.
“Helps you with your car? Makes the payments?”
“Huh? No,” Bucky said. “I own that car. She’s just, you know, kinda old. Tony likes playing with the engine anyway, so he’s been helping me with maintenance and stuff. You know the dealership wanted two grand to replace the sway bar? Tony did it in twenty minutes with a ten dollar part. And he’s fast. I told him he should try to get a spot on a NASCAR driver’s pit crew. He’d be a natural.”
Tony had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. That would piss Howard off to no end, really. Bad enough Tony wasn’t majoring in business, wasn’t going to the school Howard wanted, was instead wrapped up in studying mechanical engineering, but not to go into the business at all, to be a dirty, grimy mechanic? Howard would chew nails and spit staples before he’d let that happen.
Bucky was a pretty good driver; Tony wondered if they could run away together and live off the winnings from track races.
Not, he thought, shaking himself all over, that Bucky wanted to run off with Tony to begin with.
And what the hell was Howard grilling him about anyway. Why the fuck was Howard even here?
His parents weren’t quite divorced yet; they’d seperated about six months ago, but Howard kept trying… Tony was pretty sure he was going to wear Mom out eventually. Maria Stark had about as much backbone as an earthworm, and Howard was pretty stubborn when he wanted something.
Tony had inherited all that stubbornness, and some of the backbone issue. He had a hard time standing up to Howard, even when he really, really wanted something.
“Would you be interested in a new car?” Howard speculated.
“Not really,” Bucky said. “I, uh, my insurance premiums are only like seventy dollars a month right now. If I gotta put collision and the value of a new car on top of that, no thank you. I’m making do, and Tony’s keeping her running.”
“Something could be arranged to take care of that,” Howard suggested. “You like race cars? Chevy’s got a really nice Corvette this year, we could cover the insurance for a few years, at least until it drops a bracket.”
Tony could almost see the dubious expression on Bucky’s face. “What are you getting at?”
“Look, I’ll square with you, kid,” and there came Howard’s showman’s voice, the I’m going to talk you into anything tones. “Tony’s being a thorn in my side. I built up Stark Industries from an idea in a garage, and I need him to stop messing around and put in some work so we don’t lose the company. This… engineering and fixing cars stuff, that’s just a distraction. Just… like you are a distraction.”
“I’m not quite following you, Mr. Stark,” Bucky said, but he sounded suspicious, like maybe he did.
Tony was half tempted to barrel in there before Howard could say something irrevocable. Or before Bucky could.
The rest of him wondered, exactly, what Howard thought he was doing.
And what Bucky was going to do about it.
“All of this,” Howard said. “This is what he needs to be thinking about, what he needs to be doing. And right now, everything’s going his way. He’s got school that he’s frittering time away with, and a boyfriend and all that.”
“And you, what? Aim t’ make him unhappy enough to do what you want?” Bucky sounded very unimpressed. “You know I don’t see him giving up on school just because we’re not dating anymore. He throws himself into work when he’s unhappy. You should see him every time he comes back to school after break. He’ll do it just to spite you.”
“Yeah, I think I know my son a little better than you do.”
Do not, do not, do not, Tony thought, like a recalcitrant toddler. That was one of Howard’s biggest problems. He didn’t know his family at all. He barely understood his wife, he had no idea what his son was like.
“I’m still waiting for what your proposal is,” Bucky said. “Because this conversation is going around in circles. You wanna just lay it on the table?”
“I’d like you to break things off with Tony,” Howard said.
“This may well be the first time I got a you’re no good for him talk from someone’s parents,” Bucky said, thoughtfully. “So, hit me with what’s in it for me.”
“I understand what you think you’re getting out of Tony,” Howard said.
“No, sir, I really don’t think you do,” Bucky said.
“You think he’s a meal ticket, that he’s a steady rush of wine and dine,” Howard carried on, as if he hadn’t heard Bucky at all. “And you know and I know that college relationships don’t last. You’re a man of the real world, Barnes. Not like Tony, with his head in the clouds. So, let me just skip to the good part. I will cut you a check for fifty thousand dollars.”
Tony almost fell over; he had to cling to the doorframe as his knees went weak.
