#just wanna take 6 months off and get a certificate.

[dayisfading]

lol just gonna vent about work for a second:

i'm realizing why (aside from the bullshit accommodation situation) i have been feeling so demoralized at work lately. our newest team member is about 8 months in now, so he is taking on more and more responsibilities, which includes data visualization bc he knows tableau. blah blah blah, i won't go into the details of what's gone on the last two months but i had a very frustrating experience with a project i was working with him on.

anyway, what's bugging me is this: this huge initiative that we compile/analyze/report the data for has been central for my entire time in this role; when i got here, we had hardly any data. i was central to compiling basically all of it, providing descriptive analytics and some basic visualizations (so. many. excel. charts.) there's not many people on my team, so truly, i think it's fair to say i have the most thorough understanding of this data, not just in terms of what it represents for this initiative, but also what it takes to compile it.

so it frustrates me for someone to come in who has significant experience with data analysis tools but less experience (seemingly) with like, being in the trenches with data. i don't know how else to explain it, but like, we're talking merging, compiling, analyzing and visualizing data all with excel! versus running code on a dataset that you were just given & not actually spending a lot of time in the data. (this is how a bunch of errors almost ended up in a pretty big presentation!)

also, on a related note, i am frustrated with my position because i do have to spend so much time mired in data, i don't have a whole lot of time to learn and implement new skills, but i have all of this analytic understanding courtesy of my two soc degrees that i never get to use! it's not about not liking what i do, it's just feeling like i'm slightly being pushed out of things i was central to building and simultaneously feeling like i'm lowest on the totem pole.

and i'm also like, slightly jaded in this weird backwards way because i don't understand why i was promoted in the context of all this lmao. it sucks to feel like i need more education to be able to advance in my field because the only skills i'm developing rn are with antiquated tools.

[slotmoara]

How to Be a Yoga Instructor: 6 Things You MUST Know Before You Begin

Yoga is Not Just For The Experts Number one, being a yoga teacher is not about being able to do all the fancy, complicated poses, like headstand, or forearm stand, or some of the arm balances.

What it’s actually about is cuing, which means effectively using your voice to tell people what to do with their bodies, and compassion.

So cuing and compassion.

So don’t get down on yourself if you can’t do all the super fancy things, because really good teachers are about great cuing and being extremely compassionate and loving with their students.

After all, yoga is a form of healing arts.

This doesn’t always come naturally to everyone and that’s okay. You can develop it with hands-on experience and will likely learn it in your teacher training education.

Understand the Yoga Alliance Number two, certification in the yoga world is something that’s very much in flux. Yoga’s not really regulated by the state or at the national level.

So you can pay Yoga Alliance for permission to use their RYT trademark after your name, but it doesn’t actually, really mean anything at the government, state, or national level. Yoga Alliance certifications don’t expire, but they do lapse. If you choose to register with the Yoga Alliance, you’ll need to do a few things every year or two to maintain your certification.

So it may or may not be worth doing, based on your personal goals.

If you wanna deep-dive with me into what certification really means, I absolutely suggest you listen to this podcast, where I go into a lot more detail.

So what is an RYT certification for, then?

It’s mostly for yoga and fitness studios in the US to assure that the yoga instructors they hire have completed a minimum level of education as a yoga instructor. It doesn’t, however, ensure that you actually practice yoga, that you have any teaching skills, or that your training program was of high quality.

While it is certainly helpful when applying for a teaching job at a yoga studio, it’s not necessary for other more lucrative teaching gigs (like being an online yoga instructor).

If you’re clear about your goals for your training program, then you’ll be more clear about whether or not an RYT certification is necessary.

Choose a Teacher Training Program Number three, you definitely wanna do some kind of yoga teacher training (YTT).

Beyond the certification that formal training provides, there are several major benefits to taking YTT that will take your commitment to yoga practice to the next level.

The most common format is to do what’s called a 200-hour teacher training.

So you cover a lot of material in 200 hours, everything from teaching, anatomy, and philosophy. You wanna do research on where you do this 200-hour training because it’s really gonna teach you everything you need to know about how to be a successful teacher.

슬롯사이트 While most yoga studios will focus on vinyasa yoga or vinyasa flow in their certification program, you can totally choose a yoga instructor training that focuses on the yoga and meditation style that most interests you. There are many types of yoga, from restorative yoga, prenatal yoga, yoga Nidra, and Ashtanga yoga, to yin yoga, you definitely have a lot to choose from.

You can do a 200-hour training all at once, in a month-long in-person intensive, over the course of many weekends, or you can even do a 200-hour training online. There are a lot of different types of training depending on the style of yoga, like:

Get Some Practice Teaching Yoga Step number four is, you want to practice… so teach. I think a lot of people think they’re gonna do their 200-hour certification and feel really confident right off the bat.

The reality is it takes years to build up that confidence, to have a presence in your teaching, to really have a strong voice.

So you wanna start practice teaching everyone you can.

Teach your mom, your dog, anyone who’ll listen to you. Offer free yoga classes and practice yoga both on and off the yoga mat.

Just start logging those teaching hours, because, just like anything in life, the more you do it, the better you’re gonna get.

While you certainly learn to teach in training courses, it doesn’t mean that you’re necessarily ready to do so. Just like knowing the yoga asanas doesn’t mean that you can stick them, knowing teaching methodology doesn’t mean that you’re ready.

So get as much experience as you can!

You Might Also Like: 13 Yoga Playlists for Every Style and Taste

Start Making Money Teaching Yoga Step five is charging 릴게임 money for people to take your classes. This could mean that you’re teaching in a studio, or maybe you’re hosting events in your home.

Maybe you’re teaching in corporations, like you’re going into businesses, and teaching there, or partnering with local restaurants to have yoga and wine nights.

You could lead retreats.

You could teach yoga online, like me.

There have never been more opportunities to find success as a yoga teacher in the way that you really enjoy, and are passionate about.

Build a Mailing List ASAP Step six is to start a mailing list.

Have a way that you can keep in touch with the people who come and probably really enjoy your classes.

To me, this is even more important than most other marketing tactics as a yoga instructor. It will help keep you top of mind so that when your network needs a yoga teacher, they know to come to you.

Get Yoga Insurance And last, but not least, don’t forget to get yoga insurance. Once you have that, you are truly in business, and I will link to beYogi, which is my top pick, in the cards and description below.

If you’re considering the yoga teacher training journey, I have dozens of free podcasts all about how to pick a training that best meets your needs, the exact questions to ask, tips and tricks to make the most out of your training experience, and how to know if you’re ready to take the plunge.

And, of course, I offer an online yoga teacher training course that will walk you through all of it.

[icequeen1371]

My daughter made me a sushi bowl to cheer me up😭💜I had to tell my good friend that I can’t make it to her wedding in late Oct. I was REALLY looking forward to it & planned so hard for it. Got my passport applied for in time so it would be mailed to me in plenty of time, saved money (what little I could cuz I’m on a super tiny fixed income) and got some cool little things for the bride & her groom that we’re suited to their likes and personality. Even made a Wicca box for her to store her tarot cards in, my daughter made the bride a necklace....so much planning. Then my bff who was supposed to have her shot together, discovers she needs a certain certificate for her passport application and she tries getting it from the courthouse, and after 6 weeks it still hasn’t come in. She swore she had her shot together and no problem no problem, don’t worry, we’re going FOR SURE, it’ll be so much fun, we really need this get away etc and all this was after her telling her brother and stepsister that she couldn’t go to a weeklong trip to Cuba the week before that because she would only be getting back the day before we had to make a 10 Hour Dr. to Kentucky. And she was in such a bitchy mood when she told me yesterday too. Just blurted it out. “Yeah, you know we’re not gonna be going right?“. She’s done a lot of work on yourself, but honestly? When she gets in moods like that, it makes me think she did it on purpose. Because at her core when something does not concern her or she feels as though her life is getting terrible [she’s one of those FML people that lets one thing ruin her entire day] she gets extremely selfish and starts talking like she wants to end it all. She never means it. Ever. And she says it like it’s a joke like it’s OK to say it just because she’s in a bad mood. As though that something that’s OK to joke about. Meanwhile, myself and my daughter are in the car, both with depression and taking meds for it, and she saying stuff like that. Really? But it’s like those people that have blind tempers, they don’t notice the effect that they’re having on other people until afterwards pet. I’m not excusing it at all, trust me. Pisses me off when she does it and it makes me resent her. But still. Anyways, it’s starting to feel like she did it on purpose. Like I said. It doesn’t mean she is, I could just be resentful and pissy that her ADHD had her sit on her ass for the 2 1/2 months prior when she had plenty of money to apply for her passport and should have done so, but didn’t. Just pisses me off. Because honestly, if I had my own car, I have my passport. I have the money. I would just go on my own. Anyone in Southwest Ontario wanna go to a costumed wedding the weekend before Halloween? LOL paid glamping tent included? LOL JK. Anyways, someone ordered a cheer me up, this is what my daughter made me. I slept in a lot today which I really need it. But after a very very long bath I was scrubbing myself from head to toe, my chronic illness kicked in and I’m absolutely exhausted. But then I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. So she made me this. Made me notice that I’m actually starving. I have a funny feeling that from now until November 1, I’m going to be depressed and in this mood and getting easily triggered by saying Halloween things or a forest with changing leaves because we were going to be in the middle of a forest for the wedding, it’s just making me feel like I want to skip fall this year which is very much not like me. Siiiiiiigh. And of course I’m coping with it all by using dark humor, sarcasm and putting LOL at the end of everything. Make no wonder people never think of me as bad off as I say I am. 

[shhthesecretdiary]

Thought Dump (Aug 6, 2023, 12:32 AM)

Go ahead, put anything.

Sorna, yan kasi nakalagay before ako magtype.

Anyway,

This is attempt to produce something rather than spending a shit ton of time scrolling through different social media platforms.

Currently it is Sunday midnight, so day off. And, since I can barely get my shit together, I will write something about my life so far.

It always saddens me how I always fall short of my goals for myself. I can always start, but it is really so hard for me to be consistent and to see something 'til the end.

8th of July, I subscribed to a gym membership for 1 month. I did about 3 sessions and that was it. :( I had a lot of complains, which is true that I always feel pain on my calves, making it so hard to move them. Also, one of my pain points was that I have no effin idea what to do there, I had a personal training session during the first day, but that was too tough, I wished it was a taken a little bit slowly. Feel ko nabigla katawan ko. So I rested, and that lasted for weeks. Mageexpire na yung one month bayad, it's out of my budget to go for another month, so my goal is to lose weight first through waling and AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE, PLEASE, LESSEN FOOD INTAKE AND BE WARY ABOUT WHAT I EAT.

Okay next aspect, work. I had finished my probation period last 24th of July, got the salary increase notification on the 25th, I'd be lying if I said I am satisfied with the increase, but I had to take into account na 'di pa rin ako magaling, 'di ko nababalanse yung tasks ko, nahihiya pa rin ako magtanong, still have no idea with corporates, still struggle with conversations, takot pa rin sa f2f convos with client, and still not in close relations with all of them. Bano pa rin. But I just hope they consider that my pay isn't enough in the first place. Pero sabagay, credentials ko rin.

Another, life. Hay, ang inet jusko. So far neutral pa rin ako, walang travel twing weekend, wala ring masyadong mayayang friends. Pero all in all mainit rin kasi. It takes a lot of energy and money to go out. And I wanna sleep in. Hopefully I'd get to try a lot of things soon. Once the weather is fine and I have enough money. Travel galore na. I'd really like to enjoy my youth and have something to look forward to aside from sleeping. To try something new and to explore. PERO PERA!!! I am also not on track with my budget.

Next, education. Ilang buwan na ako dito sa UAE, ilang buwan na rin akong 'di nagrereview for CPALE. Sometimes I just want to move out of here and live somewhere near the office, with my own apartment. Then sing alone, exercise, make my own food, then lesser time for commute, more time for myself. But still, money, and for sure mama will not agree. I also lost my streak to Duolingo French and finding it hard to go back. Consistency issues. My Coursera certification was buried na, and for the taxes and laws here, idk anymore.

Health, I feel like this has been my shittiest physical appearance, the worst look I've ever been. 73kg with a lot of acne, no menstruation for two months, losing a lot of hair, and I'm already numb. Lack of sleep during weekdays, oversleeping on the weekends.

Creativity, I feel like I am losing touch on the things I loved to do before. Art, music. Singing, Dancing, Recording, Video Editing, trying to do photography. Will make a conscious effort to try and produce some art again.

Hay, for the wins: Got credited for a Lexis Nexis article with Daisy for UAE Corporate Tax, working on another one I absolutely have no idea about, getting a hang of my work so far, and got inspired by Bhavika to read books once again. I loved The Kite Runner so much! Currently reading The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto. Another work of Khaled Hosseini next, which would be A Thousand Splendid Suns.

I am pretty much neutral now. But at the back of my mind, a lot of my "falling short" moments haunt me. But maybe this attempt on being aware of this would be the start to acting towards it.

Checklist:

Create a budget tracker now, kahit through Zoho. Ipon for travel to Caucasus.

Increase steps 10,000-15,000.

Make conscious steps to edit life videos

Start reviewing for CPALE again.

Connect with people more.

Fix sleep sched, and conscious eating (but writing this @ 1am)

Oil hair and minoxidil (pls), skincare

Be organized

Try to do something new often

Embrace your feminine energy and take care of myself more.

Mindet and action.

Marami pa, and this is very vague tbh but ayon, I need to sleep na rin.

Good midnight.

[goldenraeofsun]

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

[marauder-exe]

Roommates- Sebastian Stan x Reader

Request: sebastian stan & reader are shooting a movie together in atlanta &his place gets flooded so they become roommates. at first he only sees her like a little sister since shes much younger than him (22) but then started seeing her differently while living together but doesnt realize it so he does nothing. then during the press tour and premiere for the movie fans noticed how he would look at her all the time &it got them trending in social media forcing him to finally admit his feelings to her 🙈

Word Count: 1.6k

Your eyes shot open as you heard the incessant loud knocking on your apartment door. You sleepily got up from your bed and headed towards the door. You groggily it wondering who the hell was knocking at 3 in the damn morning! To your surprise, it was Sebastian Stan. You and Sebastian had become fast friends a few months ago. You had been hired as the cool best friend in a new movie that was being made in Atlanta. Sebastian was the lead, so you would be spending a lot of time together, which you didn't mind. And soon you were close, closer to him than anyone else, and it was amazing. But why was he at your door at 3am? You were hoping it was some sappy declaration of love at 3am like you see in the movies, but you knew it wasn't, he only saw you as a sister. “Seb? What are you doing here? Come in come in” You rushed him in, turning on the lights. He had a lot of stuff in boxes with him. “Is everything alright?” He was cold and shivering. You sat him down on the sofa then you got up and went to the kitchen area, turning on the kettle. “Uh, one of my neighbours did something, not entirely sure what, but he ended up flooding the entire floor of apartments. So my apartment and a lot of my stuff got ruined, and I have nowhere to stay.” He explained. You returned to the sofa with two hot chocolates, Sebastian's favourite. “Of course you can stay here Seb, you can stay in my room” You sipped your hot chocolate and lay a hand on his arm. “I couldn't take your bed, ‘m already staying in your house, ill just take the couch” You gave him a look. “Seb” “(Y/N)” You sighed. “Fine, but I'm gonna get you lots of blankets alright” He nodded as you got up to go to the cupboard in the next room. Sebastian looked around your apartment. It was quaint, cute, full of life. You had many things hanging from the walls. Posters of some movies you've been in, certificates from childhood, even your graduation. You had graduated from a top drama school with a scholarship last year, coincidentally on the same day as your 21st birthday. It was a wild, drunken night. He smiled at the memory. Soon enough you returned with a heap of blankets in your arms. Sebastian immediately rushed over to help you with the big ball of blankets. He dropped them on the couch as you took a deep breath. You tiredly giggled and lay your head on his chest, sighing. “You sure you're alright? You did just lose your entire lively hood in water” You looked up at him. “Yeah ill be fine” He waved it off. “As long as Ive got my best girl ill be fine” He smiled down at you as you smiled back. “Come on, let's get to bed, you've had a long day” You said your goodbyes and went to bed. You stared up at the ceiling. Sebastian was living with you now. Damn. Eventually you drifted off into sleep.

You awoke a few hours later to the smell of fresh pancakes coming from your kitchen. Honestly, Sebastian was something else. You jumped out of bed, wearing shorts and a vest top, slipping on your socks. You walked into the kitchen, the smell getting stronger. You spotted Sebastian with a spatula in his hand near the oven. “Alright love, fancy a pancake?” He smiled nonchalantly. You rushed over to him and placed a huge kiss on his cheek. “Oh my gosh I love you!” You sat down at the table, chomping down on the pancake, as you heard him throw his head back in laughter. “Its the least I could do” You mumbled something inaudible because of the pancake in your mouth and he laughed again. “Slow down, (Y/N)” He said as he slipped into the seat next to you with his own pancakes, you just gave him a smile. “So, any news on your apartment?” You asked, gulping down your pancakes. He nodded his head, taking a bite of his pancake. “They called an hour ago, they said there's a lot of damage and they wont know anything until next week” You nodded along. “Well you're free to stay here as long as you need” He smiled at you. You went to put your dishes away, and for the first time all day Sebastian actually looked at you, and you were beautiful. You were laughing at something random, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. Actual butterflies. He swore that only happened in movies. He had only seen you in a sisterly way up until now, now he was seeing you differently.

“Seba! Come on!” You shouted towards your room. Sebastian came rushing out in his 3 piece suit. “Damnnnn, Sebby got game!” You both laughed. “Do I look okay?” You questioned, giving one last glance in the mirror. “Of course, you look beautiful” He gave you a kiss on the cheek “Now come on! We don't wanna be late for your first press tour!” Sebastian rushed you into the car before you set off. Sebastian had been living with you for the past 6 months, and tonight was the press tour for the new movie you guys were in. Your first press tour, and you where glad it was with Sebastian. You made small talk, talking about how excited you were for your first press tour while Seb stared at you in admiration. He was glad he was with his best friend at her first press tour. The car came to a holt outside the hall. You stared outside at the huge hall, a starstruck look on your face, Sebastian looked over to you, wonder struck, and laughed. He loved seeing that look on your face. The same face you made the first time on set. He opened the car door and jumped out, making his way around the car to open your door for you. He held out his hand and you took it. “Ever the gentleman, Seba” You cooed. “Only for you” he responded, dragging you into the venue. There was paparazzi everywhere, cameras flashing constantly. It was a dream. Sebastian grabbed your hand and you flushed, looking down. He flushed as well. “You ready Sebby?” “Ready (Y/N/N)?” You both nodded and pushed open the doors. You heard a chorus of questioning interviewers, and paparazzi shouting you over. ‘Here (Y/N)’ ‘look over here Sebastian’. You stared up at him with a gigantic smile, finding he was already looking at you, he had an arm wrapped protectively around your waist. “Im so happy” You whispered. “Me too, smile for the camera” A smile reached his eyes and he looked back toward the cameras.

