#maybe I could but I want to graduate in January and I still have to start writing this thing

[servuscallidus]

I might actually find enough articles to write a systematic review instead of a tesi compilativa??

[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

[in-jail-out-soon7]

Happy New Year!

After the New Years' festival, you and Mikey talk about the future.

Manjiro Sano x GN!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, tooth rotting fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint & Reader mentions having a kid

A/N: I wish you all the best 2024! January is definitely gonna be a hard month for me mentally, but now that I have my writing to look forward to I know it's gonna be alright. Enjoy Lovelies❤

You lay down in the grass while Mikey kills the engine of his bike behind you. Flipping open your phone you gaze lazily at the bright light, trying to adjust to the screen at least enough to see the time.

1:04 A.M. January 1st, 2006.

You close your phone with a click and shove it into the top of your kimono. The New Year's festival had ended an hour ago. Everyone had gone home, Draken offering to take Emma home, so Mikey could drive around with you. Emma happily agreed.

Rubbing your eyes, Mikey slumps down in the grass next to you with a thud. You roll onto your side to face him.

He lays on his back staring at the star dotted sky. He rubs his hands together. "Shit."

Raising an eyebrow you prop your chin in your hand, pushing yourself off the ground with your elbow. "What's up?"

"It's cold." He pulls his own kimono up slightly to cover his exposed collarbone.

"Oh." You chuckle. "I told you. We should've went home."

Mikey shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't say anything else. You sigh and drop your elbow, folding your arms on the grass to rest you face against.

It's quiet for a few moments. Just you staring at Mikey as he stares at the sky. Picking at a blade of grass you finally break the silence.

"What do you think this years going to be like?" You ask.

Mikey hums and thinks for a moment. He shrugs. "Probably the same as every other year." He turns onto his side to face you. "There's not really a lot we can do right now. As kids. Maybe the year after us and the gang graduate, there'll be more things to do."

"Wait," you sit up quickly. Mikey gazes up at you, confused. "You were planning on finishing school?" You tease in an overdramatic and sarcastic tone.

Mikey rolls his eyes and pushes you back down by your shoulder. "Shut up, (Y/N)."

You chuckle. Even though he wasn't wrong, it still felt weird to refer to yourself as kids. After everything that's happened in the past year, all the fights and deaths, you forgot that you, Mikey and the whole gang were still just kids.

A small sigh falls from Mikey's lips as you settle back into place. As you two sit there in comfortable silence, you begin to feel your eyelids growing heavy.

Lacing your fingers through his you begin playing with his finger tips, tracing along each detail of his calloused hand. "How about in twelve years or something then?" You blurt out suddenly.

Your voice was drowsy and soft as you fought the urge to fall asleep. Mikey chuckled. "Don't know. Like jobs?"

You shrug.

"Maybe like a mechanic or a motorcycle racer- I don't know?" He says. "I think it's easier to think about other people's futures."

You raise a brow and glance at him through your lashes. "What do you mean?"

"Like Takemitchy and Hinata," he starts. "They're gonna get married, Kenny and Emma too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Kenny and Emma are gonna have a kid too, they're gonna name it Manjiro Jr." He says jokingly.

You scoff. "They are not." Surprisingly, Mikey doesn't argue back, letting the silence take over again. The wind howls and you shudder against the cold. A yawn escapes you before speaking up again. "Is that something you want?"

Mikey raises an eyebrow. "Is what?"

Suddenly nervous you drop his hand and your gaze to the grass. Picking at the earth you swallow, your face growing hot. "A kid."

He doesn't respond and you can't tell what he's thinking, too distracted by your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"Obviously not now- y'know!"

Mikey chuckles nervously and sucks in a breath. "I would hope not." He wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, pushing your face into his chest. "How about we just worry about this year?"

You nod against him. "Okay."

And then once again it was silent. The wind brushed against you two but you found warmth in each other's bodies. You take a long blink, your eyelids drooping lazily.

"Oh.. hey," you start before yawning. "We didn't have our New Year's kiss yet."

Mikey hums. At first it didn't seem like he was going to do or say anything, but before you could follow up your observation he brings a cold hand to your face, cupping your cheek before leaning in and placing his lips against yours. His lips were chapped from the cold and you could still taste whatever candy he had been eating at the festival. Somewhere in the distance fireworks boomed and crackled.

When you pull away you roll away and flop onto your back with a satisfied sigh. Allowing your eyes to flutter shut. You hear the movement of Mikey as he scoots closer to you.

"You can go to sleep," a hand brushes against your face and you shiver.

"I'll be here when you wake up."

[andavs]

Nope, still thinking about it.

Shannon comes back around Halloween and Eddie says they haven’t seen her in “almost two years”. The show timeline generally lines up with real life, so Eddie would’ve started at the 118 like early September? He’d been working there for about two months by then.