“Why does this sound like a proposal you’ve made before,” Bucky wondered. “Did you offer that girl a similar deal? Because Sunset dropped Tony like he was a hot brick.”
“Bain was reasonable,” Howard said. “Think what it could mean, Barnes, starting out your career without debt.”
Tony considered bursting in, now. Howard had paid Sunset to dump him? Painfully, letting Tony catch her with another guy? That was… that was fucking low, and Tony wasn’t sure why the hell he was surprised. Not that Sunset was the kind of person that Tony wanted to be with, if she could be paid off so easily.
“I think you don’t know the first thing about Tony,” Bucky was saying, and Tony dragged his attention back to his eavesdropping. “I think you don’t appreciate what you’ve got. Tony has money, but you know what? I don’t care about that. I care that he’s smart. I care that he’s clever. I care that his face lights up when he’s discussing engineering, and how he believes that the rules of physics don’t necessarily apply to him. I love the way his eyes crinkle up when he’s happy. And I don’t think there’s enough money in the world to break his heart for you.”
“It won’t last,” Howard said. “I’ve watched him be unable to maintain friendships. He forgets that the real world exists. He forgets to shower, wears dirty clothes, forgets to eat or sleep. He gets lost in his workshop, and then by the time he remembers that other people are real, they’re gone. You’ll end up without him, no matter what. I’m just offering to make it nice and convenient, and on your own timetable. With a sizeable incentive.”
“I think you’re a bastard,” Bucky said. “And now I won’t do it just to goddamn spite you.”
“You’re being foolish,” Howard snarled, all the charm dropping out of his voice.
“Maybe so,” Bucky said. “But being in love makes fools of all of us, doesn’t it, Mr. Stark?”
Tony let his hand drop off the door, backed up a few steps.
It didn’t make sense.
Why wouldn’t Bucky just take the money? He and Tony weren’t actually dating, the money was just a bonus on what was going to happen as soon as they got back to school anyway.
Bucky’d sounded very sincere.
Being in love makes fools of us all…
Tony stopped dead in the hallway.
What?
Bucky slammed the door to Howard’s study open, ready to storm out of the room, then, “Take your hands off me,” he snapped angrily. “I said-- oh, Tony.”
Whatever Howard was ready to say was bitten off behind his teeth as he followed Bucky out into the hall and saw Tony standing there, probably looking like an idiot, gawking.
“Oh, hey, Bucky,” Tony said, wildly, trying to sound nonchalant and probably missing the mark by a mile. “I was looking for you, did you want to, you know, go for a walk, since we’re leaving right after lunch and this’ll be the last opportunity?”
“Yeah, baby,” Bucky said, still glaring at Howard. “That sounds like it’d be great. Let’s go that.”
He was at Tony’s side in a moment, gripping Tony’s arm a little harder than he probably meant to, fingers digging into Tony’s bicep in a painful clench.
“Hi, Dad,” Tony said, waving. “Bye, Dad.”
Howard just stood there, fist clenched.
Probably Howard didn’t think it was worth the effort to assault someone who wasn’t a family member. Although he might reconsider it. Howard had really good lawyers.
“Let’s go,” Bucky said under his breath, not looking back. His shoulders were stiff and Tony was getting a sore jaw, listening to the way Bucky was clenching his teeth.
“Yeah, let’s… let’s do that.”
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Okay the BIG TODAY THING
It seems i might possibly be gone for six months
I've been talking with my support worker about taking a course at this place thats uhh apparantly gonna help me get better with the depressions and stuff. And we had a meeting to go look around the place and make introductions and stuff but i had NO IDEA it would be all such short notice! I might have to move in IN TWO DAYS FROM NOW, what the fuck!!! And like if its not that its gonna be at the end of the week or next tuesday at the latest. Im so fuckin unprepared and im really freakin out!!