You and Sebastian barged through the doors to your apartment, kicking your shoes off and collapsing on the couch. You both let out a deep sigh, exhausted from the press tour. “That was one hell of a day” You sighed. “Your telling me” He chuckled. “i don't know about you but im ready for the biggest sleep of my life” You nodded in agreement as he took of his tie. He lay on the couch with his arm around you, too tired to move. Thats how you both fell asleep, for the next 12 hours, in each others arms. Until you were rudely woken up at 11am by your phone buzzing, Sebastian stirring and opening his eyes. “’mmm you alright, love?” His sleepy voice was heaven. “Yeah, my phones blowing up though” You said with furrowed brows. “Dude you and Sebastian are trending on twitter!” You read out the message from your best friend. “Guess the press tour photos are released” He chuckled. “Lets see whats trending then” He sat up to look at your phone. You opened up twitter and number one on trending was ‘AviPressTour’ which was no surprise, but on number two trending was ‘SebastiansCrush’. You gave him a confused glance. “What?” He asked, and you let him see your phone as you clicked on the hashtag. Your screen became filled with heartbroken teenage girls, and pictures of Sebastian lovingly staring at you, with a hand around your waist. One was entitled ‘i want someone to look at me the way Sebastian looks at (Y/N), you smiled at it. Sebastian gulped as he looked at the screen. Man he hated twitter. The top news story, ‘Is Sebastian Stans new boo only 22?’ It made you feel intimidated and uncomfortable. You knew Seb wouldn't like you like that because of your age. “Wo- woah, thats- thats crazy-” Sebastian stuttered, face red. No? He couldnt like you like that. Hell Sebastian didn't even knew he liked you like that until 2 minutes ago. Suddenly, every time he looked at you he felt like he was going to burst if he didn't kiss you. “Sebastian?” You questioned tentatively, turning to face him. He gulped. “Yeah?” “You like me, don't you?” You asked quietly, as if it was a secret never to be told. He stared at you, the same way he did last night, still in the same tuxedo and dress, day old makeup on. You looked as beautiful as ever. Without even thinking, he grabbed you and kissed you, its like his body had a mind of its own. You moved against each other, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You broke apart breathing heavily. “Yeah” He breathed. You stared at him quizzically. “What?” “Yes I like you” He spoke quietly, not daring to pierce the thick air with his voice. So you kissed him, as passionate as he kissed you, and smiled. You both lay against the couch, limbs tangled into each other. Bliss.

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

For the two AUs, 15 and 51 for Marlene?

15- Criminal AU & 51- Accidentally Married (I’ve never written anything related to being accidentally married so this should be interesting! Also, lots of holes in between because I’m just going to write the relevant plot points that include the two AUs. Feel free to fill in the blanks or if you wanna know the lil things I’ve got in between, feel free to spam my DMs or ask box xD

i. (Some exposition) In the modern era, Marya is a well known criminal from the lower class who often went by the alias, The Terrible Dragon. She is fierce in combat as she was in using fire as her weapon of choice (from handmade flamethrowers strapped to her wrists). She manipulates shadow and light to conceal herself as she proceeds with her acts of crime, and it’s hard to believe that she’s just some ordinary woman. She’s agile, skilled and a very very dangerous woman. Many people have commisioned her to do their dirty jobs for a good price which she very willingly does. However, she does not kill. The most she would do is break-in and steal for her benefit as well as her goddaughters. Hélène, simply being a curious woman, finds herself hunting Marya down and she eventually runs into the woman on the streets, and their first meeting is, well, rather steamy with tension. 

ii.  How they find themselves accidentally married? Much later into the friendship they created, Marya is finally comfortable enough to attend the events Hélène hosts with her brother and best friend, Anatole and Dolokhov. They’ve all already developed some form of knowing one another so Marya is highly aware of who the two of them are. Anatole and Dolokhov can literally smell the chemistry off of them and so there’s some lingering scheme at the back of their heads that only they would find funny. Eventually, Marya becomes far too comfortable. A lot of drinks were passed around to both Marya and Hélène by Anatole’s own hand and Dolokhov prepares for the scheme. Once Hélène and Marya are intoxicated enough, the two men thought it would be funny if they orchestrated some wedding for them with actual certificates. With Anatole, he had resources to anything and so this was how it happened.

iii.  Upon discovery that they were accidentally married, Marya begins to push Hélène away for so many reasons. One of them is because she does not want Hélène getting involved with her criminal business for the sake of her safety and most importantly, Hélène certainly deserved someone better. Sure, they could have gotten a divorce but it’s the marriage that makes Marya realize that she’s caught feelings too. When Marya vanishes, Hélène is heartbroken. At first she doesn’t understand why she’s all heartbroken until she realizes, ‘Hey, I actually do love her...’ And why does she love Marya? She’s brought her more thrill in her life than anyone in her 28 years of living, and her presence (no matter how snarky Marya can be) is so very comforting. With no word from Marya for months, Hélène returns to her old boring life but she can’t get married. After checking in with the papers, they’ve been registered and she’s officially married. It’s just surprising that Marya hasn’t done anything yet to break it off.

iv.  They meet again under much worse circumstances almost a year later. Marya falls into a trap when she follows a false lead that brought her into an empty house where she’s caught. She’s caught by other criminals who were commissioned by the police to get her with the reward of being excused of all their charges. It becomes a rather violent scene since Marya has to try to escape from a group of skilled men and women. The whole thing ends in a mess and Marya loses this battle, horribly. Locked up, Marya is informed that her spouse has been notified about her arrest and Marya takes that as a joke, even boldly laughing at the news.. She hasn’t forgotten Hélène but some part of her wonders if she will actually come. She thinks Hélène won’t come since she abandoned her months ago and she thinks she’s right because Hélène doesn’t show up that day. However, she does the next day with bail money. Hélène’s rich enough, please, and since Marya hasn’t done anything too severe besides steal A LOT OF THINGS, she’s free to go.

v.   Hélène even voluntarily drives Marya back to wherever her home is but it’s awfully quiet. There is something in Hélène’s demeanor that gives away her inward sadness and distress, despite how composed she is, They have not even exchanged a single word since Hélène arrived, unless you counted Hélène’s offer to drive her back then maybe just around 6 words from one end. When they reach Marya’s home, neither one of them moves or speaks until Hélène asks Marya why she isn’t getting out of the car. Marya tries to apologize but Hélène doesn’t want to hear it, saying that she’s gotten past it already and that Marya would be apologizing for nothing. Hélène hardly makes any eye contact either which distresses Marya because it just seems like she’s become an unbearable sight. DRAMATIC EFFECT. Hélène whips out the divorce papers that she’s already signed stating that once this was signed, they’d have no more reason to see each other and they could move on with their lives. Marya, who’s bewildered, admits why she ran and she didn’t think it would affect Hélène so badly. Hélène doesn’t respond and Marya takes that as her cue to leave.

vi.  Did you think there was going to be a happy ending? :) Nope. The divorce papers are finalized and they do go about their lives without each other’s involvement. The only thing that brings them together? Hélène and Pierre’s wedding. Since Pierre and Marya are close friends, they have monthly visits. There is no love in their marriage but it’s funny to see how they’re happy. Pierre certainly is no match for Hélène but they made it work, and it was something Marya could have done long ago had she not been a coward. 

[smolbeandrabbles]

Selfish pt.8 - Sheriff of Nottingham x Reader (Robin Hood 2018)

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

Author’s Note: This sat in my drafts for ages with a note screaming that I had all the plot points and just had to write it. At least it made me chuckle every time I looked at it! But it’s finally done! And I get to bring you more of the Sheriff and his Norse Goddess. (Come on, we know she is.)

I read this back out loud and made myself laugh a bunch of times. But also there are SO many great conversations in this. It’s another piece of mine I like very much 🥰

Disclaimer: Robin Hood characters & plot not mine  / mad world still courtesy of Otto Bathust / lyrics not mine

Premise: The more you look at Nottingham the more you see corruption in it’s power structure, and you turn to the one man you can confront. There are things that you want to move forward with in your relationship, but not until you’re on exactly the same page...

Words: 9575

Warnings: Sexual Pre-Amble / All the plot threads for the movie pick up and our girl is not best pleased with any of them / Scars/Sheriff’s Backstory

______

I tried to warn her this ain’t a friendly game It’s just warfare by a different name She won’t listen so I’m tryin' to pretend That I don’t know how the story’s gonna end It’s like a tight rope hangin' by a thread A vicious cycle where no one comes out ahead She’s divin’ in to try to save a drowning man But I’ll take her down with me if I can My heart stays locked away somewhere You’re the reason that it’s there

---

Fighting for the things you give me I wanna share your love Feelin' like a wounded soldier Strength is not enough And I can't win this battle on my own My sword has long been buried Piled on with dirt Speak to me your promises Resurrect your word I'll rise up and be your voice I made my choice This is my story Your songs are stored inside my heart So break me apart It's for your glory Let it pour out of me Let it pour out of me It's for your glory So ride out on your wings of love Show me that you're here Cast down on my enemies Trembling with fear Cuz I can't win this battle on my own No I can't win this battle on my own I'll rise up and be your voice I made my choice This is my story

---

Months more passed into your marriage, and you could happily - hand-on-heart - say that you were enjoying it. Askel became a little softer on it, but kept trying to point out that he wouldn’t see it as a real marriage until at least he was involved. When you put it to Marcus, as the witness, he simply held his hands up. “Look, I just did what I was asked. But if it was just for a certificate to prove something… I dunno if it counts.” You would let the Church argue that one. Tuck would have the answer, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to hear it or not. It was a marriage, and that’s what Wil was putting to the people, documents standing or not. It wasn’t something you even had to push down or to the back of your mind, it was just something you never thought on. At least your brother was starting to realise how much happier you were now, and that your husband continued to make you happy. That was what mattered. And their relationship was certainly getting better because of it. Askel’s English was broken, and his accent at times make it difficult (not that he cared), but he was trying now. That made you proud of him, especially when the Sheriff responded in kind with Norse. That made Askel happy – to see you were not the only one trying in your relationship. Both of you were making an effort for the other.  It had Askel thinking this might work after all, although on occasion he’d grumble to you about not getting the opportunity to stab the guy on behalf of your father, and then take you back home. Teasingly you offered to let Askel return home but he always refused, preferring to ‘protect’ you. Although you weren’t sure you needed it. Askel did like spending a lot of time down at the docks now, however, as the Norse ships started arriving – you knew he was enjoying being around your people again. You weren’t always on duty with your guard, and you had them all pretty well trained by now. Marcus liked to, on occasion, give you breaks and you seemed to be given a lot more advisory meetings to attend. Luckily Lucian was still around to help you with those. You weren’t sure you wanted to put unnecessary stress on someone who was meant to be retiring, but he simply chuckled: “My dear, these are the hardest fought battles. Political ones, you’re doing excellent work out there I can already see that. But now I must help you master these. Besides, I would feel better doing something for the Sheriff. Wil does need guidance on occasion! He made the right choice with you, of that I am certain.” He didn’t need to add that statement, and you were certainly humbled. You were done with those today, though, and you knew that Wil would be busy for the rest of his own. Considering how much complaining he’d done this morning whilst dressing. To save him from leaving looking riled up – especially as the Lords decided to make it their mission to collect him - you pulled him back from the door at the last second and into a fierce kiss. At least he’d left with a smile, if not a yearning to spend the remainder of his day alone with you. He’d been continually busy for the past few weeks, and less time could therefore be spent with him outside of quiet morning and night hours. You were aware that during this time Vesper had been able to stretch his legs less and less, and that horse was growing restless. You were off duty, and with nothing else much to do other than read or sit with your thoughts, you believed you could provide the perfect solution. You approached the Sheriff’s office fairly cautiously, greeted with a smile by Alden, who was now every so often joining your guard in training. Although you seldom saw the point, because he was already very good. He didn’t need you – but he wanted to be involved and that was sweet. “Good day, my lady.” He stood to attention and you politely inclined your head, “How is he?” “On and off. You’ll be welcome respite.” “What a shame that it is only to ask one question, is he with anyone?” “No, and he’d prefer for it to be kept that way until his next meeting. Of course, you will be a notable exception.” “I’ll knock anyway!” And you did so, but didn’t wait for a response before entering. “…Oh, thank God. I was beginning to think my personal guard wasn’t doing his job.” “You specifically told him I could enter?” “I don’t think he’d stop you.” Wil pushed his chair out to stand but you stilled him, “No, please, stay seated it’s just one question and I’ll be leaving! You have much to do.” “Well, you may ask when ready.” “Vesper.” “…Yes?” His head tilted. “May I take him out? Beyond the walls? I just… You’ve been busy and I’d like to make sure that he doesn’t get… too restless.” “Ah. Well I’ll defer to you, if you think he’ll be fine.” There were a few seconds of silence between you, before he smiled and added, “I think he trusts you, but do be careful.” “I will, I promise!” You beamed – it was all about respect, but you would want to keep control of a stallion like that. You’d watched Wil with him enough to know how it was done. Thinking better of just turning and running back out, instead you approached his desk, leaning down to catch his lips – this kiss far more gentle. “Enjoy your day.” The smile that graced his face was a delight to watch, “Thank you. I’ll try my upmost to make that so.” Wil took your hand in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles to bid you farewell, you couldn’t help beaming as you left the room, closing the door behind you and wishing Alden well. You were certainly about to have a good day. Marcus had told you previously that Vesper only let the Sheriff anywhere near him to ride. So you knew that if this worked it was another number to add to the apparent ‘miracles’ that were happening here because of you. Then again, you’d always had an understanding with this horse; he was considerably calmer with you than the others, and it didn’t take long for you to persuade him to let you saddle him up, hands through his mane and over his neck, before stroking his muzzle – whispering gentle words in Norse. The same ones you used to use with your own horse before he was fully used to you; until Vesper allowed you to slip on his reigns. “Okay, Vesper…” You stroked him delicately again, before swinging yourself up onto his back, “let’s get you running!” Although you were careful with him through the streets of Nottingham, you could feel the both of you getting used to each other, figuring the other out. He was tall and steady, more than Eyhamel was – but you had to remind yourself he wasn’t the same kind of horse. Which gave him the edge out here – he was used to walking streets like this now. Eyha was still nervous about how close some of them were; in the mines especially – he was used to small spread out houses, sea air and countryside. You wondered how long Wil and Vesper had been a partnership, did Vesper grow up on streets like this, or did he know Wil’s country estate? The one where his family had- Vesper tugged the reigns sharply and you gasped, knowing you’d have got distracted, out of sync. Angrily thinking on something you shouldn’t have been. It had transferred through you into him, and you were forced to take a calming breath. “Sorry. That one’s on me.” Both of you were eager to get running, and you could feel that energy as you approached the gates. You’d come a different way to usual today, and this one led out to the toll bridge; the ground was a little flatter and smoothed out down a slope, with no trees here you knew you could let the power in the horse beneath you fly. Although you didn’t get to do that right away, because as you pulled up to the toll bridge the scene unfolding in front of you demanded your attention. The guards operating the bridge were currently yelling in the faces of a couple of scared looking peasants. And when the yelling didn’t work, they were dragged to the floor and promptly beaten. The anger running through you into Vesper had him starting forward, and you were glad of it, not attempting to pull him back. “STOP!!! STOP!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?”  Your shouts were at least controlled as you put Vesper between the guards and the people, forcing them to back up. Your look was hard and if they thought you were done with them- “What. Are. You. Doing?” You demanded once more, glaring. “They have to pay the toll, can’t pay, no entry.” The guard very nearly spat, as if you were the problem. Clearly he wasn’t impressed with your intervention. “Are you Nottingham guard?” If they were yours you were about to axe them on the spot, “Who do you report to?” “The council.” Oh, that meant they weren’t charged with defending the city. “We are not the guard.” “I should hope not.” You forced them to back up again, Vesper was happy to aid in the fact that you were having none of it, “I’d see you off my guard before you could think. Who authorised you to do this!?” “The Sheriff. We have our orders.” You stilled Vesper for a moment with one single blink, Wil? Wil was just letting this happen? Did he know it happened like this? You knew you didn’t want to believe it. “We’ll see about that.” If you weren’t so determined to take Vesper out you’d be marching back up to the palace and dragging him down here to witness for himself. “Let them through.” “On whose authority?” You folded your arms, “My husbands. My own. I don’t care – you should be ashamed of yourselves.” Power, give them a drop and things like this happened… You wheeled Vesper around to the two peasants, recovering themselves and their goods. “Are you alright? Do you need assistance?” Your face and voice were considerably softer. That would be a short trek, you wouldn’t have minded doing that.  But they both shook their heads, bowing their thanks to you. “No, M’lady! Thank you.” “Truly, it’s nothing. I can only apologise.” You waited to make sure that they got inside before turning back to the guard, “I catch you doing this again, you really will have to answer to someone higher than me, and I can promise you, you won’t be keeping your positions either.” You made sure to let that sink in with enough fierce in your voice, before once again turning his horse on a dime and urging Vesper out over the bridge. Well, now you’d need to spend some time out here cooling off, too.

The Sheriff, whilst all this was happening, had left his office. As much to be truly alone as to catch a glimpse of you, finding the highest point in the palace to keep an eye on as large an area of the outskirts as possible. He took his work with him, although he couldn’t say he wasn’t distracted. This could at least have been brushed off for a few days, the opportunity to watch you run his horse was not something to be missed. Wil found himself smiling uncontrollably as you did appear, and when you said run Vesper, you’d really meant it. You pushed him hard, galloping across the flat plains, fluctuating between sweeping and tight turns to add variety to the speed. But there were rivers and streams that you strayed into and Wil could swear he heard your laugh from all the way out there. And on the other side, lush long grass bled into the scenery and slopping hills, before it ended in forest. You never strayed up there, but you certainly strolled out of sight every so often. On these occasions he would just watch and wait for you to come back, instead of getting anything done. He sighed gently, before chuckling – wishing he could be beside you right now, wind rushing through his hair. A distraction maybe, but a welcome one. The Sheriff’s blue eyes flicked back down to his documents, before he firmly placed them to one side, focusing back on you. Voice soft as he mused to himself, “Well, Y/N… you’ve done it again…”

***

 Your escapades at the toll booth this morning didn’t take long to reach the Lords and, when eventually the Sheriff had to abandon his seat in favour of the Lords meeting, they were quick to jump on the subject with him. If he were honest, he was happy that you seemed to be taking control, using your voice, showing Nottingham your authority here. As you were married, he didn’t see anything wrong with you using him as your leverage. Wil supposed that the Lords didn’t like that you were female. He wasn’t about to let that kind of thinking stop you – and the Sheriff knew for a fact you weren’t either. However, apparently, you’d been busy in town this morning. “-She’s been messing with the toll bridge! That’s there for a reason, but she’s threatened the guard! They aren’t the city guard, not hers! She’s letting people through without paying the toll! This is unbelievable! She’s going to destroy everything we’re putting into place-!” Wil sat back in his chair, and stretched, looking between them all as they all began fussing and agreeing. He’d let them all talk, but not listen to a word. That was the reason you were here after all, was it not? You were here to shake things up, that was the purpose of putting you in charge. “With all due respect, gentleman, she is in her position to challenge the way things are done.” “She means to topple us.” The Sheriff held his hands up, “No, No. My wife will make things better for our city. I’m sure whatever happened at the toll was a misunderstanding. She already has our defences in better shape. She’ll do much more for us than that.” Pembroke gave him a look of significance, “The war effort?” His eyes narrowed, what was Pembroke suggesting? “She has no part in that, nor reason to know anything about it.” “The tolls-” “I will make sure that I explain to her the importance.” Wil took a breath, “I have this under control.” “Do you?” The Sheriff chuckled, “You think I can’t handle a woman like her? She’s young, she does not understand all our ways yet. She’s malleable – she’ll toe the line. I won’t even need to ask it of her.” He knew that you probably had a better grasp of things than he’d admit to them; but the war wasn’t anything he’d needed to involve you in, it was so far away. Getting you mixed up in it was unnecessary – besides that, he was sure that his side of the plan was something you could agree with. Also, right now William had to play the game the men in front of him wanted him to play – assumed he was playing. The Sheriff had to show that he could control you, that you weren’t unruly. It wouldn’t take much for one man in the room to think you were a little above your station and want you shipped back home. Or worse, there was so much worse that could be done… Wil crossed his arms over his body, just so the hidden blade pressed flat into his chest – they were underestimating the both of you. It anyone came for you, he’d protect you with his life, of that the Sheriff was already sure. You had a duty to defend him and his city, and you might think it to be that – whether you loved him or not. But he would certainly be doing this for love; the knowledge he’d never meet anyone quite like you ever again. Shaking Nottingham up was not the only thing you’d done, after all. You were undoing him piece by piece, and it had been so subtle at first Wil hadn’t even noticed – but now he wanted all these things he’d never considered before… and he wanted to share them with you. “See it done, Sheriff.” Oh he would. Just not in the way they thought.

*** By the time you got back it was late afternoon, you made sure to come back through the gate you went out of – shooting the guards a look, just so they knew you’d be going straight to the Sheriff with this. Luckily you weren’t in a nice dress today; you and Vesper by this point drying off nicely, but certainly a little worse for wear. Water stains and mud flecked your dress and his lower body. You couldn’t help but be glad you’d got to ride him, and from the signals he was giving off, Vesper was happy too. You dismounted as soon as you entered the palace grounds, laughing as you led him back towards the stable. You were happy to go and brush him down yourself, but when a stable hand came to relieve you of him – promising that all would be okay when you warned him of Vesper’s temperament – you found yourself void of things to do. Not for long, your curiosity had you running back to Wil to see if he’d be back from his duties today. Not in his office anymore, but his ready room. Doors and windows open, light flooded him and you had to pause and catch your breath at the way it broke over his form, his eyes, sifting through his hair, the occasional glint off his signet ring. You felt a knot in your stomach for a moment and couldn’t help but softly gasp as the heat ran through you. Oh. It was like that…

Eventually he put his quill down and his eyes raised to you. A small smile on his face as this time he did get up from his seat, “Darling, forgive me, come come…” The Sheriff waved you forward. “Oh, I-!” You walked to him, “I wasn’t waiting for your permission, I-” you took his hands in yours, loving the way the smile on his face grew exponentially as you did so, “I’m sorry. I was… a little dazed.” He chuckled, “By me?” letting your hands go he cupped your face, and that smile of his became a smug smirk. “Who else?” Your voice was soft, and you let him lead you to his lips. Even though his kiss was sweet and short it just made you want him more. But Wil cleared his throat: “What happened at the toll booth today?” You took a step back from him, hoping that tone wasn’t really as accusatory as it sounded to you, “Do you know what they are doing to your people-!!?” Suddenly all your outrage from this morning came flooding back, “I understand that tolls must be paid, but beating it out of people!?! If they can’t pay, turn them around, but BEAT them!?” “Y/N-” “NO! NO! Listen to me, do you have any idea how badly that reflects on you?” Wil’s eyebrows furrowed, how much you cared for him really was admirable, but you had to understand how this worked; “Y/N, those are the rules. You care too much. You do. It doesn’t matter what they think of me, but how they follow the rules.” “They’re BEATING pe-” you stopped yourself short, you knew he understood that. Hell, you knew he understood that better than anyone. “It matters. You are not a bad person. Stop… stop trying to make me believe you are.” “This is the way it goes.” “You’re better than this.” “I’m not.” You hated that sincerity in his eyes, why wasn’t he fighting this? “You are.” You shook your head, drawing him back to you, “You can stop this.” “You know it doesn’t work that way.” He stepped back and towards his desk, “Your actions are reflecting on you and if they think you’re pushing a little too far they will…” Wil left that sentence to finish itself. Any sexual excitement within you was suddenly gone at how nonchalant he was being, “I would like to see them try!” “This’s not the point, is it.” “You can’t ignore what they are doing on the pretence of protecting me, what if it was your idea?” The look in those blue eyes was almost haunting, “The Church is fine with this!?” “Backs bent, heads bowed.” The Sheriff’s voice sounded tired – something he’d heard and repeated all too often. Too much history. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” The shake of your head was not only in disappointment, but that you really hadn’t fathomed how big that barrier was to him. A wall you couldn’t see, and maybe one you’d never clear. “It’s not me you need to apologise to, but the people of your city. What they think of you matters, if only to me. And it should matter to you.” “They will think what they think, I have very little say in that. You on the other hand…” The Sheriff collected something from his desk, and held it out for you. “I care what they think of you very much. And whilst I may have my own barriers… you influence the thinking of this City. They will tolerate me to love you. And if you are swaying the people…” You took the letter from him delicately, “The Church can’t put a stop to that?” He nodded encouragingly as you turned your eyes to the parchment, and they widened at the seal, “…My- My father-!?” “I thought it only right for you to be the one to open it.” “Thank you.” The look in your eyes and that smile were so sincere. The kind he got to see on your face when all your defences were down, when you could be yourself with only him. Something Wil wished he could see much more often than he did. You broke the seal and read, small smile immediately widening, eyes scanning the English. It was a little grammatically incorrect… but the sentiment was there. It was English for your husband, that much was for certain. And your smile became a joyous laugh as you wiped a tear from your eye. “It’s a congratulatory letter on our marriage!” “Really!?” And the tone in the Sheriff’s voice made you look to him immediately; you didn’t ever think you’d heard it so light. So overjoyed. The wall was suddenly down as genuine awe crossed his face, eyes bright and wide. You gave a nod, before beckoning him to you, and as he rounded you Wil wound his arms around your waist, propping his head on your shoulder to read. You watched him curiously, at the way he tried and failed to hide that smile – eventually doing so by placing a kiss into your skin. “Well, the honour is certainly all mine.” You laughed, hands over his, “We’re getting somewhere.” “Anything is progress.” He agreed, “Long may that continue… But, with you here, perhaps there is nothing we can’t do.” “Well,” you reached behind you to run your fingers into his hair, “As long as I can change that attitude of yours. Keep your people on side… You keep running things as you do. We make quite the team.” This time the Sheriff’s kiss was to your neck, and he lingered there, making you shudder. “On that, I can agree.”

***

 Eventually you discovered that perhaps the Sheriff was not really protecting you at all. Perhaps he was protecting himself, perhaps his fairly blasé approach to the treatment of his people was not on account of the Lords and the Church. It was just more spun rhetoric; but spun to you? That hurt more than you expected. Clearly you weren’t supposed to find this out, but you had only just missed him in his ready room – with the window open and the wax still melted, a stack of draft notices ready to be signed; that right around now you had half a mind to burn - and all the signs that the room had been hastily vacated, made you believe that Wil was unexpectedly interrupted and he would return soon. You were fine with waiting but were looking a little too closely at the papers on his desk; one immediately confusing you, that looked like Arabic writing… And as you pulled it from out of the stack you gasped instantly in shock. Panic overtook you for a minute and in your wish not to believe it was what it so clearly depicted, you leafed through the documents to hide it again. But you knew you couldn’t leave it out of sight out of mind, and for all he had said to you, the Sheriff owed you an explanation. Wil took the stairs back up to his space with a grumble. Why anyone had thought that small breakages were important enough to interrupt him for he didn’t know. Other than him turning his annoyance on them “Just FIX it then!” and muttering about time wasting. He didn’t need to survey the evidence, all they needed to do was mend it: in fact the Sheriff wasn’t even sure he would have noticed if they hadn’t had directed his attention to it. When he reached his ready room, he was surprised to see you there, pouring over the papers on his desk. Wil thought this odd; you’d never been interested in draft noticed before now. You didn’t need to be either, he’d already said that he wasn’t about to touch your city guard. The Sheriff entered the room cautiously, and quiet, craning to see exactly what you were staring at. Unfortunately the angle of the rest of his stacks of documents didn’t make that so easy, and he was so tall you couldn’t fail to miss him. Wil didn’t even get to open his mouth. “This better be a peace treaty because not only is that Arabic, that’s the Church seal and there’s NO way in hell I want you involved with that!” You’d allow him an explanation, but your look to his face told the Sheriff he better not even think about lying to you now. Wil swallowed hard; his mouth opened then he thought better of it. You turned away from the desk, stance fairly aggressive – and that extended to the look in your eyes, colour vibrant with anger. Wil raised a hand to stop you before you started, you had to hear it from him, no matter how hard it might be for the Sheriff to say. “Y/N… It’s not- it’s not like that.” “Those are numbers, Wil, what are you doing!? Are you paying the enemy-!?” He pressed a finger to his lips “SHH!” and his tone was insistent, “Let me explain this!” “I don’t think you need to-! If you’re plotting with them that’s treason! What about the King!? And with the Church!?” You were clearly shocked, and Wil stepped back to close the door, eyes still on you, “After what they’ve done to you!? Being in league with them!?! The King is responsible for our union! He sent me here-!” “This has been going on a little longer than you’ve been present in my life and it’s not about that, it’s a means to an end!” “If they find out they will KILL you! You’ll be made a spectacle of! This is your country! Why send so many innocent men out there to die for a cause that you’re clearly working against! What is the play-!?” You took a step back as he took one forward, flinching. This wasn’t good, and Wil had to get you back on side quickly – but there was something about what you were saying, you still only cared for him. That’s what you were worried about, what would happen to him. “Is- Is that why you must be so silent!?” “Y/N. It’s not… please, it isn’t what you’re thinking. It is not that our King is bad, it is not… a means to seize power, that is just the outcome of an idea. But I need the support of the Church to take this all the way to being in power. Think about it, if I have unlimited power… control of England, then I have the means to stop the Church. There’ll be no more control, not of me, of the people, of everyone else they oppress just because they hold power through their ‘Divine’ cause.” He swallowed, exhaling deep and trying not to sound so fanatical, “…This only works if the King is removed. That will only happen if the enemy win. Then, once I am in place… Well, the Moors will bring their religion with them too, as you have.” You took one thing from this. “You don’t believe.” “Would you?” “…Wil…” That hurt so much, “Wil, you… you are lost!” No belief? No faith? In anything…? You stepped away from him again, which was too much for the Sheriff’s heart to take and his hand shot out to grasp your wrist, dragging you closer to him: “No! No. Not with you. I have never been lost with you.” He kept you there, but the look in your eyes was breaking his heart, “The King lets this happen. To me, to countless others… and so it continues. I can’t touch the Foundling House, I can’t stop this without winning this war, this way. What kind of King lets these things happen, Y/N!? Would your father!?” “There’s another way. Wil there is a better way. Working with the Church is not the answer.” “They will never see it coming if I involve them. They think the power is shared, really for the first time it is me using them. But, make no mistake, Y/N, I need them.” “No…” You wriggled free of his grip, but cupped his face instead, “You don’t.” “You told me I was a better person than this. Now you understand I’m not.” He indicated to the paper, “But I need you with me on this. And it is the only thing I will ask. Bad, yes, I admit as much… But to do a world of good? You must see that?” You looked away from him and back to the parchment, glaring hard. The Sheriff’s hands settled on your waist, but you didn’t back away from him this time. Your look was steely, and he was going to hear this once and once only and heed you on it. “I do not approve of this. But I am with you on it - IF at the end of all this I may slay some of these Lords and these people who hurt you. And I don’t want to hear another word from you on supporting our soldiers out there. You are going to tell me the truth, William, or I’ll take this to the King myself. Do you understand me? Not one secret.” There were a few more seconds of silence than you would like but eventually he nodded, “Yes, yes.  I understand.” And the Sheriff knew there was no way to threaten you or have you back down on this. You’d be much more likely to slit his throat than listen to his demands. You took a step back, “Find yourself. Because I don’t think you’ll do it in me.” Head down you brushed passed him and exited the room, deeply troubled. Wil turned to watch you go with a soft sigh; you had it all wrong. You were all of his faith that he had left. Nothing good had ever come of believing in a higher power or doing as the Church requested… but you, something had brought you across the water, and to him… The Sheriff wasn’t inclined to think that was just good luck. You stopped on the stairs and had to sit for a moment, hand against the wall; breathing hard to make sure you didn’t cry instead. You hated that you somehow sympathised with this cause. That you understood him. It was treason, it was crazy, Wil would bet his life on something so insane that may not even work out for him. You knew he was power hungry too… you didn’t like it but it was there, and you doubted he would deny it. The Sheriff wasn’t going to find taking that crown a burden, he would relish it. But after all the pain they had caused him in the past, if his end goal truly was to rid this country of its oppression under the Church, then you couldn’t help but agree it might be something desperately needed. It wasn’t just him after all – and it was quite clearly also affecting his present. Haunting Wil in everyone he had the misfortune of interacting with. After all, the Sheriff might be free of that house, but he was not free of them.

 *** The Sheriff certainly became more careful of the way that he spoke around you in meetings. But when you knew all the pieces at play, it was fascinating to watch them talk. You wondered if everyone in this room was in on it. Just a few of them? You started accompanying him to Church a little more just to keep your eyes on them. At night though, Wil would sit you down, or take you in his arms and he’d spill all those secrets that no one else would. Things that, by the way he told them, only you knew. When you asked if this was only because you asked, or if he really trusted you with such information he only smiled. ‘You should know.’ So, for the imminent attack of what every Town Hall meeting called ‘the far enemy’ you had begun challenging Marcus, Alden and Askel to defend the walls. Each of them picked a specialist crew from your guard and tried to defend the wall from you. Armed with a training sword and bow. The idea was to stop you from making your way inside the walls, but every so often another member of the guard was selected as a target and you had to get to them. Honestly it was the most fun you’d had in a while, even if it produced mixed results and some of the teams were far better at stopping you, or slowing you down, than others. Sometimes you wouldn’t even have scaled the walls or made it to the first gate. Sometimes you’d end up cornered on top of the wall, but you’d put up a pretty good fight before they finally caught you. Sometimes you could get through, but they’d slowed you down enough to gather a force up at the palace or to move your ‘target’ far from the scene. Sometimes they’d still be peering over the wall and you’d have to whistle them from an opposite roof, waving. Sometimes you’d end up dragging the target back to them and saying, “Well, my husband would be dead by now. Congratulations!” When they dared you to do the same thing, you were nearly always successful. Askel always scoffed and said that was just because you were so adamant at defending your man – not necessarily your city. Your argument was you were head of the Nottingham guard, so if you couldn’t stop people they might as well dismiss you now. (But you might also concede his point.) But it was a laugh, and you all enjoyed it so much that it became a regular drill, and you’d practice all times of day and in all weathers. The greatest thing was just to hear Wil turn it into propaganda; how the guard were preparing for all eventualities, that they were going to defend Nottingham just as the soldiers were defending ‘us’ in the Crusade. You’d only allow it because he always looked so happy to talk about good things happening and the Church always looked kinda sour about it. You did your best to act as a Lady of Nottingham would and not smugly smirk over at them… you didn’t always succeed. But pretty soon you and Askel were teaching the best and brightest to free run the roof tops and scale the palace in good time. Marcus was built a little heavier and it wasn’t his forte, but you admired him trying, before he eventually concluded he’d rather keep his feet on the ground. Alden however was quicker than you, and as you started to figure out how useful he’d be, you were actually glad of the Sheriff’s offer of his personal guard to the cause when necessary. More important to you, of course, was that you had to worry less about who Wil had to defend him, when you could see clear evidence of how good Alden was, and how much he’d grown, right in front of you. Lucien liked watching you with a shake of his head as if you were all young, naive idiots and, usually when you’d made it to the roof, called up to you that he didn’t realise Nottingham needed an ariel team. He wasn’t about to hide how proud he was of his guard growing, and almost literally flying, with you. One thing was for sure, if the far enemy did ever get over here, no matter what the Sheriff’s arrangement was, you and your boys would defend this city. You wouldn’t let innocent lives you were charged with protecting die just so he could take power. That, you vowed.