..uhh...how to describe it..well i guess its literally a mental asylum? But it's absolutely NOTHING like the horror movie stereotype! Its not a hospital with cages or locked rooms, its just like a big comfy cute shared house. Like a bunch of completely normal small apartment rooms but they just happen to be all connected to a shared kitchen and stuff and have on site nurses and a big schedule of therapy sessions and group activities like pottery class or bowling. You have the freedom to come and go as you please if you're on "voluntarily admitted" status (that's me!) and even if you're on what they call "sectioned" its still not scary loss of all your freedom. The highest level of sectioning is just like "requires an escort"? You're still allowed to go outside but you have a higher level of supervision from your key worker because you could potentially be a danger to yourself. But that's very rare and most people are only on maximum sectioning for a few weeks at the start of their treatment, if they've come straight from a situation of self harm or other concern factors. Most of the "sectioned" patients just have a time limit on how long they can spend on unsupervised outside activity. It's a pretty generous 8 hours apparantly!
So yeah i was getting worried about nothing, thinking i was gonna be in big scary solitary confinement and locked inside a tiny broom closet or jabbed with brain lazers. It honestly just seems like a summer camp resort for adults! And everyone there seems very nice, and im excited for being able to learn life skills like cooking and potential steps towards getting educational qualifications someday. And to have the help of a more specialist support worker who can assist me with even the smallest little problems. Like this nice lady Tazmin (who might be the one i get?) was saying how they've had other people with social anxiety before, and how we could plan "gradual exposure" to all the things that scare me. Like she said she'd be able to come with me and we'd take the bus and them get off at the next stop. That'd honestly be really helpful to help me get over being scared of the crowded spaces on buses, but i'd never be able to do it normally cos i'd be too embarassed taking such a short bus ride. Plus well itd be a waste of money,but if i'm a patient here i would get a free bus pass so it wouldnt be a problem.
Oh and the area seems really nice! Its so different from my stupid house right now in a crowded neighbourhood with NOTHING but houses everywhere for a mile! Its seriously almost a mile's walk to the ONE SINGULAR SHOP IN THE AREA and they close on sundays and dont sell vegetarian food. :( This area around the shared house thingie is a really nice bustling shops place but not super shops? Like i mean its a lovely village that has all the small shops you need, not a huge skyscrapers busy tourist place. The perfect balance of conveinient and not scary! They have a library and a park so close to the place, and a bazillion charity shops holy FUCK im so excited to have charity shops again!! I think you call them thrift shops in america? But i just always really love bargain hunting and finding nice surprises in places like that! And there's places to do pottery classes and group trips sometimes to do stuff like cinema or bowling or just having your big ol scary therapy meeting at the nice coffee shop at the end ot the road.
So yeah dont worry about me guys, im not trapped in some horribke hell place! I'm sure it'll be as non threatening as an Intensive Therapy Boot Camp can possibly be, im just still nervous as hell cos well yeah I Have Social Anxiety And That Is Why I Am Here In The First Place. Im scared im not gonna be able to succeed at this. I really wanna leave at the end and be all mentally buffed up and ready to make all these nice nurses proud!
Oh and man Richard has been so nice about this?? He was super freaked out and apologetic about it being Scary Short Notice, we had a bit of a dumb misunderstanding where he clearly told me and i clearly said yes but i somehow completely misunderstood what he was saying and thought i was saying yes to something else??? So im so fuckin glad that at the very end of the appointment right when i was gonna get out the car he was like 'oh so remember your suitcase on wednesday' and i was like WHAT. Like man can you imagine how much more terrifying it would have been if i just turned up on wednesday with no supplies but the shirt off my back and was like 'wtf where is he driving me OH GOD NO'. Bunni why you so bad at the good of talking!! Seriously richard thanks so much for clearing it up but also AAAAA i accidentally agreed to the shortest of short notice and i dont know if he's gonna be able to reschedule it!!!