***

To show solidarity with your trainees - and those now returning to the city from war unable to be much use there anymore, but still wishing to help out, that you’d taken into your guard – every so often you would stand the wall yourself. You certainly didn’t mind it; everyone was in fairly good spirits and would call to each other up and down the wall. Sometimes they sung songs that you didn’t really understand and if Wil passed below you, he’d yell up about using such language around a Lady with a shake of his head. Only with them throwing back that you were ‘hardly a Lady’. You didn’t mind it much, you were just happy that everyone else enjoyed themselves and you got to look out across the landscape and dream about riding out as far as your eyes could see. Sometimes you could see smoke whisps coming from far off villages and on the occasions that you were facing Shirebrook you could only smile as you thought of Charles and Cara. They seemed due a visit, you would make a mental note of that. One thing you did always make sure to check on was the mines and the tolls. Regular contact with your people kept you popular and Marian, along with her Will, were always welcoming. Especially if you took Tuck with you. The four of you would discuss policy that you had no qualms taking back to your husband for your night talks; even if he blustered and told you he’d hear no more on it. As long as there was one voice in his ear attempting to help the people, you were happy being it. Especially away from the smoke and mirrors world of the Lords – who you trusted less and less the more they opened their mouths. Today you were back on the wall, and in a moment of true boredom, doing nothing more than passing the time of day with Marcus. There were still a few complaints you had that you’d only tell him, and as usual he’d simply chuckle about it and offer solidarity. Sometimes advice, but even just lending his ear helped you sort through things in your brain. Luckily it was a clear day, and the suns rays were warming but not beating down on you. Good on all accounts. However, you were distracted from the conversation by someone calling you: “My Lady-!” At first you couldn’t find the source, not the wall, or below you, “My Lady!” Turning you realised that they were in the street behind you, a small group on horseback. You approached the edge of the wall cautiously, Marcus walked in step, hand on the hilt of his sword, almost making you laugh to see how quick he would be to defend you from nothing. “Yes?” “My Lady, do you… perhaps know where we can find the Sheriff?” You tilted your head, why would they ask you? You’d been out here all day. “Your husband is expecting some very important members of his jurisdiction. They have arrived and urgently wish to speak to him but, we have looked everywhere. We were hoping you may be able to assist?” Instead of offering them any places you’d be convinced they wouldn’t have checked – that he wouldn’t want anyone else knowing of anyway – you simply chuckled, “Yes. I will find him for you, whereabouts would you like him sent?” “The main hall, if you please My Lady. Thank you.” You turned back to Marcus, “Well, right hand, I leave my watch in your capable hands.” “Go on. Aid him to his meeting. In fact stay, he’ll need you, I can imagine it’ll only be tedium!” You headed towards the set of steps with another barked laugh, “Thank you, Marcus! You’re sending me to that tedium too!” It didn’t take you long to figure out where Wil would be. If they’d been thorough in their search, there was only one room they wouldn’t dare enter. Each and every room you could knock on and, alright you’d be facing his wrath if you entered without permission, but you’d have still found him. If they couldn’t find him, then he was out – unlikely, considering Wil often told you if he was to be away from the palace for too long – or he was here. You knocked gently on your room door and upon receiving no answer opened it softly. Your assumption was correct and you closed the door quick, but silently, behind you. Wil was lying on his front on the bed, arms folded under his chin, completely unbothered by the day. You stilled for a second, wondering why he might have left his shirt off. You weren’t about to ignore how much those scars still made your heart ache. He was clearly here to hide away from the world, you weren’t about to stop him. “Darling, what’s wrong?” Your voice was soft, as you walked forward, studying him for any signs that it was anything of significance. Illness? He’d been alright when you’d left him this morning. Wil sighed, shuffling, “To be honest I’m fed up with everyone. I just needed some quiet time alone. Not to be shirking my duties, but…” You paused, not wishing to be intrusive if he didn’t want, “From me too?” “No… No…” He chuckled, “You can stay.” You clambered onto the bed, still surveying his body; “You’re tense…” “I’m what?” “Tense… It’s all in your body language… your shoulders are tense, are you okay?” Wil opened his mouth, but clamped it shut, lucky that you wouldn’t see. No, he dare not tell you about what was going on in his head. “Yes, I’m… fine.” “Just close your eyes and try to relax…” He was suddenly aware of a pressure on his lower back, and your legs brushed against his as you settled yourself on top of him, trying to make sure not to pressure him with too much of your weight. Suddenly your hands were on Wil’s shoulders, pushing gently against all the tensions that had built themselves up in his muscles. “What are you doing?” “It’s just a massage… don’t worry, I’m pretty good at it, you can thank your rigorous guard training for this – my mother passed it on to all her children and now all you guard are perfecting it too. Good for war and training injuries but, also tension… and you, husband dearest, are extremely tense. I will not ask what is troubling you, but I would like to relieve you of it.” He groaned gently as you worked at the knots, which made you smile, at least he was enjoying it, “That feels good…” “Yeah?” “Yeah… Where have you been all my life?” He moved his arms from under himself at your insistence. “Well, now you know. Just come to me!” The Sheriff groaned again as you worked down his arms, into his fingers, and then back up, “Can you do it a little harder?” “Oh I forgot, it’s not fun if it’s not painful.” You smacked him playfully, “Sure, whatever you say.” But that only made him elicit more contented groans, louder than before. “Shhhh!” Although you couldn’t help but giggle, “You’re meant to be hiding from the world, aren’t you?” “Harder!” “Wil – I don’t want to hurt you-! Y’know there’s a fine line between relaxing your muscles and tearing them!” You ran your knuckles up his spine; and the growl he elicited made you smirk; you did the motion again, if only to keep the Sheriff growling like that…  “Agh-----!!!” “I told you it’d hurt.” “That didn’t hurt, that was good, do it again.” Unbelievable. “You’re very good at this.” “Happy to help!” You made your circles a little lighter, assured that even when working tension out of him you wanted to be gentle. There was probably a lot of scar tissue under his skin, and you didn’t want to upset it, or cause twinges in him. He chuckled slightly, running his hands gently along your legs under your dress, you couldn’t help but sigh against his fingertips. Although you couldn’t see the Sheriff’s face, you were sure that pulled a smirk from him.   “I don’t know want to be too rough…” “Nothing wrong with being rough.” You wondered if you were supposed to take that with the sexual edge of his voice. Probably. You swallowed hard, happy that if you were blushing he also wouldn’t see your face. You pushed your fingers to his neck, and then through the ends of his hair, the Sheriff sighed again as you pulled your fingernails back down, and then over his shoulders and ran his spine; Wil shivered a little, which made you giggle. “Isn’t gentle so much better?” “I get the feeling this isn’t a massage…” You refused to rise to that, even if that heat that hadn’t flooded you for a little while – since you’d seen him in that glorious sunshine before speaking about the toll booth in fact – returned at just the sound of Wil’s voice right now. You continued circular motions up his back, pushing harder in areas and softer in others; what the Sheriff didn’t realise of course was you’d spent the first few run-throughs seeing what he liked best and where, so now you could give him a proper massage. All you wanted was his emotional responses the way he’d given them to you before. “Ahhhhhhh---!!” You smirked slightly; “Better?” He growled; hands back on your legs, “Harder---!!” Ignoring Wil’s command for his whole body, just pushed harder through the parts that wanted it, you refused to strain anything on him. You supposed this was fairly intimate, considering you’d not actually officially consummated your marriage yet… if you could call it a real marriage. He still messed with your feelings too much, you didn’t want to give yourself to him once more until you could trust him to keep your happiness paramount, to keep you completely in the loop. Your body let you know exactly how it felt about that idea, and threatened to shake, you pushed back through his hair, and stopped. The Sheriff’s smile was present in his voice, “Finished?” “If you want me to stop?” And you thought that was probably for the best. “Well. Lady’s choice.” You laughed, and sat back, so you were between his legs and not sitting on him anymore. Wil turned so that he was leaning on his elbow, and could look at you, “What is your verdict, should I be partaking more often?” “It’s possibly not the only way you can relieve tension.” The smirk twitched on his lips and Wil took your hand in his, guiding you a little close to him, “Well, I’m certainly fine with staying here and learning more.” This time you knew you were blushing horribly, and your body was fine with completely betraying you. “Well, I believe I should be telling you that you have visitors, but I will greet them for you as your wife… I wish for you to stay here. And rest, you do enough.” You smiled gently, “I’m glad you thought it was okay.” “Okay?” Wil shook his head, and leaned in, for your efforts you received a series of short and incredibly sweet kisses, “It was a lot better than just okay.” he murmured against your lips before kissing you one last time.

***

Quiet mornings were nice between you, today you didn’t need to be anywhere in particular until much later in the day and even then, the Sheriff had extended his invitation as a courtesy. Certainly, therefore, a meeting to present only as his wife and not an important advisor. You’d probably decide if you were turning up or not at the very last minute. Wil was getting ready for the day, but, sitting there at the end of the bed talking to him in your white nightgown was distracting at best. You had one foot dangling off the edge of the bed and your other tucked up under you as you rested your arms and head on your knee. Due to this, your nightgown had ridden up, and both legs were fully exposed to him. This wasn’t unusual, he couldn’t lie about that – but… this morning looking at you was getting him a little worked up. The Sheriff supposed that was mostly because he had a lot on his mind right now, especially about you. His movements were sluggish as he got dressed, and Wil felt uncomfortable at best, breathing heavily. He bit his lips together, hoping you weren’t noticing this… and yet perhaps hoping that you were… Good God he wanted you, but, did you want him? Did you really? There were too many mixed signals, an he needed to be sure.

The Sheriff cleared his throat, approaching you, “Y/N... I realise that... we have not been intimate in a long time. And I don’t know if that is because you don’t trust me, you don’t want me- Well, with what you know it almost doesn’t surprise me. Although I... have been in conversation with Tuck.” You immediately looked up; eyes wide, attentive to what he was about to say. Clearly you couldn’t trust anybody anymore. “And he... imparted to me that you have been in conversation about... the possibility of children?” Of course Tuck would betray such a conversation. After all the confessional visits; this was a big one. “I...” You blinked a few times, unsure of exactly where this conversation was going to lead. It wasn’t one you’d ever had; you didn’t have the faintest idea of Wil’s stance on it. “I have talked to my handmaidens about it, yes.” The Sheriff stepped forward, taking your hand in his as he sank to his knee, “Oh, so… you would… want to-” He paused for a minute to think on his phrasing, “Do you want this with me?” “I never exactly envisioned this conversation happening this way.” “Well, what better time?” “Why did he even mention it?” Wil shrugged delicately, “He thought I might like to know.” Your eyes dropped from his face and you chewed your lip, “Forgive my thinking, but I wasn’t so sure – with your own past – you would want to have children.” “It wasn’t something I suspected to get the opportunity to-” He waved a hand, and then smiled gently, “Forgive me, but the prospect is exciting, isn’t it?” You swallowed thickly, “It is.” You wouldn’t deny that, “But I cannot bring a child into a world where we are not on the same side about where we’re going.” “Aren’t we?” “…Wil. There are problems here, and I will not have a child with you to fix them.” Your hand was still in his and you squeezed it, as his eyes dulled and you knew you were hurting him, “…But,” and it was a big but, “I am ready to try. While we figure everything else out.” Then you took his other hand in yours, “And we will, figure it all out, together.” The smile on the Sheriff’s face, the brightness in his eyes, the way he laced your fingers had your body screaming at you. Louder than ever before, than even that first night. “We will.” He agreed, “But do not doubt that I want this, with you.” That emphasis was clear, you knew all about the other women; but you were his only focus now. Your body trembled and you hoped that it was not betraying you to him; was that excitement? Or desire? Or both? ‘It’s now or never!’ was all you could think. ‘If you want him as bad as you know you do, what better time than when he is asking you for this.’ “Do you, have anything important to do today?” The Sheriff’s head tipped, eyebrow raised, wondering if you were going where he hoped you were: “Not, particularly.” “I do not wish for you to just shirk your duty for this…” Although there was a tiny smirk on your face. “Is my duty not to you?” and to our future. “Stay. With me.” “Now?” This wasn’t just the conversation about what could be, this was the conversation. His eyes brightened, “Of course, I will stay. If my wife insists.” “Oh…” You pulled him off his knees and to your lips, as Wil already shrugging himself out of his coat, “I do.” Wil’s hands glided up your legs, as his kisses became a little harder, a little hotter. Your nightdress moved up your body and it was all you could do to help him, pulling at the ties at the top to wriggle out of it. You looped your arms around his neck, already moaning against his kisses, knowing that your arousal was already plain to see on your inner thighs. The Sheriff stripped himself of his jacket and undershirt, and then his trousers and undergarments. His hands on the inside of your thighs as you kept kissing him, parting your legs delicately as he laid you back. That sticky sweetness already lingering on his fingertips, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “How long?” “Too long…” Was your only breathless answer as Wil pulled his lips from yours to lick his fingers, “Oh, Y/N. You should have said something.” You shook your head, but he denied you the opportunity to recapture his lips as he ran his fingers through your wetness – causing you to shudder. “…You just said it for me.” That smirk of his was bigger than usual as he tasted you again, and this time when he kissed you harshly, the Sheriff pressed his tongue to yours, giving you the opportunity to taste yourself. You moaned quietly again, pulling his body to completely cover yours and he held you strong in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his. “I love you.” You pulled back for just a moment, just to study his face as he said it. “Do you?” “You know I do.” You were once again struck by the vulnerability, the way Wil said it with such conviction. No games, no lies. There was no room for any of that here, not between the two of you. Not here. “I love you too…” He shuddered at the Norse. Your hands were up in his hair, gentle kiss to his forehead, then his lips, “I want this… and I need you… Wil, I need you.” He held your hands once more as he pushed into you, gentler than before – but so different. Your body tingled, coils in your stomach radiating the same heat as before. Everything was suddenly so pleasant. It had been before, but now… perhaps that was just you thinking on context. Before it was about you, it was about becoming his… This wasn’t; this was about both of you, about your future. The possibility of having a family… You pulled him closer, and mixed with your moaning were distinct words; Norse – what else? The Sheriff smiled into your skin, pressing lingering kisses against your shoulder. “I want to hear them, Y/N, even if I don’t understand them…” But you both knew he already did. The sentiment, the million different ways you were capable of telling him how much you loved him. The million different ways you always would…

---

💜Thank you for reading! I don’t think I’ll get 9 done by the end of the year but I’m happy that we’re at this point and we can start heading towards the movie plot now!💙

[cakesunflower]

Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 20

A/N: so honestly. this story was SUPPOSED to come to an end. like, this was supposed to be the last/second to last chapter and then boom, done! but after writing this chapter and pleading from @irwinkitten​ & @loveroflrh​, and swimming in my own thoughts & falling in love with Aspen, Calum & Luna all over again, i realized this will not be the last chapter. and, if anything, i probably have a few more chaps left in me than previously assumed. so yeah. this story is gonna go on for a little while longer. after reading this chap, you’ll understand why hehe

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

Chapter 20

ASPEN BOWED HER head, her labored breathing echoing a bit too loudly in the restroom, shaking arms apparently too weak allow her to steadily brace herself against the sink. Her throat was still burning, the taste rancid in her mouth, eyes screwed shut as the shock from throwing up her lunch, and maybe breakfast, subsided. Her stomach lurched and she knew she was in that uncomfortable stage of wanting to throw up more but not actually needing to, and Aspen let out a shaky breath as she rinsed out her mouth, hoping the gum she kept would rid of the smell.

Looking at herself in the mirror, taking in her own dull green eyes and dry lips, Aspen tried to think of why she was suddenly throwing up in one of the bathrooms at the clinic. It had been right in the middle of her eating her lunch, but she knew the leftover spaghetti from last night wasn’t what had her stomach lurching. She wasn’t sick—not that she knew of, anyway. She’d been feeling fine.

Her eyebrows drew together as she peered at her reflection, the porcelain of the sink bitterly cold under her touch. She wasn’t sick. She didn’t have her period. She never got this nauseous during it, either. The only time she could remember throwing up this much was when she was pr—

Aspen’s breath got caught in her throat, eyes widening almost comically as she gaped at her reflection. Holy shit. She wasn’t stupid. She worked at a medical clinic. And she had already gone through this once before to be familiar with the creeping feeling of the world being turned upside down. How the hell had she not realized earlier?

Still, Aspen pulled out her phone, trembling fingers clicking on the tracker app she needed, heart dropping to the pit of her turning stomach when the words 23 days late were shown back to her. She was never late—never this late, at least. Aspen damn near dropped her phone into the sink, a gasp choking her throat as she pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh, my God.” Her whispered voice sounded as though she was screaming in the quiet of the bathroom, snapping Aspen out of the overwhelmed, incredulous daze she had found herself in. 

She had to think fast.

Pocketing her phone in her scrubs, she quickly exited the bathroom and made her way across the hall towards the supply closet. It was dark inside, but she was familiar with the room to head to the second shelf on the right, third row from the bottom to dig into the box and pull out the pregnancy tests they kept in there. Chewing on her lower lip, Aspen quickly went back to the vacant bathroom, locking the door behind her, ripping open the small package with shaking fingers, pulling down her pants.

And then, after the fact, she waited a few minutes.

She desperately tried not to think of anything. Wanted to keep her mind blank because she was sure she would throw up again if she focused on the situation at hand for too long. Truthfully, Aspen didn’t know what to think—what to feel. If her suspicions were either confirmed or disproven, maybe then she’d know how to appropriately react. For now, there was a ringing in her ears, a flatline of thoughts she denied any attention. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn together. Nothing to think of until there was something to think of.

Her alarm went off. Time was up.

She swallowed the thick, heavy lump that had formed in her throat, inhaling shakily as she took the few steps towards the sink. Her heart was thundering in her chest, echoing in her ears. Was it fear? Dread? Excitement? Aspen wasn’t sure.

But when she looked at the stick resting on the sink, she knew her answer. 

*****

Calum hadn’t really thought that a kindergarten graduation was a thing—he didn’t remember having one in his school back when he was five years old. But as silly and goofy as a kindergarten graduation sounded, Calum didn’t care. Because he was utterly content sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, the springtime sun mellow above them, watching his adorable little girl in a red cap and gown as she and her class sang a parody version of Can’t Stop This Feeling to fit in with a kindergarten graduating class. 

The crowd of parents and families sat laughing, clapping along, taking pictures, with Calum unable to tear his eyes away from where Luna stood singing along with a grin on her face. He hadn’t really understood the concept of kindergarten graduation until he realized Luna would be going into elementary school, which of course led him to think of when she’d eventually get to middle school, then high school, then college. . .

Calum inhaled sharply, shaking those thoughts out of his head. He needed to relax. Luna hadn’t even started first grade yet. There was lots of time.

For a moment, Calum had assumed he was the only overly emotional one, getting teary eyed amidst a bunch of five and six year olds making a Justin Timberlake song their own. But he glanced to his right, took in the sight of Aspen who, while she clapped along with a smile, had glassy green eyes that she couldn’t hide from him.

“Hey,” Calum whispered through a fond, amused chuckle, wrapping his right arm around her to pull her close. Aspen sniffled as Calum rubbed her arm, ducking his head slightly to try and meet her gaze. “You alright, doll?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aspen assured, swiping a finger under her eye before letting out a gentle laugh. “Just, y’know, proud of Luna.”

Calum laughed quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of Aspen’s head, inhaling her familiar shampoo and perfume. Looking back onto the stage, he mused, “Don’t wanna imagine what you’ll be like at her high school graduation.”

Aspen scoffed, letting out a slow breath before sniffling once more and raising her head. Shooting Calum a look, she said, “A mess. I’ll need five glasses of wine beforehand.”

He kept his arm around him, still chuckling as he rubbed at her arm and hummed, “Noted.”

Calum wasn’t oblivious to Aspen’s occasional sniffles, a tissue in her fist as she used it to dab away tears, and he couldn’t help but glance at her curiously. Truthfully, he hadn’t really expected Aspen to get so emotional over this; of course, Calum understood the pride and happiness he felt over his five year old finally moving on from kindergarten to enter elementary school, but he wasn’t anywhere near shedding tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Aspen?” he couldn’t help but ask once again.

“Yeah, yeah,” she brushed him off, offering a smile he wasn’t sure he believed. “Just, y’know, probably about to get my period,” she added with a gentle chuckle before looking ahead once more. He shot her a disbelieving look, and Aspen responded by merely keeping her gaze ahead and reaching her hand up to grasp Calum’s chin to turn his head forward as well.

The ceremony ended with cheers and smiles and lots of pictures taken, Calum’s heart threatening to burst out of his chest as Luna ran up to him and Aspen with a colorful kindergarten diploma in her hand, showing it off proudly. Because she knew it was a big deal and they rightfully treated it as such. They took tons of photographs, FaceTimed Aspen’s mother right away so Luna could show her the certificate and Jodie, who had joined them, took many photos of Calum and Aspen with their little girl, and of Luna with her friends.

Calum hadn’t failed to notice the distance Aspen kept with Bailey Clarkson, not so much as glancing at the other mom’s way as all of her focus remained on Luna. Which he was glad for; the last thing anyone needed was Aspen throwing a well deserved punch to Mrs. Clarkson’s jaw. Though, Calum knew he’d only hold back his girlfriend after the fact—and reluctantly so, at that.

“So no school for two months, bug!” Calum grinned at his daughter, glancing at her from the rearview mirror after they dropped Jodie off once the ceremony was finished. “What’s your plan for the summer?”

Luna grinned, hands in her lap and endearingly bringing her shoulders up as she drawled, “I don’t know.” Then she sat up, green eyes bright as she gasped in that childish, dramatic way and said, “Natalia’s parents are taking her to Disney World! Can we go there?” 

Calum chuckled as he made a right turn, not entirely surprised by Luna’s request. Going to Disney World was practically every little kid’s wish, wasn’t it? “I think we can look into that,” Calum hummed, grinning at Luna’s excited cheer, glancing at Aspen as he asked, “What do you think, Mama?”

He had to return his gaze to the road ahead, but Calum still glanced at Aspen quickly, a couple of times in a span of a few seconds, eyebrows raising at her silence. She was chewing on her nail, staring out the window as they drove by buildings, lost in thoughts Calum wanted to be in on. Especially if they were worrying her—he could see it in the subtle furrow of her eyebrows, bringing forth a tense crease on her forehead. Something was occupying her thoughts, enough to throw her into a distracted silence, and it only increased Calum’s curiosity.

“Aspen?” he tried, left hand on the wheel and right reaching over to comfortingly rest on her thigh. “Come back, love.”

“Hmm?” She finally looked at him, eyebrows high up on her forehead before letting out a breath and giving a shake of her head. “Sorry, sorry.” Turning in her seat and grinning at Luna, Aspen mused, “Disney World, huh?”

Luna nodded as Calum stopped the car at a red light, turning to look at Aspen. She was fully engaging into a conversation with Luna, chatting about all the princesses and Disney characters Luna wanted to meet, completely disregarding her spaced out moment earlier. Maybe Calum was reading too into it, and she looked fine now, happily indulging Luna, so he bit the inside of his cheek and let it go. If something was wrong, Calum knew Aspen would tell him. That’s how they worked. That’s why they worked. If there was a pressing matter, Calum trusted Aspen to let him know.

They got back to the building and as they got off the elevator and Luna skipped ahead, Calum draped his arm around Aspen’s shoulders and, despite his decision in the car to let it go, couldn’t help but ask, “You good?”

Her own arm loosely wrapped around his waist as they walked, humming reassuringly as she looked up at him to meet his gaze. Her green eyes were light, absent of any heaviness that Calum had expected to see, the smile on her face genuine. “Yeah, great,” Aspen responded with a breezy laugh, hand rubbing at his back.

Calum watched her for a moment, trying to detect a lie she somehow would’ve become an expert at hiding, feeling guilty when he didn’t find any and for doubting her. So Calum pressed a kiss to her temple as they reached Luna, bouncing in front of the door as she waited for them and Calum used the key to the apartment that was permanently his to unlock to door. They entered and were greeted by Duke, his paws familiarly clattering, as Aspen sat down on the arm rest of the couch to bend down at unclasp her sandals.

She stood once doing so, taking a breath and saying to their daughter, “Hey, Lunes, let’s get that dress off before dinner.”

Luna nodded and followed Aspen into her bedroom as Calum placed his own shoes next to Aspen’s by the door, socks sliding on the floorboards as he approached the couch and collapsed on top. Kicking his feet up on the coffee table, Calum checked the messages on his phone, reading over the texts he’d received from friends and family congratulating Luna. He responded to them all, chuckled at the texts from the boys in the group chat losing it over the short clips Calum had sent of the kids singing on stage, zoomed in on Luna.

He spent a couple of minutes responding to texts, until the sound of Luna’s running footsteps reached his ears, as did her voice as she called excitedly, “Daddy! Look at the new shirt Mama got me! Look!”

“Show me, bug,” Calum laughed, sitting up as he lifted his gaze when he sensed Luna in front of him, almost immediately choking on his laugh when his expectant gaze took in the words written on Luna’s shirt.

Promoted to Big Sister!

There was moment that Calum was completely sure that his heart had stopped, reading over the four mundane words strung together to create a phrase that meant fucking everything a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t somehow imagining them. Was it possible to feel every bone in your body to tremble from shock, excitement? Calum’s eyes were quickly drying out, too wide as he read Luna’s shirt over and over again, deeply feeling the quiver of his lower lip as he took in a sharp, audibly shaky breath to get a hold of himself. He couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

Big sister.

Heart pounding, Calum looked from Luna’s grinning face as she held the bottom of the shirt in her hands, straightening the words out proudly, to where Aspen stood a few feet behind the five year old. Calum’s throat had gone dry, blinking quickly to rid of the cold dryness in his eyes, aware that his breathing was labored as he took in his girlfriend’s expression.

Aspen chewed on her lower lip, though unable to keep a smile, albeit nervous, away as she wrung her fingers together and awaited his reaction. Because right now, all Calum was doing was gaping at her, bewildered and incredulous and absolutely fucking floored, all too aware of every cell in his body vibrating in unadulterated excitement. His mind was running a mile a minute, unable to grasp a single thought and focus on it, before he took another glance at Luna’s shirt and felt the gasp rip through his throat.

Finally, Calum stumbled to his feet on weak knees, wide brown eyes on expectant and nervous green, and all Calum was capable of whispering was a dumbfounded, “What?”

He stammered a bit, hilariously feeling completely out of his element as one hand cupped Luna’s cheek as he stood over her, aware of her brilliant grin beaming up at him as his throat worked, looking at Aspen for a verbal confirmation. Maybe then the feeling in his muscles would return.

Calum was acutely aware of the wild drumming of his heart, the buzz within his veins erratic as Aspen parted her lips. And just as she breathed out, “I’m pregnant,” Luna had taken the opportunity to yell, “I’m gonna be a big sister!”

Yeah. Yeah, that was all it took. Because once both of his favorite girls delivered some of the best news Calum could possibly hear, he was scooping Luna up with one arm and striding over to Aspen, pulling them in for a hug that couldn’t possibly convey the full capacity of happiness Calum felt in that moment.

He was sure Aspen could hear the pounding of his heart, but Calum didn’t care as he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face to Aspen’s hair. The floral scent of her shampoo was brilliant as Calum breathed out a dazed, “Oh, my God,” before finally the dryness of his eyes let up and the thrilled tears that had almost immediately gathered upon confirmation freely fell from his eyes. “Oh, my God.”

It was a cliche, expectant response but for now, that was all Calum could utter as he clung to both Aspen and Luna, the five year old giggling excitedly as Aspen laughed against Calum’s chest. He could hear her own tears as her arms wrapped around him, her hug just as tight, and Calum had to remember to breathe as the excitement and disbelief threatened to deprive his lungs of air. Calum could count his purest, happiest moments in one hand—most of which, when he truly thought about it, consisted of his two girls—and this just made the top of the list. Until the anticipated moment arrived. Until the baby arrived.

“Oh—oh, man,” Calum pulled back slightly with a teary eyed, breathless chuckle as he cupped Aspen’s own wet cheek with one hand, adoring the way Luna’s smaller hand pushed back some of Aspen’s dark hair away from her face. “We’re—we’re gonna have a baby.”

Aspen’s green eyes were filled with elated tears, an image Calum probably mirrored, her cheeks flushed and smile looking its happiest. She looked beautiful. “Yeah,” she replied with a sniffle, her own voice a whisper as her gaze flickered between him and Luna. “Gonna be a family of five.”

Duke included, of course. Calum laughed; a bright, hearty, genuine laugh that carried his excitement, happiness, and disbelief together. He was still in shock, he knew, but he mostly focused on the giddiness that fluttered in his stomach and had his heart racing. Fuck. Holy fucking shit. No wonder he thought she was acting differently today. She’d been waiting to tell him about this. And what a fucking thing to tell.

Calum let out a slow breath, laughter softening as he wiped at his face, licking his lips as he grinned at his favorite girls. They would eventually be joined by another. “We’re gonna need a bigger place.”

*****

“Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm?” Calum hummed, all too focused on drawing nonsensical patterns on Aspen’s still flat stomach. They were laying in bed, hours later after a celebratory dinner—times two—and putting Luna to bed. Aspen had giggled and teased Calum as he lifted her shirt once she’d laid down, wanting nothing more than to use her breasts as pillows as he did so often while tracing his finger on the bare skin of her stomach. Her own fingers were weaving through his hair, playing with the dark strands in the way that relaxed him.

Aspen chuckled lightly at his obliviousness. “If it’s a boy or a girl,” she clarified.

The smile that tugged at Calum’s lips was instant at the mere mention of the baby, probably the size of his pinky nail—maybe smaller. But he didn’t care. That was his kid in there. “So long as it’s healthy, no,” Calum answered, ears picking up on the quiet and disbelieving scoff that Aspen released. Grin widening, he turned his head to look up at her just enough to say, “But a boy—you and Luna have too much fun outmatching me.”

Aspen tilted her head back against the pillow propped behind her as she laughed, knowing his words to be all too true. Calum turned his attention back to her stomach, grin widening as he thought of the appointment Aspen told him she had scheduled for tomorrow. The excitement in his chest, Calum knew, wouldn’t be dying down anytime soon, and the thought of being with Aspen in that room, watching as the doctor showed them the first image of their baby developing—it took his breath away. He would be both embarrassed and not at all surprised if he actually passed out as soon as he saw the black and white image of the screen.

And as he continued to absentmindedly trace patterns, Calum couldn’t help but think that although this was his second child, this would be his first time being an expectant dad-to-be. This time around, he would be there from the very start of the kid’s life and although Calum would always be upset that he missed these moments with Luna, he would be sure to cherish every bit of the next nine months, and every single year after that as much as he was capable of. This was his second chance, and Calum was ready to embrace it with open arms. Thinking about all of which was to come had him chewing on his lower lip, eyes closing as he took in a deep breath that immediately caught Aspen’s attention.

“You okay?” she asked in concern.

“Yeah,” Calum cleared his throat. He was alright. He was just. . . Emotional. So he sat up, causing Aspen to drop her hand from his hair as he sat cross legged by her outstretched legs, licking his lips as his brown eyes gaze met her pretty green. Aspen sat up as well, a slight furrow in her eyebrows, ready to listen as Calum shot her a warm smile to reassure her. “It’s just—this is your second time doing this and I’m—I’ve never been here before, y’know? And it’s dumb that I know how to be a dad but I don’t. . .” He paused, feeling foolish with his words, but Aspen watched him with those encouraging eyes and Calum didn’t feel like an idiot as he finished with a breathless and short chuckle, “I don’t know how to be a dad-t0-be.”

“Cal, no, it doesn’t,” Aspen was quick to assure, smiling that pretty smile of hers that somehow always made him feel like everything was okay. She also crossed her legs, hand reaching out to grasp his. “It’s a learning experience which you obviously didn’t get the first time around. Being nervous is normal.”

Calum let out a breath, reveling in the feeling of her hand holding his, eyebrows scrunching up as he told her, “I don’t want you to feel guilty or anyth—”

“Oh, come on, stop with that,” Aspen cut him off with a wave of her free hand. “We promised to stop being sorry and guilty about everything a long time ago, right?” Calum nodded, feeling that bit of weight he hadn’t known was resting on his chest life away. With a smile, she continued, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t still be upset about everything in moments like these. You’re right: you did miss out on this with Luna because of me and your mom. And even though nothing will replace that, at least you know there won’t ever be moments that you’re gonna miss out in the future. Not if I can help it.”

It was crazy, in a familiar way, how effortlessly Aspen could ease any bit of troubles he was having. And it only made Calum think of how far they came to get to the point of where they were today. To be so happy, so close. He never knew a happiness like the one he did with Aspen.

So he cupped her cheek with his free hand, pulling her smiling face close to his as he caught her lips in a kiss they both constantly craved for. It was sweet, long, savoring the taste of each other and their minty toothpaste as their lips moved in practiced, perfected sync. “I love you,” she murmured against him.

His heart jumped every time she said it. He didn’t mind one bit. “I love you, too,” Calum returned, bringing his hands to grasp the back of her thighs to pull her close, prompting Aspen to uncross her legs to wrap them around Calum’s hips as she settled in the seat of his crossed legs. 

“You better,” she grinned as he kissed her, her arms wounding around his neck. “Because if this pregnancy is anything like the last, my cravings are gonna be wild.” Aspen pulled back just enough for their gazes to meet, and Calum was quick to pick up on the teasingly wicked look in the green of her irises to match the mischievous grin she wore. “And this time I’ve got my baby daddy at my beck and call.”

Calum snorted, not at all finding fear in her words like she wanted him to. With a smirk, he gave her thighs a squeeze and mused, “I put a baby in you; the least I could do is get you food so you don’t kill me for it.”

Aspen pressed her lips together in a close mouthed smile, chuckling as she nodded and gave him another kiss. “Smart man.”

--

tags: @irwinkitten​ @loveroflrh​ @sweetcherrymike​ @astroashtonio​ @softforcal​ @meetashthere​ @hereforlukescruff​ @novacanecalum​ @captain-what-is-going-on​ @angelbbycal​ @singt0mecalum​ @hopelessxcynic​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @bodhi-black​ @findingliam-o​ @softlrh​ @calntynes​ @calumsmermaid​ @erikamarie41​ @quintodosuniversos​ @longlastingdaydream​ @babylon-corgis​ @lukehemmingsunflower​ @imfuckin10plybud​ @pastelpapermoons​ @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92​ @rotten-kandy​ @metangi @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @old-zeppelin-shirt​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @cocktail-calum​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @calistheloml @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @wildflowergrae​

[not-the-cleavers]

Target II - Chapter 6

HOLY SHIT sorry for the delay but I seriously got into a rut of ‘I don’t wanna” then Queen happened but now Chapter 6 is here!!! Now I’m not going to lie I did channel Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds for a small section of this. Now Four comes across as a fuck boy in this chapter cause ya girl was dealing with some shit while writing this. Also I never thought that I would ever google “how to clean a gun” and “how to care for throwing knives” BUT HERE WE ARE!!!

Tags; @adrenaline-roulette​ and @amy-brooklyn99​ - if you would like to be tagged just let me know

Pairing; Four x Eight (female reader) Fandom; 6 Underground Warnings; Swearing, angst, mentions of trafficking again (sorry), violence against fellow ghosts and smoking Word count; 1.9k (total so far 9.8k) 

Summary; The team has moved onto their next target after dealing with Rovach Alimov, a war criminal named John Dough. Eight has just joined the team and is dying to show how much she deserves to be there

Catch up: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

A week has passed since my last interaction with Billy, was he avoiding me? I was able to keep my mind off the blonde for a while by concentrating on the hard drive and working out who John Dough interacted with most so we could hopefully take down his whole operation. Unfortunately, I made quick work of that task as Dough was meticulously organised. He had folders for business associates, shell companies, calendars and meetings with audio logs, he even had a folder for completed deals, and all were named as such. Normally organised hard drives were sought after, but all I wanted was a massive mess to have to dive into, search for what I need and take my mind off that stupidly beautiful blonde. So I started to make notes, prolonging my work and making the next brief easier, or at least that’s what I was telling myself. I decided a timeline was the best way to figure this guy out, so that’s exactly what I did. I hit play on a random playlist on my iPod to have play in the background while I focused. According to every system I had access to; John Dough did not exist before 2001 when he was 29. There are no birth or death certificates, no school, prison or medical records, no properties or loans under his name. He was effectively like us, a ghost. No real name or family, nothing tying him to anything before his crimes. Which began when he made a name for himself as a hitman. Starting slow, killing random strangers for other random strangers to make money, but without a conscious, it appeared he had no rules when it came to his murder for hire business. Three had previously mentioned almost all hitmen refuse to kill children, a few less refuse to kill women, but this guy had no cut off point. His youngest victim was just 6 months old when the car he was in with his mother exploded, as per the deal with the scumbag husband and father who paid him $500,000 for the hit. In 2008 he left the hitman business and became a human trafficker, more money and more risk involved with that particular lifestyle. And in that position he was able to create all sorts of partnerships with all types of psychopaths and lowlifes, so in 2011 when he decided that he wanted more money and more power, he became an arms dealer. His biggest earning clients were the terrorist cells he supplied with guns and chemical weapons. And that’s what he’s been doing for the past nine years, and that’s what caught One’s eye. One had a sneaking suspicion that Dough has supplied Rovach with the Sarin gas for the attack that he bore witness to all those years ago. Granted One had no idea I knew he was there during that attack, but I gather intelligence, of course I knew he was there.

Eight: Call a brief. One: You sure you’re ready, or do you still need your beauty sleep? Eight: Fuck off cunt. One: This better be fucking good. Hanger, 1 hour.

I busied myself, making seven copies of my notes and timeline and filed one copy into one folder for everyone, shoved another cigarette into my mouth and lit it, pocketed the pack and made my way over to the hanger with the files and my laptop. I had to set up to make this brief go smoothly, because unlike the rest of the ghosts, I have been legally dead for the past 3 years, well before One had recruited me. If One decided that he no longer needed me, I wasn’t stuck for options, he didn’t have to actually kill me and I could make do on my own, and he knew that.

I wirelessly connected my laptop to the multiple screens around the room, giving everyone a decent view of what I’ve found, and just as I was placing the folders around our table, One entered the room, making a scene and complaining that I was making the room smell worse with my cigarettes. “I prefer cigarette smoke over the smell of dried blood that normally floods this room” I sneered in his direction. He just rolled his eyes in response. Slowly everyone filtered in and took their seats, Billy was last in and refused to make eye contact with you. Fuck him; he doesn’t know what he’s missing! With a slight shake of my head I steadied my breath and started going over everything I know. “Alrighty squirrel friends, I have delved deep into this monsters hard drive and this is what I’ve learnt…” I started my monologue, going over the time line I created with all his victims in the early days, moving onto his trafficking days with the photos found a week ago inside their own manila folder for only the brave to look at. Four pushed that folder as far away from him as possible as soon as I mention what was inside. Finishing with his latest weapons deals that were leading to innocent deaths in the hundreds of thousands to possible millions. “Prior to 2001, there is nothing on him. I have no idea what this man was doing before he turned 29 so just in case it wasn’t obvious; John Dough is not his birth name.” this caused a small chuckle from the ghosts. “But what I do know, he travels to meet this man” I flashed a picture of a fat, white and balding man up on the screens for the team to see “twice a month, to eat expensive meals, drink ridiculously old and pricey scotch, smoke Cuban cigars and fuck high end prostitutes. Not to mention secure guns and chemical weapons for the people Dough sells to. His name is Stanislav Zakirov, a high level member of the Russian Mob. Now we could go after this piece of shit as well, but that would be more of a shit show than Hong Kong was. I would recommend hitting Dough after one of these meetings, after Zakirov leaves. This minimises the risk to us, keeps us away from the Russians, and means we can take this fucker down.” The room fell quiet as soon as I finished my speech; I was done talking so I just waited for someone to say something, a glance up at One revealed he was avoiding looking at me after his last words to me in person. After a few minutes with not a single word I decided I was done sitting around, I picked up my laptop once more, I walked past One and said loudly “Was that fucking good enough for you? Prick” lit another cigarette and walked out the hanger.  