And man i was there crying in his car about how i dont wanna be in hospital on my birthday, and babbling all the different things i had planned fot the next few months. And GOD DAMN MY DUMB BRAIN i ended up blurting out that i had a preorder of a videogame that i was gonna miss. And i straight up started explaining pokemon to my mental health counseller who is also a dj, how damn fake does my life sound?? Anyway he said that i'll still be able to keep him as my support worker when i get back out of this, and we'll still have weekly or monthly meetings while i'm in there. And he keeps reminding me that i'm free to leave if i feel uncomfortable, but i know that i'd feel like a failure if i did! So he legit fuckin goddamn said (THIS SOUNDS SO FAKE) that i could take a day off when the dumb game comes out, and he'd play co op pokemon with me. HOLY GEEZUS RICHARD YOU'RE LIKE THAT HOLY GRAIL OF THERAPISTS! And man he even said it wasnt embarassing for me to sleep with a teddy bear and he'd help me pack it up safe and ensure nobody saw it while we move my bags into my new room. And then i was like "uhh but also the teddy bear is a giant lifesize embarassing pokemon merchandise" and he was like "okay so we need DOUBLE STEALTH". Apparantly the new sequel to Pokemon Go is Pokemon Sneak! God he helped calm me down from this freakout so much, he's always great with lil jokes and motivational sayings. And i talked about how i first started being interested in Obscure Deep Sea Slug Facts because pokemon has some characters based on weird real life animals, and like its Very Educational Honest, And Has Appeal For Both Kids And Adults. How on earth did this turn into Motovational Pokemon Blabber Time??? Anyway thats how i ended up texting a professional psychologist pictures of gastrodon at 7.30pm.
SO
Yeah
In summary
I'm mostly just worried cos this is short notice! And cos its such a big commitment that being short notice is Super Bad. I need to friggin clean the whole house top to bottom in two days, so it doesnt get all gross and attract flies while im gone. And i need to toss out like a hundred bucks worth of frozen food that aint gonna keep for 6 months. And i need to wash all my damn clothes. And i dont even have a suitcase and this is at a terrible time where i dont get paid for a week so i cant buy a new one right now!! And damn i DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO TAKE AAAAAA
And the BIGGEST PROBLEM
Is that i wont be able to talk to you guys for half a year!!!
They dont have wifi and im not allowed to take my computer anyway. They only allow laptops and all i have is a desktop and AAAA its too short notice to save up enough to get a laptop mannnnn! Fuck man i didnt even think about that, i need to go pause my broadband internet for six months, do they even allow you to come back after that long?? And man part of me wants to ask to borrow money from friends to get a laptop but i know this time i cant promise to pay you back within the month cos AAAGH ALL OF THIS SHIT!! Like damn man if anyone is willing to let me pay back a hundred and fifty quid in 6 months??not bloody likely!! And man the only place to get a laptop in TWO GODDAMN DAYS is stupid fuckin Amazon :( but god im gonna go stir crazy being unable to do art or gamemaking or friggin anything to occupy myself!! I can bring my 3ds but i barely have any games for it and ive already finished all of them except harvest moon a new beginning which i quit cos it was bad. And the screen is broken anyway gahhh. SO MANY THINGS I NEED MONEY FOR IN SUCH A SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME THAT IS NON CONDUCTIVE TO MONEYING
So anyway GAHH i wont have an internet connection in the house, and i'll be able to walk down the hill and use the library computers hopefully at least weekly, but they forbid all social media sites. So like can i get the emails of everyone who wants to keep in contact? Man i dont know how im gonna manage this AAAAA!!! i will send u loads of pics of scenic asylum beauty and dumb updates on my stupid life of probably very little progress.
And AGGGHHH i dont even have the time to plan a blog queue or anything fuck man geez aaaaaaaa
I NEED TO BUY A NEW PAIR OF TROUSERS WITHOUT HOLES IN THE KNEES man i cant live on singular pantage in a shared house
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Dragon Quest V: Baby Dungeons
Circe here! I've only just started Dragon Quest V, but I've been thinking, given the sheer size of my last post on Dragon Warrior IV, maybe I should be writing shorter, more frequent posts rather than letting a huge amount of plot build up before posting, especially now that the games...actually...have plot. Besides, there's a lot to talk about right off the bat. First thing I should cover is that the SNES version of Dragon Quest V has never been localized to English. Dragon Quests IV through VI eventually got DS remakes that were released in the US, but I'm sticking with the original version of every game, so that means either rolling with a Japanese version or finding a fan translation. I know I talked a big game about playing untranslated games earlier, but these games have gotten a lot more text-heavy in the interrim, so that would probably slow things down a lot. I'm still not ruling out the possibility for future games, but for now, I think this works fine. This does mean that there may be localization choices that aren't consistent with any official localization, so this may be quite interesting, we'll see.