Now with nothing to do to take my mind off everything that had happened over the past weeks I felt lost and unable to get rid of my anger, so a ritualistic activity was needed. Cleaning my guns and sharpening my knives. I walked to a rusted airplane fuselage across the lot that was upcycled into the armoury for the team, and over to my gear and started to lay out the items needed. I started with my knives, unsheathing the blades and placing them on the metal bench, and one by one sharpening them with my trusty bastard file, quickly washing away any shavings that might be left on the knife-edge and rubbing them down with lubricant, thankfully gun lubricant works for this as that’s all I had left. As I was sharpening the last blade I noticed it was slightly bent, possibly from the last mission, so I made quick work of straightening it out, placing it slightly offset from a piece of the fuselage and using my body weight. Not the best way to do it but after years I found it was the quickest. After all my knives were sharpened I started the formulaic process of cleaning my guns. Rolling out a towel and placing the brushes, lubricant, cleaning solvent and cotton swabs down and disassembling my guns one at a time. I found myself falling into rhythm, the clicks and smells of the cleaning solution taking my mind off the joke that was this teams current state of being. As I was working on my last gun my heightened instincts told me that someone was coming towards the armoury. I grabbed one of my knives and used my shirt to wipe away any remaining lubricant, and with one swift move I turned on the stool I was on and threw the blade. The knife pierced the plastic on the side of the planes body right by the door, a warning throw, not intended to harm but to scare away whoever was coming. “Fuck me dead Eight! You have to stop doing that to me” One’s voice, dripping with frustration and anger broke the silence of the room. “Maybe you should’ve learnt your lesson from last time and avoid sneaking up on me when I’m pissed off” I sneered, my attention was back to my gun, with one final click the barrel was back in place. “The fuck do you want, can’t you see I’m busy?” “Well we all wanted to know if you were coming back to the briefing or if you were gonna wallow here in self-pity” One snorted. That does it. I let loose another blade, this time aiming for his thigh, but he saw it coming and quickly dodged it. “See I did learn from last time” “Leave me alone One, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now. Last I checked, we were the ones working our asses off on your vendetta missions while you hang around out of danger and piss us all off.” I was yelling at this point. I was never one to hide my anger and One had hit just the right buttons, that and Four who was being the exact definition of a fuck boy right now, was enough to make me explode. “Now unless you’re here to apologise I suggest you get lost” my voice was almost a snarl at this point.

That’s when I noticed that the rest of the ghosts were also in the room with us, all but Two seemed surprised by my outburst, and even more so at my complete disregard to if I hit One or not. She had what almost looked like a smile on her lips. One pushed past them all in a huff, a string of profanities leaving his lips, all focused towards me. After a few awkward moments Two broke the silence. “Well I’m no pussy so I’ll speak. We agree with your plan, it’s smart and the easiest way to take him out. Also One is a dick. He wants to apologise but his ego is getting in the way” her French accent bringing an air of class to her words. The rest of the ghosts nodded along with her words.

“Right well he knows where to find me if he decides to pull his head out of his ass and apologise” I told her, standing from my position and making my way out of the room “excuse me, I need to be alone right now” I made my way past my team mates and out into the thick humidity of the Californian desert, unsure where I was going, but knowing I didn’t want to be around anyone.  

[cal-puddies]

meet fletch || pt. 8 || ashton irwin

meet fletch || pt 1 || pt 2 || pt 3 || pt 4 || pt 5 || pt 6 || pt 7

“You three look so handsome.” You say, admiring Cal, Ash and Fletch in their suits for Ashton’s upcoming wedding. 

It’s been a busy two years. Ash and Kay Kay broke up pretty soon after you and Fletch moved to LA. Ashton met Emma on a soul searching trip to Nashville and he instantly liked her. 

He talked her into moving to LA after 6 months and then proposed a year later. She was a great partner for you and Ash to have with Fletch and she was great with him, she also became one of your best friends. 

“We clean up.” Cal laughs.

“Alright. I’ve gotta get to the dress fitting. Fletch are you staying at Dad’s tonight or with Cal and I?” You ask, fixing his tie. 10 year old Fletcher was the spitting image of his father at that age, except he wore his natural curls instead of spiking it straight like Ash had done. 

“I’m gonna stay with dad, if that’s ok?” He checks. 

“Fine by me.” You look to Ash and he nods. “Let me know if we need to pack anything for you.” 

You were leaving for Nashville for the week the next morning. Emma was insistent she get married in her hometown and Ashton was gonna give her anything she wanted. 

You and Cal had bought a house after about a year and a half together, putting the two of you at about 3 years now. 

His ‘I love you’ slipped out while you were visiting them on their writing trip and you guys got drunk together. You knew Cal uttering those words was important. And you said it back. 

“I will.” Fletch smiles, “love you mom.” 

“Love you too bub, be good for Cal and Dad.” You warn and kiss his head. You lean over and kiss Ash on the cheek and Cal pulls you into a full on kiss and murmurs “love you” before letting you go for your own fitting. 

You head for the door and Cal turns to Ash and Fletch. “I have to talk to you guys about something and Ash I’m sorry I don’t want it to take away from you and your day.” He sighs, “but I wanna do it soon. I promise it won’t affect your wedding. I want to propose. Fletch you are an awesome kid and I love your mom so much, it’d mean the world if you were cool with it.” Cal appeals to Fletch. 

“Of course Cal; id love for you to be my pops.” Fletch hugs him. 

“Don’t call him Pops, it’s disrespectful.” Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“If he wants to call me pops, let him.” Cal laughs. “Ash?” 

“Of course, couldn’t think of anyone better to have be apart of this,” Ash hugs him next, “you’re incredible Cal, you know I think that of you. And you make her happy and you’re good to Fletch. I love this.” 

And that was that. 

Fletch thrived with two men of influence in his life, and it was a lot easier to be partners than enemies when it came to being a parent so having Ash and Emma on board with all decisions made it that much easier to co-parent. 

Cal comes home to you at the kitchen island with a glass of wine. “Whatcha got there?” He asks, filling the glass you’d left out for him. 

“Ash’s wedding gift.” You say, holding it up to show him the amended birth certificate with Ashton Irwin listed as the father, and the legal documents to officially change Fletch’s last name to his. 

Not a single soul questioned whether or not fletch was Ashton’s when he’d finally gotten to tell about 6 months before he met Emma. He was right and it had completely rocked you and Fletcher’s worlds to now have that much attention when you did anything normal, but you worked through it. 

“He’s gonna love that.” Cal says, wrapping an arm around the front of your shoulders and pushing his lips to your head. 

“Well, it’s about time,” you murmur. “Did y’all have a nice afternoon?” You ask. 

“Oh no! Emma is getting to you! ‘Y’all’,” he mocks. “Yes we did.” 

You chuckle and kiss his forearm. “What do you think, trash tv and packing?” You ask, turning to him. 

“I was hoping to get you naked.” He pouts. 

“Maybe after we pack?” You kiss his stuck out lip, “or, no fletch so we can just see what happens.” You shrug, grabbing the bottle and heading toward the bedroom. 

But Cal’s better than that and you’re naked with your fingers in his hair before the suitcases even came out. 

Emma grins wide when you and Cal meet the three of them at the airport. You were flying private, so it was a little easier than normal to fly. She gives you a big hug and then steals Cal away. 

“Um, the boys told me you were gonna propose and you thought you could keep it from me?!” She asks him, making sure you were out of ear shot. 

“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, I needed to make sure that Fletch was on board and Ash too, and then I didn’t want it to be over your wedding either…” he explains, shrugging. 

“Hood, are you kidding me! This is incredible news! I want to hear all about what you have planned.” 

“Nothing yet. I’ll know the time is right.” He admits. “I don’t think she needs the grand gesture.” 

“More than that, she wouldn’t want it.” Emma smiles at him, “it warms my heart that you know her so well.” 

He rolls his eyes and feels your arm slip around his waist. “Hey my love.” He murmurs. 

It was just the five of you, Mike and Crystal coming a couple days later and Luke and Sierra were already there. 

“Emma! Do you think Mason will be there?” Fletch asks, referring to her nephew who was the same age. 

“He will be!” She confirms, “which reminds me, my sister offered to watch Fletch for the week, so he can stay with Mason if we’re all ok with that.”

“Liz is crazy if she wants both of them.” You laugh. 

“You and Cal handled it when they came to visit.” Emma points out. 

“I still don’t know how.” You laugh. 

You and Cal get dropped at your Air bnb, which is on the same block as the house Ashton and Emma bought in Nashville. They take Fletch since Mason and Liz are picking him up from their place. “I like the idea of us being alone all week.” You smirk. 

“You ever get enough of me?” Cal smirks. 

“No, thank god for it too.” You laugh. 

“Yeah… I like you naked and begging for me.” He admits. 

“Usually the other way around, isn’t it?” You laugh. 

“In your dreams bubba.” He chuckles, pulling your in for a kiss. 

You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and murmur “only in my best, dirtiest dreams.” You chuckle. 

“I’m willing to dedicate time to explorin’ those.” He murmurs back, pulling your hips against his and leaning you back. Your arms wrap around his neck. 

“I let you... when you bring them up.” You bite his plump bottom lip and pull it between your teeth. 

“I’ll never understand how you absolutely trust me with the living human that’s the most important to you in the entire world, but you won’t trust me with a little wet dream.” He pecks your lips and lets you go, sitting on the bed. 

“Well when you put it that way.” You laugh, closing the space between you two to straddle him. 

Cal grins at you, his hands slowly move up your thighs, and then they are on your ass. He squeezes. He’s found out, on no admission of your own, that squeezing, spanking or rubbing on your ass were always a definite yes for you. You loved it. You rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle your nose against his neck. 

His lips trail up your neck to just beside your ear. “I wanna taste you, and then I wanna rail you.” He admits, nibbling your earlobe. You let out a little whimper and it’s all the assurance Cal needs that you want it too. 

The next thing you know, you’re sprawled on the bed Cal’s strong arms are wrapped around your thighs and you are moaning obscenely with fingers curled into his hair, heals pressed to his back. 

“Love when you’re loud,” he murmurs. “Know you’re close… let it go.” He coaxes. 

“Cal!” You whine, as his tongue teases your clit a little. “Holy fuck… want you to fuck me from behind.” 

“I will. I want to so bad baby… but you gotta cum.” He demands. His thumbs pull your lips apart and his tongue lightly teases your clit until you give him what he wants. Pulling his hair and moaning out his name. “There it is. Thank you,” He grins, releasing your thighs and kissing up your belly to your mouth. Your hands push into his boxer briefs and slowly start to jerk him. “My favorite girl.” He grins into another kiss. “You work me so well.” 

“Better be your only girl at this point Hood.” You chuckle, giving his cock an extra tight squeeze, then pushing his underwear off his hips. 

“When would I have time for another girl?” He chuckles, kissing you again quick before grabbing your hips and flipping you over. 

“Valid point. I do keep you pretty busy.” You wink over your shoulder at him. 

“And so very satisfied.” He confirms, kissing your shoulder. You push your hips up, getting your ass in the air and Cal settles on his knees behind you, he runs his hands over your ass and the back of your thighs before lining up. “Ready?” He asks. 

“Very.” You nod. Cal pushes in and is met with a moan from you. “fuck… I love you.” You look over your shoulder at him. 

Cal chuckles, “I love you too… but hopefully that’s not just for my cock.” 

“I’ll admit, it’s a nice, big, added bonus.” You smirk and it’s met with another chuckle. He smacks your ass and it’s met with whimpers. 

In the thick of it, Cal’s phone rings and he loses his rhythm a bit.. “wait babe…” he says. 

“Calum… you are literally balls deep with two fingers in my ass… if you go answer that phone you will regret it.” You warn. 

“Fair enough. I can call back.” He admits. His final few thrusts a few minutes later are hard and push you forward, pushing your face into the pillows as you moan for him and squeeze around his cock. He holds your hips and pushes his hard against yours. He collapses on top of you and presses kisses all over your shoulders and neck while you both catch your breath. “I love how hard you cum when you let me finger you ass.” 

“I love that you didn’t get freaked out when I said I wanted to try it.” You admit, laughing. You reach back and splay your fingers in his hair. “Also love you on top of me when we finish. It feels so personal.” You whisper. 

“It’s very personal.” He agrees. “I just need to be close to you.” He sighs, “but I’m open to anything baby, so you ever have one of those fantasies you wanna try. Just let me know.” He kisses your cheek and rolls off of you onto his back beside you, pulling you in close, smoothing your hair on your head. 

Your phone buzzes on the bedside table and Cal grabs both, holding yours up first. “What is it?” You ask. 

“Ash and Em wanna take us to dinner tonight.” 

“Why?” You whine. “Fine… s’pose we gotta eat sometime.” 

“We don’t have to babe. We can order in or go out and grab something ourselves.” He laughs. 

“It’s fine. Let’s just do it.” You groan. 

“Mmkay… he said they’d be here at 530. We should shower.” Cal says softly. 

There wasn’t an inch of your body you didn’t want Calum to know or touch, so he was comfortable helping you clean out any lingering cum, and making sure he got the lube cleaned from your ass. 

And then you were half dressed and putting on makeup, Cal’s next to you trying to do something with his hair. “Would you have wanted to meet me earlier, before ash?” You ask, blending out some eye shadow. 

“I never would have been ready for you earlier than when I met you. Not mature enough to understand Fletch’s role in your life, or the One Ash would come to have. Even if it was before Ash, I never would have been able to keep you.” He admits. 

You stop what you're doing a minute and look over at him, smiling. “I love you. I don’t know what I expected you to say to that, but that wasn’t it and it was perfect.” 

He stops fussing with his hair and grabs your hips to turn you to face him. “Here’s what I do know: if everything stopped tomorrow… if I couldn’t do music, if I had you and fletch, that’d be enough. It’d be more than enough.”

You make a big pouty face at him and he kisses your bottom lip, “we have 15 minutes, I’m gonna need you to find a shirt.” 

“Let’s stay in and go round two.” You quirk an eyebrow. 

“No… we already said we’d go… I’d love nothing more than to give you hours and hours exploring our dirty minds. But it’s important for us to celebrate them this week.” Cal insists. 

“I know.” You push against him and cal kisses your head. 

He gently drums on your butt, “let’s move it little lady.” You quickly finish your makeup and pull a shirt on, and a pair of heels. Cal grabs your leather jacket as you put things in your bag. “You ready baby cakes?” 

“Yeah. You look handsome.” You say, giving him a once over. 

“Gotta look my best to stand next to you.” He chuckles, holding your jacket out for you to put on. You slip it on and lean up to kiss him, and then Ash and Emma are there. 

Dinner is uneventful. But Cal buys a round of shots. And then Ash does, and then you’re moving onto another bar, and Luke and Sierra join you. And before you know it, you’re tipsy, but so is everyone else. You’re sipping your drink and you look at Ashton who’s seated next to you. “I wanna tell you something.” 

“What is it?” He asks, his tipsy energy matches yours. 

“I wanna marry Cal.” You giggle. 

“Wait!” Luke turns to you, “did you just say?” 

“Luke stop eavesdropping!” You hit his shoulder. “It’s a secret.” 

“I won’t say a word.” He promises. 

But ash is staring at you with a big grin on his face, and he pulls you into a hug. “Yes I love this. I support it… I honestly thought you’d never get there.” 

“We’ll revisit, but I’m happy you’re into it.” You smile. Ash kisses your forehead and then Cal’s back. 

“Baby cakes, how ya feelin?” He checks. 

“I love you. I’m very happy right now.” You say, smiling at him. 

“I love you too. You wanna go home with me?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You nod. Cal holds out his hands and pulls you to your feet. 

“Boo! The party is leaving!” Luke calls. 

“Guys we have the bachelor and bachelorette parties tomorrow. No one needs to get smashed tonight.” Cal reminds the group. 

“Fuck. You’re right.” Ash groans.”ok ok… let’s get an uber. We can come back for the car tomorrow.”

And then you’re home but you’re still in a Cal bliss you can’t quite describe. You’re in his shirt and you’re both having another drink and your hands are always on him, he’s noticed. 

“What’s up?” He asks. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, knotting your fingers into his shirt as you sit on the couch, the tv on. 

“You just… I’m not mad… but you’ve been attached to me all night.” 

You think about it a minute. “I dunno Cal… I just feel really in love with you and I feel like I need to be close and touching you.” Your eyebrows knit together. “I dunno why.” 

“That’s ok. Be as close as you want.” He nods, kissing the top of your head. “What do you want for your future?” He asks. 

“You.” It’s the only answer you have for him. 

Cal looks at you and blinks. “Grab this blanket. Go out back. I’ll be there in a minute.” He says. You do as he asks, but you don’t like it. 

He’s quick and he’s out back with you. He grabs the blanket and holds it around the both of you. “I’ve kinda had this thing on my mind lately… and I wanted to wait… but I already talked to Fletch and Ash about it…” 

“I want to get married.” You blurt out. “To you.” You make it clear. 

“I’m literally proposing to you right now!” Cal says, exasperated. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to say it. I wanted you to know that I feel it too. And that you’re what I look for in my future.” You shrug. 

“Baby.” He coos. “Me and you and fletch. Forever. That’s what you want?” 

“Yeah… yes.” You nod. “Wait! Do you want more kids?” You ask. 

“With you, yes.” He nods. 

“Ok yes!” You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying not to cry. Cal slips the ring on your finger, he knows you didn’t care about the ring. It was the gesture. You didn’t bother looking at it and immediately press yourself into him. 

The next few days are a blur, half from alcohol and half from all the goings on of the wedding. It was hard, you wanted to be exclusively intertwined with Calum, but you both had wedding duties to attend to that took you to opposite schedules. Only passing when you collapsed together on the couch after a long day. 

“I miss Fletch.” You admit. 

“Has he called you?” Calum asks. 

“Yeah… I still just miss him. He’s my baby.” You shrug. 

“I know. I was just making sure because he’s called me a couple times.” Cal admits. 

“We should call him and tell him about the engagement?” You ask. 

“Yes. I haven’t told him. Didn’t want to take that away from you. And I haven’t mentioned it to Ash 

either.” 

“It’s your news to share too.” You shrug. 

“Not to them. My family yes… but not those two people. Emma is gonna be so stoked too.” He chuckles. 

“I don’t wanna take away from their day.” You admit. 

“Speaking of, were gonna have long days with the wedding tomorrow.” He mentions. 

You let out a sigh and grab your phone, FaceTiming Fletch. He answers quickly, “did you say yes?” He asks. 

You chuckle and hold up your hand, showing the ring, Cal beaming in the background. “She did.” 

“Wanted you to hear it from both of us.” You smile. 

“Good. Thank you. I’m so excited.” Fletch grins and you again see so much of Ash in him. 

“I got lucky with you, kid.” You admit. 

“Love you mom, Cal.” He grins. 

“Love you.” You both say, “goodnight.” 

The next day is stressful, but you forget about it as Emma hands you a mimosa and a breakfast sandwich as someone twists your hair up the way she wanted it. “You have news for me.” She says, not asking. 

“Cal proposed.” You say quietly, so none of the other bridesmaids you didn’t know that well could hear. She holds her hand out and you quickly twist the ring. “I’ll take it off for the wedding.” You promise. 

“You won’t!” She insists. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you two. How did he do it?” 

“I cut him off and did it first…” you admit, scrunching your nose. “I’ve just been really feeling it this week. So so in love and being around all the wedding stuff and seeing you and ash.” You explain. “We were just on the deck after we went out the other night.” 

“It’s perfect for you guys. So natural.” She grins. 

And then it’s late in the afternoon, everyone is dressed and you slip out with the papers for Ash. You find the room the guys are in, and Luke opens the door, he grins wide and pulls you into a hug, whispering a ‘congrats’. 

“Hey.” Ash says, looking at you, “what are you doing here?” 

“Uhm. Fletch and I have something for you and we wanted to give it to you early, so it didn’t get lost in the shuffle.” You explain, stopping in front of him. Fletch comes to stand next to you and Cal walks back in at that moment.

You hand the Manila envelope to Ash and he pulls it open. On top is the birth certificate. “You didn’t…?” He asks in shock. 

“It was time.” you nod.

And he flips to the next page and you and fletch watch him read it. “Wait, fletch is taking my last name?” He asks. 

“Yeah, it was his idea.” You nod. 

Ash covers his eyes with his free hand. “I wasn’t planning on crying yet.” He admits. “Thank you guys.” He pulls you and fletch into him. “I love you both so much.” He admits. “This… I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” He admits. 

“Glad you like it.” You grin, pulling back and letting Ash hug his son. 

Cal rests his hand on your back and you look at him, “you look gorgeous.” He whispers. 

“Thank you.” You grin. 

“Let me see.” Ash says, pulling your attention from Cal. You look at him, confused a moment and then he insists “the ring.” You pass over your hand, “incredible job Cal. It’s perfect.” He admits. 

“Thank you.” Cal grins.

“I love this. This day is perfect. My son has my last name, my name is on his birth certificate, my best friend has proposed to a wonderful woman, I’m marrying the woman of my dreams with all of the amazing people I love.” Ash sighs. 

“Ok. I’ve gotta get back. I just wanted you to have this before all the madness.” 

Ash and Emma both make sure there are plenty of pictures of the 5 of you and then you and fletch with ash and also Calum while you’re getting the pictures. 

And then, the party starts. And while you’re trying to stay present in the celebration, you’re living in your love for Cal, your appreciation for the man he’s always been to you, for his never ending patience while you figure things out with Ash, and him being included in fletch decisions. None of it was easy, but he handled it all so well. 

“Come dance with me.” Cal says, approaching you. He holds his hand out and you grab it, and he pulls you and spins you into him, a thing he’s always kind of done for you. 

He keeps you close, he can tell you’re in your head. “Love you.” You murmur. 

“I know.” He kisses your forehead. “I didn’t expect you to have this kind of reaction to Ash getting married.” 

“What reaction is that?” You question. 

“In your head and so totally in love like you are.” 

“I dunno Cal. I dunno what it is. But everything right now…” 

“You don’t need to say it, my love. I know.” He nods. 

The song switches and it’s slower, cal pulls you closer, but Fletch taps on his shoulder. “Hey cal, can I dance with my mom?”

Taglist: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @september09241994 @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @slimthicccal @softboycal @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @therealmrshale

gc tags: @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @5sosnsfw @angelbabylu @aspiringwildfire @irwinkitten @lashtoncurls @myloverboyash @singt0mecalum

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

[ad1thi]

sin city (wasn’t made for you)

@imposter-human wrote me this amazing fic that was begging for a sequel, so here it is!

–

this got super long, so beware the read more! also please go through the tags for trigger warnings i don’t wanna accidentally upset anyone. bear in mind this is a serial killer fic, so morality is slightly screwy here

–

“You’re a-” Tony splutters, “this is a -” he stumbles back, hitting the door without realising 

His hands automatically starts fumbling for the knob, but he can’t turn, he can’t tear his eyes away from Bucky- who’s frozen in the motion of scrubbing blood from his shirt

There’s silence as words die in Tony’s throat, save for the jiggling of the lock

“It uh, locks immediately,” Bucky finally says, “i have to release it for you to get out”

“And you’re not going to do that are you,” Tony says, “of course not why would you? I just stumbled onto your murder dungeon you’re not stupid”

Tony sinks to the floor, breathing haphazardly, “I can’t breathe- oh my god I can’t breathe!”

Bucky is over in an instant, crouching and grabbing Tony’s hand to place on his chest

“Can you feel the rise and fall of my chest doll?” Bucky’s free hand is cupping his neck, but Tony has enough range to nod dumbly, “great can you just focus on that for me?”

“Focus on my breathing doll thats it try and follow it”

Tony’s eyes slowly go glassy, and he slumps against Bucky- erratically gasping for air like a fish out of water

Dimly, he can feel Bucky’s fingers against his cheek and hear his voice; but its so far away and Tony’s bed is so close

so he fights the urge to reach his boyfriend, and just, falls

–

Tony wakes up, and he’s on a bed

More accurately, he’s on his bed

Chained to his bed with handcuffs that he and Bucky experimented with a couple of months back and god all the signs were there weren’t they?

The way Bucky kept odd hours, the constant stench of blood that surrounded him, the ways his eyes lit up when Tony talked about the murders in his books

God for the first couple of months the only way to get Bucky excited was Tony describing a murder from one of his books; how could he have been so blind?

Tony pulls at the chains experimentally, but he knows how sturdy the handcuffs are so its a lost cause

And the worst part is, Tony thinks, pulling his knees up and linking his arms under him, I still fucking love him

Absently, he wonders how pathetic it makes him; the fact that Bucky is a bona-fide serial killer and Tony is seriously considering still proposing to him

“You would’ve hit me on the back of the head and straightened me out, but this is what you get for dying in combat honeybear ” Tony says softly into the air and if the fact that he was talking aloud to his dead ex wasn’t a sign that he was going insane; what else was?

The door creaks open, and Tony’s eyes lift to see Bucky holding a tray of food; but his chin stays resting on his knees

The bed shifts slightly as Bucky sits down, and Tony obediently opens his mouth when Bucky nudges a spoon at him

If it wasn’t for the handcuffs and the bright red liquid staining Bucky’s neck; Tony could almost pretend that he was sick and Bucky was looking after him

As opposed to, you know, the reality- which was that Tony was a captive of a serial killer

Bucky lifts up a glass, and cups Tony’s chin to gingerly serve him water- but he doesn’t touch him otherwise

He keeps his hands to himself, folded on his lap; and his head cocked; silently waiting for Tony to say something

“So,” Tony says finally, because it is a well documented fact that silence makes Tony uncomfortable, “how did this whole thing begin?”

He gestures vaguely at the blood coating Bucky, and Bucky must’ve not realised he still had blood on it because he lifts his fingers to his neck and looks surprised when it comes back red

“Shit,” he curses, before looking back at Tony with wide eyes, “I’m sorry I thought I’d gotten it all off before I came in”

“I walked in on your murder dungeon Buck,” Tony says; the nickname slipping out, “I don’t think a bit of blood will startle me”

“Plus,” he lifts his hands to clink the chains, before re-wrapping them around his feet, “ ‘s not like I can go anywhere”

Bucky winces, “I’m sorry about the chains, they’re just a precaution. I didn’t, I didn’t want you to run before I had a chance to explain myself”

Tony snorts, “I am your captive audience”

The corner of Bucky’s lips curl up; but he otherwise looks genuinely apologetic

It’s funny, Tony always assumed that murderers were sociopaths; but Bucky is fucking with his empirical data

“The first time was um, when I was 17 maybe 18?” Tony’s face must show his surprise because Bucky hastens to explain, “yeah there was a girl in my class, Nat? She’d been having some trouble with the guy who lived across hall from her and her mom, and so I uh- I took care of it”

“My hero,” Tony says and Bucky rubs the back of his self consciously

“I don’t-” Bucky starts and then stops, “I don’t mindlessly kill. I wanted you to know that. The system is broken, and there are so many fucked up people who get away with shit every single day and I just -” he breaks off again, and looks up at Tony imploringly

“I mean to lie to you, I really did start out in forensics,” Bucky says- and it must speak to how fucked up Tony’s heart is that it still flutters for the man in front of him, “but I just watched Stevie catch so many people who would slip through the cracks of our justice system and I -”

“The day after I killed Mr. Pierce, was the first day that Nat came to school without bruises,” Bucky reaches out for Tony; his face dropping when Tony instinctively flinches back, “I know its wrong. I know murder is wrong. But how can someone that stopped a 16 year old from being raped be so bad?”

“I don’t mindlessly kill,” Bucky says again, “but I do, kill that is. Everyone that I kill, deserves to die”

“A modern age Robin Hood,” Tony says lightly because he isn’t sure to do with all the information he just received, “just more murder-y”

Bucky cracks a real smile at that, and Tony thinks to himself im so fucked

//

It’s a couple of years after they’ve skipped town to avoid Detective Rogers (its weird calling him that, I always knew him as Stevie, Bucky had said once) when Tony abruptly turns to Bucky and says “I want to join”

It wasn’t easy getting used to the fact that his husband had a body count of 44 (and climbing) but Bucky hadn’t lied

Everyone that he’d ever killed, deserved to die

Loan sharks, rapists, men who preyed on children, women who drugged old pensioners- every single person that Bucky had killed had been arrested but acquitted on a technicality

Tony had to quit his day job, and he wrote under an alias and posted the work to Pepper anonymously so she wouldn’t be implicated in any way; and he and Bucky were married in secret and their marriage certificate locked up- but it was worth it

Bucky was worth it

6 years on and Tony still loves him so fiercely he thinks he may die from it, which is why he says “I want to join”

Bucky looks up from where he’s meticulously cleaning the bullets of any fingerprints and holding them into his pistol, mouth hanging slightly open

Tony chuckles and presses his fingers to his husband’s chin; pushing his mouth closed and leaning in for a feather-light kiss

“You’ll catch flies that way, Buck” he says, before leaning back and spreading his hands out, “well?”

Bucky’s face scrunches up, “Why?”

Tony shrugs, “you get so, excited after a kill and I just, I wanna experience that. That rush you feel”

“Plus,” he says- slipping on some gloves and taking the pistol from Bucky, “I’m a crack shot”

He lifts the gun over Bucky’s head; closes his eyes, kisses Bucky- and shoots

Bucky breaks the kiss to look over his shoulder at where there’s a perfect hole though the hole of the woman in the painting and turns back to Tony with a wicked smile, “oh darling you’ve been holding out on me”

–

Tony’s standing over the dead body, gun still pointing at his forehead; when Bucky walks over

“Doll,” he says quietly, “doll we gotta move before the police arrive”

Tony turns to him with wide eyes, and when he shifts his Bucky’s arms- Bucky can feel his cock at half mast against his thighs

“You never told me it felt like that,” Tony whispers; his voice dropping to a rich baritone voice, “I mean- you talked about it, but I never realised it felt like that”

There’s something akin to awe in Tony’s voice, and he can’t seem to look away from the body strewn across the floor

Bucky has to hand it to him, he shot the guy directly between the eyes- and there’s barely any blood splatter

Bucky rocks his thigh against Tony’s cock slightly; grinning when he moans, “It feels good doesn’t it?”

Tony nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth

“Doll,” he whispers, “as much as I’d like to stay and help you take care of that here- we gotta skip before the cops get here”

“Stevie got way too close to catching me last time, and orange washes me out”

He holds his hand out for the gun, and Tony clicks on the safety and passes it over

He walks over to the bin in the corner of the room, “you shaved off the serial numbers right?” he calls over his shoulder

“I uh, burned them off with hydrochloric acid,” Bucky turns to look at Tony with raises eyebrows, “its a trick I learnt when I was shadowing the FBI. They can re-create shaved off serial numbers but not when they’re burned off. It’s how the IRA would get away with stolen guns back in the day”

“God I could kiss you right now,” Bucky says- stretching out his hand so Tony will take the hint and join him, “but that’ll just have to wait for when we’re back home”

Tony bypasses his hand and tucks himself under Bucky’s shoulder- grinning when Bucky’s hand slips back his shoulder to palm his ass

“Well then” Tony says, “we better get home fast”

Fin

–

tag list: @theavengays, @sleepyoldchild,  @wintersoldierland, @wecollectnightmares, @starkwannabe, @nightwingingthis, @im-ironman 

btw the tag list is still open if you wanna send me an ask and be added to it, you’ll be automatically tagged in everything i write!!

[chaoticlamphoagietaco]

2020?

Well what can I say, it seems like it’s ending with a bang, but there’s still two months left.

Biden is president, and trump has yet to retaliate, I wonder what that’s going to look like.

My boyfriend and I are having sexual issues, or rather I’m seeing issues in our sexual habits.

It feels one-sided, I please him (he cums), he pleases me and I don’t cum. It’s frustrating because I’ve seen him go on hikes, talk to people for hours, if you can be active in this way, why is it difficult to just suck my dick for like 30? I understand if you lock jaw, but over the course of our relationship, sex has been me being patient and him getting off. It’s hard to maintain sexual interest, and maybe that’s why my mind goes in these fantasies. I’m almost at the point where if we have anal, I know where gonna end up jerking off... maybe I’m asking for too much, or maybe I’m just tired of being patient.... I wanna see if he will be open to swinging, or wearing a long dildo for a couple of days to resolve the issue, but I’m not sure how he will respond, or when this conversation will happen. I’m hoping that Sunday will be the day but I’m not sure.

I miss my mother, I feel her trying to reach me but I struggle to connect to her spirit. There’s so much unsaid, that it’s hard to equate the relationship to only a spiritual level. I... don’t know what I would say. Am I angry for the suppression. Of my dance enthusiasm? Am I upset because I never told her I was gay? Am I upset because she’ll never see the fruition of my dreams?

Ri

Speakings of, I don’t know my dreams,p anymore.... or rather they feel like they are transforming. I wanted to be a research analyst after falling out of love with psychotherapy and sociology, but I realized what that actually meant. Research analyst is a broad term, that can encompass a business, health centers/organizations, government, and nonprofit. And essentially these are all the sectors you. And work for other than a school which I do not want to do. Through my conversation. With NASA I found more about becoming a data analyst, and while the salary was enticing I realized that was a computer science that didn’t incorporate sociology or psychology like I had hoped. When I stumbled upon market/marketing research analyst I was hooked. I knew that finance and accounting wasn’t my passion, but marketing itself wasn’t either. Marketing has been largely traditional, and digital marketing is basically a new field. I think this is why I made the decision to transfer my major so hastily, it encompasses everything I was searching for with program evaluation, I can conduct research based on consumer intelligence which incorporatess social psychology, and have the promising effects of impact. Or in other words, my research will be used and considered valuable to the company I’m working for or working with. In program evaluation, sociology and psychology, the effect that your research has is truly perceptional and has a large ambiguity around its impact. You can go 4-10 years without achieving a goal you intended, which is expected and encouraged in some situations. On top of all this, withi program Evaluation and psychology there’s an expectation around the support you give in the exchange. Not only am I conducting research for MBH, but we (the school) are helping the business attract African America. Participants to their establishment, which can be done in so many different ways, it would take. A considerable amount of money, resources, and process and attention needs to be there if you want to achieve an impact. How can this be achieved when the business in itself is not liable for its own pretentiousness? Or it’s own self-processing that I can’t change? Thankfully, with marketing I get the best of both worlds. I can incorporate my social psychology background, while also attending to my creative side in branding, and even furthermore conducting meaningful research that is almost guaranteed to have an impact (since if I don’t, I’m not doing my job well haha) and will be used as vital data for profitability will not only motivate me to take the job, my peers, and the business seriously, but will also compensate me tremendously well, I mean it’s very lie,oh that in 2-3 years time I could be making a 6 figure salary. With this in mind, I feel Clarity around my occupational pursuits, but as for my dreams... that’s another story...

My dance past is struggle to bring up, even typing....,

I was so close, yet everything was taking from me, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

With this, I keep falling in and out of love with dance, I watch a video and I feel inspired to dance again. I’m feeling more drawn to Alonzo Lines ballet, Nunes, and of course my all time favorite Batsheva. But watching hip hop videos make me cry, it reminds me of what I use to be, what I could have become, and how many friends I’ve lost along the way. Dance is brutual, forcing vulnerability and deep connection within a short period of time, I’m not sure how I to come back to it but I’m getting more inspired to. My roommate doesn’t make me feel comfortable eno to explore my creative side, but when me and bf live together, I hope I can feel more comfortable and start recording myself more often, the encouragement he brings is so ephemeral, I’m lucky to have him. But I know that at the least, if I came back to dance, I outdone be more interested in dance film, and being inside of that industry rather than concert dance, sinner the world is kind of moving into a digital world, definitely open to site specific work, given the right amount of viewers and support of course,

For my other dreams that are transforming, I know want to become marketing manager, and possibly a yoga teacher. I’ve gone back and forth with a yogic certificate, but I didn’t feel that I had enough practice, knowledge, or the right people to start with a subject like that. But fuck, I mean soooo many white people do it haha. I’m feeling more motivation for this certificate since I realized that I can make friends this way. I can find like minded people who practice, engage in processing, and are willing to go into platonic physical interactions, since I’m also realizing this is crucial for me in any platonic relationship. If this program started progressing, this could become a business that provides an income, I met awesome people, and I can a lot of ppl along the way. Downsides are of course if the business collapses, but I would gain knowledge in Hinduism which I’ve been wanting but unsure how to engage in.

What’s serendipitous though, is that the the timing of marketing could not be better, a program has a date right after my classes end, I can attend their classes, then continue my spring courses, and work a full time job and on my way to 6 figures. There’s so many resources and side that this transition feels right and meaningful, I’m feeling good about this change, I just hope I won’t want to change again 5 years from now.