As for the game itself, as you might expect from an early SNES RPG, it's a weird mix of graphical and mechanical improvements paired with weird holdovers from the NES era. I was really hoping that the DOOR/TALK/SEARCH menu items would finally go away, but no, it's still here, and it looks even weirder next to the considerably better SNES graphics. However, with the extra buttons, they've added another button that appears to be a context-sensitive shortcut, so I may be leaning on that a lot instead. Menu navigation on the whole is pretty similar, although our characters have a bigger inventory, and equipment purchasing is even further improved by showing how each item in the shop will change each character's stats. I can't say it's not improved, but we're not really at the point of 'hey, this is a modern RPG now' quite yet. And that's...very weird, actually, because Final Fantasy IV was released the year before this game, and despite also having some weird NES holdovers, the UI is better in almost every way (except purchasing equipment, actually, I have to give DQ5 credit there). In fact, I don't know if Final Fantasy has *ever* had anything like Dragon Quest's clunky menu-driven interaction system, so it's very weird that it's lasted, in some form, for five games. But it's not like I haven't acclimated to it by now, so it's not a big deal.
So what is Dragon Quest V about? Well, it opens with our hero's birth. We see our papa...named Papas...and our mother, whose name I forget, celebrating the baby's birth and fretting over a name. As you might guess, they just happen to settle on a name I picked (Papas initially complains that it sounds 'too feminine', which is weirdly on the nose) and then the mother dies. So, uh...well that's kind of a downer to open on. In any case, our gender is fixed in this game (male, as you might guess) but I can't complain too much, since this one is probably going to be even plot-heavier than in the past. I think our character even talks. But it's a good thing, then, that SEN is a gender-ambiguous name. And no, I'm never going to stop using allcaps.
So, skip ahead to when SEN is a young adult...haha, just kidding, you're six. Apparently, Papas is a bit of a wanderer, but we're on a boat just about to make port in his hometown of Santa Rosa. Here on the ship we're going to get acquainted with one of the big changes in Dragon Quest V. At least here in the early game, you're pretty hemmed in, and the game expects you to talk to NPCs in the area in order to advance the plot. A far cry from the wide-open world of Dragon Warrior, but it's little surprise, since each game up to this point has taken little steps in this direction. And our character is, after all, six. Once we reach the dock, Papas immediately busies himself talking to some guy, so of course we wander off and immediately get into an encounter with some slimes. After a couple turns of feeble swings at the monsters, Papas steps in to protect us, taking out the slimes easily with blows upwards of 70 damage. So okay, he's pretty tough. He heals us, and we walk the short distance from the dock to Santa Rosa. This is a scripted sequence where Papas leads the way, but there are still random encounters like normal (okay, they're probably scripted, but it gives the appearance of random encounters). Papas handles the monsters with ease, and we head into town.
Here Papas bumps into the wife of his friend who runs an inn in the nearby town of Alcapa. Apparently, he has fallen ill, and his wife came here to get medicine. And we meet her daughter Bianca, who quickly gets bored of listening to the adults talk, and goes upstairs with us to pass the time. Being two years older, she's able to read, a little, so she takes out a book to read to us. It doesn't take her long to give up, though, complaining that the words are too difficult. It's not long before Bianca's mother comes to pick her up, and then it's just us and Papas again.
Papas seems to be a bit of an inattentive father, to be honest. He's busy with grown-up stuff, and we're left to our own devices. You can wander around town and talk to people, and find out that a man who went to find the medicine has gone into the nearby cave and hasn't come out, or you can, like me, just find the cave and decide this is an excellent idea without finding out why you should go there. There's a guard keeping six year old children from wandering out of town, but the cave is unguarded -- well, no, that's not true, there is a guard by the cave entrance, but he merely warns you that going into the cave is a bad idea and it's not his fault if you get lost. I know we're an RPG hero, but I want you to consider for a moment that by all reasonable standards, this adult human just stands there and watches as a literal six year old wanders to his likely death. Oh well. It would've been inconvenient if he'd stopped us. Don't let the fact that we're six years old give you the idea that we won't be fighting slimes, bats, and moles, or buying weapons and armor at the local shops. It's much funnier to instead picture our hero beating monsters to death with a stick using his tiny baby arms.