Hinduism and Buddhism.... my practices and faith have been wavering, after Naropa, my experience with Buddhism is a bit tainted, maybe I need to go to retreat again and release any energy surrounding my mother, but other factors play a part. The prentiousness, the fake smiles, that school had a lot of problems, but none more so than racism pure and simple. This is why I love Virginia, racism over there is overt and blatant, I know who the racist is and I know where not to go. Here in boulder, everybody will smile at you, and you don’t know who is truly being racist, you have to really read behind the lines and analyze to understand the truth of what somebody is saying, I mean the school burned down on its own so I think my wishes are being granted... I don’t know where this leaves me with Buddhism, Charlotta was amazing, and I want to attend her classes, but something always holds me back and I don’t know what. In regards to Hinduism, my yoga sequence has pretty much been the only stabilizing thing in my life. Through all the obstacles and trauma, maintains these practices have really kept me balanced through whatever comes my way, although I have been slacking I some ways, I’ve also been progressing in chakras, balancing, and following a routine. Maybe in this way, Buddhism is something for me to contemplate, maybe Hinduism is what I want to talk about...there it is, Buddhism is my process and Hinduism is my faith. Shiva will always be my everything, in not sure why on that mountain, or even if I made a connection, but that trip to Japan truly changed me, and I want to follow a Shiva path that is right for me, I just wish I had someone to help guide me, but that might make things harder.

[starktson]

What to do after you change your name

So you just changed your name, what now? Well in South Carolina, the first thing after you receive your court order is to go to the Social Security Office and apply for a new social security card. I went pretty early in the morning and I was definitely the youngest person there. I had printed out this form and already fill it out prior to going to the office. I don’t really remember what else but my new one came in the mail a few weeks later.

https://www.ssa.gov/forms/ss-5.pdf

After receiving your new social security card, you will need your birth certificate. I had put in my petition to receive a new one because in SC, they will not give you a new one unless you request to have it amended. The quickest way is to go to the DHEC office in Columbia. You can go to your local or closest one but they will have to mail stuff off to Columbia. Then Columbia has to find and mail things back so that could take up to 6 weeks. I went to my local office and was told all this but I made the decision to go to Columbia. I had my court order and new social security card and I went to the office. They took a my certified copy of my court order and I was not prepared for that. Luckily I had a second official copy not just photocopied but yeah be prepared for that. It also costs $12. 

https://www.scdhec.gov/sites/default/files/Library/D-2595.pdf

Next is the DMV, this was actually the easiest one for me. You’ll need your court order, social security card, and birth certificate. Fill out this form and I had to get a new license so I had to pay for that but it was actually the quickest and easiest trip to the DMV ever. 

http://www.scdmvonline.com/-/media/Forms/4057.ashx?la=en&hash=0EB9103C93678B33F0FB3CD45E171B582A6A50CD

After getting all of those you’re set as to your government identifications but even a year and a half later I am finding things I would not have thought about so here’s a list of things to get changed after you have all of the above:

(Also I recommend scanning your court order, license, birth certificate, and social security card and keeping them in your files on your phone (if you have an iPhone) because you will be sending a lot of emails and need them)

-BANK (I went in person and they changed the name on the account but I ended up having issues with it not being changed with paying people because it was a separate system. It could have just been my bank but make sure that not only is your account name changed and new card applied for but to send money to a friend and see if it’s under your new name or not. I had to play phone tag for a few weeks to get it fixed)

-Depending on how important it is to you, your diploma(s). I personally wanted my name on mine and so I had to call and they won’t give you a new one unless you say you changed genders. I guess it is all based on your school district too. It also cost some money so it’s not really necessary if you don’t want it

-I am going into college so I had to get my test scores all changed. So I reached out to College Board via email and that took about a week. My school district is dumb and won’t actually let me change it on my transcript but I am trying. 

-YOUR CREDIT!!! I am having so many issues with this right now. I had to mail TransUnion a copy of everything to get it changed and I probably will have to with Experian and Equifax. Credit Karma still does not believe it is me and I have been fighting with them for almost 6 months. So after I changed it with Trans Union and Credit Karma didn’t work Credit Sesame is a good alternative.

-Email, you might wanna make a new one with your new name because even if you change your name on your email, whatever name you set up your account as is what it will say whenever you send someone an email

-Landlords, employers/HR, coworkers, friends, doctor’s offices, social media

-PHARMACY!!! INSURANCE!!! My pharmacy is a local family owned one and they were great but I’m sure big chains are probably a pain. Insurance luckily enough my mom had just got us new insurance a few months after my name change so I just had to apply as my new name. 

I will continue to update the list as I remember things but yeah. Those are the big ones and I still randomly get spam emails addressed to my birth name and it is very awkward. So yeah...send me any questions if you have any :D

[perspicacious-dragon-of-welkin]

How did you know which major to choose in college?

TL;DR

Basically my advice is this:

Follow your gut. Find what feels right.

Keep your options as open as possible, but don't be afraid to dive deep into something.

Changing your mind is 100% OKAY. So many people take time off from school to figure themselves out. And maybe technical school is a better fit for you if working with your hands is your thing?? Or do a year of something and switch programs! Your courses might just count as electives in another degree.

You will be scared. Life is like that. But never make a decision out of fear. Never choose not to do something because of how you fear it may turn out. Decide based on what good could happen from each of your options.

Work hard, play hard. Join clubs, join groups, meet people. Your classes are only half of school. What you learn out of fun will stick with you way longer and be so much more helpful.

Finally, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. You can't pour from an empty cup. After you graduate no one will care about your grades. A degree is a degree. And you can't work if you are drained. Your mind and body is a machine. It needs fuel, it need maintenance, and it needs appropriate rest. Keep yourself running well, and your life will become so much easier.

Haaaaaa...

Honestly? I didn't. Still don't really. But that’s okay.

See, the way it went was in Grade 11 (Where I live, high-school ends after Grade 12), so in grade 11 I started going to info fairs and stuff and hearing people's sales pitches for their programs, and universities and colleges. My grades were always best in Maths and Science courses, and I enjoyed those the most so I knew I was gonna go for something in STEM (Science Technology Engineering Mathematics). I'd had a few people say I'd be good at Engineering, and I'd taken like 30 online quizzes to find out what career would be best for me. I got things like "Custom Boat Builder" (What?? I mean, cool! But what?? Dude, I live in the prairies. Not many boats around here.), and "School Counsellor" (I felt my INFJ coming out in that one), and "Tour Guide", but Engineering of some type was usually somewhere on most of those lists, and it seemed most reasonable and attainable for me. My social skills aren't the best, and while I don't suck at talking to people it drains me a lot, so I really wasn't sure I wanted to make a career out of anything like that. Engineering held esteem, and good prospects for yearly salary, the stereotype around here is that Engineers can't communicate (mostly true) so expectations wouldn't be high for that... It was a good, safe choice, and presented a challenge for me. Everyone told me it would be hard. The hardest thing I'd ever done. I wanted to prove I could do it. So I did. Grade 12 I went to four or five engineering info sessions for local colleges and universities, and I researched any place I could possibly afford to go to in Canada. The list wasn't big.

Many universities were much more competitive than the one I chose, but mine was known for a very.. intimate? Student population? Small, but not too small, and students were known to join up and work together to get through things while some Universities had stories of students sabotaging other's work to gain a higher standing in their classes. The University was one of the cheapest ones (I really didn't have much money saved up. Student loans are definitely a thing), but it wasn't the cheapest on the list. It was one I felt would be of good quality. It wasn't too far from home, that I couldn't travel back in a day, but it was far enough it felt like I was starting something new on my own. I applied within the first four months of grade 12, about 8 months before the time I'd start classes there. I got accepted, found a place to live and completed my first year of General Engineering. After the first year in Uni we were able to request our discipline (what type of Engineering, e.g. Civil, Chemical, Mechanical, etc.) And we had had some opportunities through the year to hear what each discipline was about. I thought I would be going into Chem Eng when I started first year, but decided that was definitely not for me after I took my first university chemistry class, and heard what most chemical engineers did. I decided instead on Engineering Physics despite not really enjoying physics as much as the other sciences in High-school. There was just so many cool things to learn!! And they also told me Eng Phys was "the hardest discipline". It included an extra calculus course above the other disciplines and many other physics courses generally considered very difficult. Again, I wanted to prove I could do it. I went HARD. Studied hard. Took two classes per term above what the university recommended because that was the program. Honestly I think I burnt out. I worked too hard for too many years without taking proper care of myself. Averaging 4-6hrs of sleep a night and eating about 1 meal a day for two years.

***Seriously, take my advice: school is great and important, but TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. Go out and make friends. Don't neglect your work to party, but don't neglect your social life to study. AND PLEASE eat and sleep at least close to the recommended amounts***

Anyway, I did some planning and altered my course load, changed some habits, started going to the gym regularly, and I'm doing better now. But you want to hear about major's right?

Basically I didn't choose. In my second year, I took my first ever coding course. I spent the least amount of time on that course and received my highest grade ever in university (still nowhere as high as my high-school grades, but it's uni.) Many of my classmates registered in a program that offered a computer science bachelor's degree alongside your engineering degree for 12 additional courses, which for engineering is about 1 year - 2 terms. I signed up immediately. Those classes have been a great confidence boost, average boost, brain break, and bonding experience with classmates also in the program.

So to tally this up, I'm then registered in

- BEng in Eng Phys, and

- BSc in Comp Sci.

Then, third year. We took the mandatory communications class (remember everyone says engineers can't communicate). I loved it. Decent grades. Not as great as my Comp Sci, but better than my Physics. The classes are in rhetorical theory and persuasion because when you do the math and actually know how something works, it's important you be able to tell people what you know and have them believe you. My professor was the incoming dean for a 'school of professional development' that had recently opened in the college. They were offering a certificate (6 courses, a.k.a. 1 term, half a year) in rhetorical theory and professional communication. Guess who also signed up for that?

So if you've been keeping track, that's a 4yr BEng, 3yr BSc (done in one yr due to double counting courses) and a 0.5yr certificate. That's 5.5yrs of undergrad I've suddenly racked up. And remember how I burnt out just a while back because my BEng program wants be to take 7 courses a term instead of 5? Well I made it 6yrs and smushed some courses over to fill that last year so I don't have toooo many more mental breakdowns or go completely insane.

And I mean hey, what's an education if you can't use it right? So I've been looking for summer student jobs to I can learn about the industry. Last summer I got one of those jobs. Hated it. Worst job of my life. I'm still hoping that experience wasn't representative of the entire industry, but we'll see. So I'm 4yrs done my 6yrs of undergrad, I've racked up an almost unimaginable amount of student debt, and I'm sitting in my bed wrapped in a blanket thinking I should have gone into psychology. I wanna help people. Everything I do is so cold. So calculated. I wanna exist where feelings are more than something to be smothered and exterminated. But hey. I can't stop now. So I'm gonna finish it all off. The great thing about EP is that the variation of jobs for this degree could be anything from Pixar animation studios to a technician at Nasa or JPL or SpaceX to Uranium mining. So my options are still open, I just gotta carve myself out a path. Nowhere to go but forward, right? And I have a full 180 degrees of forward to choose from! :)

So that's my story. Sorry for the length, but hey, you asked. Basically my advice is this:

Follow your gut. Find what feels right.

Keep your options as open as possible, but don't be afraid to dive deep into something.

Changing your mind is 100% OKAY. So many people take time off from school to figure themselves out. And maybe technical school is a better fit for you if working with your hands is your thing??

You will be scared. Life is like that. But never make a decision out of fear. Never choose not to do something because of how you fear it may turn out. Decide based on what good could happen from each of your options.

Work hard, play hard. Join clubs, join groups, meet people. Your classes are only half of school. What you learn out of fun will stick with you way longer and be so much more helpful.

Finally, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. You can't pour from an empty cup. After you graduate no one will care about your grades. A degree is a degree. And you can't work if you are drained. Your mind and body is a machine. It needs fuel, it need maintenance, and it needs appropriate rest. Keep yourself running well, and your life will become so much easier.

[sleepyverstappens]

Let me share this whole new world with you

Title: Let me share this whole new world with you

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

Rating: Gen/PG

Word Count chapter 1: 1399

Tags: Oliver Verstappen-Ricciardo, Original Child Character, 5+1

Summary: Twenty years he’d been in this circus, twenty years of his life driving cars at breakneck speeds, hopping from one plane to another, checking off countries all over the world but seeing almost nothing of them. He’d loved it with all his heart, racing was in his blood and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to not spend more than half the year in a race car or simulator, but he was also looking forward to it. To retiring and getting to spend all of his time with his two brilliant children and his husband.

Or Max and Dan sharing their life in the paddock with their son Oliver through the years. Follows them from 2021 to 2034.

A/N: Okay so I've been working on this one for quite a bit now. There's 6 chapters in total and rather than getting the +1 part at the end, you get it as the first part. Sorry if that's confusing, but it was either that or it was in reverse order from Oliver at his oldest to youngest. I thought this way worked slightly better.

It's not really relevant for this part yet, but Max talks Dutch with Oliver when he’s younger/alone with him. Apart from a few Dutch sentences/words, that should be clear enough through context, but will also be translated in the end notes, most of it is written in English but in italics to indicate that it’s spoken in Dutch. In this one the same rules apply for when Max is talking to his mother.

Read on AO3

+1) Spielberg, Austria 2021

“I don’t wanna leave him,” Max whispered, his eyes not straying away from the small bundle laying in the crib. Oliver was only four days old and all Max wanted to do was stare at him, but of course their little son would enter the world in the middle of a double header on the Formula One calendar. They’d only just landed back in Nice after the race in France when they’d received the call from Madeline’s sister to tell them their surrogate had gone into labour.

After a mad dash from the Nice airport to the Princess Grace hospital they’d arrived on the maternity ward in just over an hour. The wait after that hadn’t been all that long compared to some of the horror stories they’d read online, and after five hours of waiting they’d finally heard his cries at ten past three in the morning. They had reluctantly left the hospital when the first rays of sun had started to filter through from underneath the curtains to try and get a few precious hours of sleep while they still could, but they’d been back at the hospital as soon as they woke up again. Luckily with everything going well during the birth both Madeline and Oliver had been allowed to leave Monday evening.

They’d spend the last three days in their own little bubble of broken sleep, dirty nappies, and most importantly cuddles with their newborn son, but now they had to leave him. They’d managed to get out of their press duties today, a few precious extra hours with Oliver, but now they really had to go and catch their flight to Austria.

“I know, me neither. I mean look at him,” Dan whispered back, his arms wrapped around Max’s waist, chin hooked over his shoulder as he couldn’t draw his eyes away from Oli either. The boy’s face scrunched up a little and both of them held their breath, not wanting their son to wake up and cry, but all he did was wriggle his arms a little in the blanket swaddled around him, his face relaxing again into a pout that was all Max. “But he’s in the capable hands of gramma Sophie and auntie Vic.”

“I know, I know, still sucks. I mean racing is normally what I love the most in life, but with him here now things have definitely changed.”

“I wasn’t on top of your list before?”

“Course not, racing is where I go when I can’t stand you. My one true love,” Max chuckled.  

---

They had eventually managed to drag themselves away from the nursery and onto the plane that dropped them off in Spielberg not even 2 hours later. They somehow managed to sneak up to their hotel room unnoticed by anyone from their teams. The teams had finally stopped booking them seperate rooms this season, a baby on the way and a marriage certificate finally really convincing them that they were for real.

They don’t get off as easily the next morning, Vicky and Aurélie knocking on their door way too early. They pretend it’s to get them to breakfast in time, but they both know that while it sometimes must feel like they’re their babysitters they still know very well how to get down to breakfast on their own. They manage to keep themselves from asking for a little while, but as soon as they sit down at their table they crack, asking them for pictures of Oliver.

Max sighed, but can’t stop a smile from appearing on his face as he presses his thumb onto his phone, unlocking it and bringing up the last photo he’d taken of Oliver yesterday. The girls aww loudly as soon as they get their hands on the phone, drawing the attention from the people around them trying to have a quiet breakfast. The girls busy with gushing over all the pictures of Oliver they’d managed to take in just four days, they can finally dig into their breakfast.

The boys at the garage are a little better at hiding their curiosity, but as soon as Lee catches sight of him and asks for pictures they’re all on him. They coo at the picture of him asleep on the sofa with Oli on his chest and then laugh their heads of at the picture of Daniel trying to change a very poopy diaper.

It’s when GP pulls him aside a few minutes before the first practice session and softly tells him that fatherhood suits him that he almost loses it, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as he takes in the words of his race engineer. The man who’s been like a father to him ever since he joined this circus, even more so when his so-called-dad rejected him after he came out. His voice cracks when he thanks him, the squeeze of Gianpiero’s hand on his shoulder making him flee away to the safety of the cockpit of his car, helmet hiding where a few tears have managed to spill from his eyes.  

---

He breathes in a sigh of relief as he hears the click of the door lock, the smell of home filling his nostrils as he pushes the door open. The apartment is quiet as he rolls his carry on suitcase inside, Dan shuffling in behind him, both of them bone tired from the race weekend. A few more steps forward and he’s granted by the most adorable sight, his mum is sat in the corner of their sofa, Oliver lying on her chest, both of them asleep as the TV casts coloured streaks over them.

“Mama,” he whispered softly, his hand brushing over the hand that’s securely resting on Oliver’s back.

“Oh hé mijn lief,” she mumbled softly as she blinked her eyes back open, a smile curling on her lips as they find her son’s. Her other hand comes up to caress his cheek before she looks down at the infant resting on her chest, three generations of the same blood on this sofa, grandmother, father and son. “I remember the day you were in my arms like this like it was yesterday. Gosh Max that little pout is all you isn’t it.”

He’s heard those same words all weekend, but hearing his mum say them makes warmth radiate inside of him, a soft little smile all the answer he can give her. His mother holding Oliver is adorable, but his hands are starting to itch, wanting to feel his little boy in his arms again. And it must be written all over his face, because before he even asks his mum is already sitting up, her hand cradling Oliver’s little head as she gently lift him into Max’s arms.

“There you go, papa,” she smiled, brushing her fingers over Oliver’s cheek and then his own. And it’s only been just over 3 days, but he’s missed him so much. The weight in his arms and the sweet baby smell that fills his nose as he presses his lips against his forehead. Oli starts to squirm a little then, starting to wake up from being moved around but Max just shushes him softly as he lifts him up against his chest and rubs his hand down his back. With the other hand nestled over his tiny head, fingertips brushing against the soft dusting of white blond hair there, he buries his face in the crook of his son’s shoulder. Eyes closed he rocks side to side gently and just takes everything in.

He didn’t know he could love someone so much. He had been so worried all of those nine long months they had waited for him, but as soon as he’d held Oliver in his arms all those worries had melted away. His son had melted his heart the moment he’d blinked open his eyes at him and he didn’t think it would ever really solidify again so long as he was alive.

He felt the sofa shift next to him and slowly blinked his eyes open again to find his husband staring at them, a soft smile curling on his lips

“God Max, you two... you two are my whole world, you know that right?”    

He nodded, giving Daniel a watery smile as he pressed a kiss against his cheek. “I know baby, you’re mine too.”