At the bottom of the dungeon we find the man trapped under the rock, and give him a hand. So, uh, probably good that someone came down here eventually. That done, Bianca and her mother are ready to return to Alcapa. Papas doesn't like the idea of them traveling on their own, though, so the four of us set out together. Once the medicine is delivered, Papas seems anxious to leave, but it seems that Papas's friends wants him to stay awhile and he, relucantly, agreed. I get the impression that Papas is concerned with...something. Something that's keeping him from his family and friends. But it's too early to say what it is, really. I'll admit, it reminds me of my time playing Taloon in Dragon Warrior IV, getting up in the morning and leaving his family every day to go stab monsters, except this time I'm the child instead. Did Taloon's kid understand why he left for so long, or why they eventually uprooted their lives to move to the much bigger and busier city of Endor? There's no telling, I suppose.
Alcapa is pretty similar to Santa Rosa, although it has a nicer shop and no dangerous open cave for children to wander into. Here, we spend more time with Bianca, and if we chat around a bit, we find a couple more kids tormenting a cat, presumably for no other reason than that they're assholes with nothing better to do. We try to intervene, and they tell us they'll let the cat go if we go fight ghosts in the haunted castle to the north. Okay. This seems a little artificial, especially since, if we're strong enough to do that, we're strong enough to deal with these little shits, but the quest is clear, so that's what we gotta do. We can only leave town at night when the guard is asleep, but that's no big deal, since the shops and everything are still open.
Bianca starts out at level 1 with pretty pitiful equipment, so the first thing I do is grind -- mostly for gold, but I get some decent levels in the process. This game introduces an interesting new feature -- weapons that can hit multiple enemies. I get a boomerang for myself, which can hit every enemy, and a thorn whip for Bianca, which can hit a single enemy group. The downside is that they do less damage to each consecutive enemy, but it's still a huge benefit, reducing large enemy groups to nothing in one or two strikes.
With that done, we head north to Lenoire Castle. I think one purpose of this dungeon is to show off a lot of the new event scripting stuff, kinda like Taloon's chapter in Dragon Warrior IV. This place is pretty damn haunted, with object moving around, doors opening on their own, and, uh, also there's ghosts everywhere trying to kill us. That's, I guess, the biggest hint probably. But it's also clear that they wanted to show off what this new engine can do. Along the way, we meet the ghosts of the former king and queen of the castle, who are apparently being hassled by bad ghosts. Eventually we meet the boss of the bad ghosts, called...Boss Ghost...and he's pretty tough. Bianca drops in this fight, which kinda sucks, but I get through it. Oh, and offensive spells and attacks are finally animated, which is a touch that has been sorely missing until now (our characters don't appear on-screen, so naturally, anything that targets them is not animated). With that done, the good ghosts are at peace, and we get...oh no. A Gold Orb. I mean, okay, we don't know what it's for yet, but I'm wary of generic macguffins at this point.
We hang onto the orb and head back to Alcapa. The shitty kids let us have the cat, and it joins our party...uh, apparently it's a baby panther, which raises a lot of questions about why it's tame and in town. But whatever. Bianca names it Borongo. I think we can rename it if we want, but I decide not to. Papas leads us back home, and we leave Bianca behind, but Borongo sticks with us. Back in Santa Rosa, there doesn't seem to be much going on at first. A lot of townsfolk are complaining about random little objects going missing, which sounds significant. Eventually, if we poke around, we see what appears to be a ghost. The ghost is surprised we can see her, and she says she's been messing with people in order to try and get their attention. Apparently she's really an elf, visiting the human world through some kind of, spirit projection I guess? She leads us to the basement of our home where nobody else is around, and says that the world of elves needs help, and we need to go there right away. Um...so everything I know about fantasy tells me that when an elf tells a very small child to go to their world with them, it's a pretty bad idea. But this isn't really that sort of story, and we don't really have a choice, so off we go.
In the world of elves, we're told that a magical flute has been stolen, and we need to get it back, because they need it to change the seasons, so the human world will fall into eternal winter without it. That sounds pretty bad. The elves have a lot of confidence that a six year old child and his cat can fix this problem, but to be fair, we've got a surprisingly good track record up to this point.
Well, that's all for now. I guess I was right to start writing a new post now, because this turned out to be pretty long anyway. I guess these posts might end up getting a lot more frequent to keep up with the plot, so stay tuned!
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