LAFD training is 22 weeks (or it was, apparently they shortened it a few years ago) which is like five months. Looks like there are academy classes starting in January and April, and April is the latest he could start to finish by September, and that’s basically graduating one day and starting work the next.

But April is a weird time to up and move a seven year old to a new school, just a couple months before the year ends. I don’t know if he would’ve moved in January for Chris to start at the new semester, but he probably moved prior to April to get him enrolled and get their new place somewhat set up before he started at the academy. (Unless they lived with Isabel at first, which I love the idea of, actually.)

All that right there is almost a year. So that leaves about a year before he moved to LA where he was back in El Paso alone after Shannon left.

Adding a cut because this got long.

Whether his parents helped him out financially for part of it or not, that’s just one year they gave him to not only adjust to suddenly being a single parent, but to try to cobble together the equivalent of his military salary with a high school diploma, alone. While also readjusting to civilian life and employment. And probably still recovering physically from getting shot three times. And losing the insurance he had through the army that was covering Chris. With untreated PTSD to cap it off.

And who knows what Shannon was doing in LA. It seems like her mom died at some point and she was too paralyzed to come home after (grieving, guilt, etc.), but I assume she had a job? If she inherited enough from her mom to be able to live on it for over a year, and she didn’t send any of it back home, that would be a serious dick move. But they were still legally married! I don’t know how it works when your spouse is in another state, cut off but also working, but I’m assuming that factors into things if Eddie tried to file for any kind of government programs or assistance.

That’s one year they gave him to navigate all of that alone before his parents tried to take Chris away.

Eddie was doing everything “right” before he got shot. He had a solid job, he was providing, they had two cars and a mortgage, he had insurance for Chris, Shannon could be a stay at home mom—she didn’t want to be but financially, she could be. As far as we know, that was all on Eddie. It seemed like Helena helped with Chris (even when Shannon didn’t want it) but it didn’t sound like his parents were contributing financially. Eddie was doing what he thought was his part and providing all of that.

And then he got shot. He got discharged from the military. Shannon left. And the five years it took to build all of that fell apart within a few months.

And instead of helping him get back on his feet by giving him a minute to breathe and get his bearings, his parents watched him struggle for a year and then tried to take his son.

It sounded like Helena was caring for Chris quite a bit while Eddie was working, but Ramon was a petroleum engineer at the same company for forty years. He made enough to raise three kids on one salary and send (presumably) all three to Catholic school. He was still working well after Eddie moved to LA. They couldn’t have helped him out financially during that year so he could actually spend time raising his own son? Maybe only work two jobs while he tried to figure everything out?

Nope. “Don’t drag him down with you,” Helena said, while she watched Eddie drown, only caring that Chris was safe with her.

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Four

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Almost-car accident? Talk of getting smushed by a car.

Notes: Finally, a little something-something! I’m trying to post on the weekends to have some sort of schedule, but I have zero impulse control… so here it is a day early!

Word Count: 2146

Series Masterlist

• January 25th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Jasper

Not only am I lucky enough to spend lunch with Y/n, but some godly force must be watching out for me in that today’s history assignment allowed me to team up with her and learn more about her.

Her energy is absolutely fascinating and it almost worries me that I’m internally compelled to want to spend even more time in her presence. Two days and I’m already a goner, Emmett is going to have a field day interrogating me tonight.

Which leads me to now, after completing our history assignment with only a few minutes to spare, I’m escorting her to her car in an effort to prolong this addiction to her attention.

“Where are you from?” I ask, curious to know anything about her.

“Texas. Well, Dallas more specifically.” She’s still watching the ground as we walk, nervousness pouring from her.

“Why Forks? You couldn’t of picked a more completely opposite environment.” I miss my home state, and if it weren’t for my adversion to the sun - I would return.

“My parents divorced.” She continues before I could apologize for the intrusive question, “Happily divorced and I protested the whole ‘stay together until she graduates’ bullshit.” Fingers gesturing around the air quotations.

She trails off after that, circling back to our history assignment that no doubt has her still worked up. The Civil War, I cringe internally at today's topic since it’s a sore one for myself - having lived through it and fought in it.

“All I’m saying is, maybe history class should be more focused on the lessons learned, than just the events themselves.” She states rather passionately while inserting the key into the lock on the driver’s door of her car.

“To recognize and avoid in the future.” I respond, leaning my back against the rear of the small vehicle as I scan the wet parking lot packed with kids.

“Exactly!” She pops her head up, an excited smile in place as she garners my gaze again.

But just over her shoulder my eyes flick up to catch the sight of a blue van headed our direction a little too quickly for such a busy spot. A car horn blaring has her turning in its direction and the gasp I hear across the parking lot from Alice sends me into action. I grab Y/n by the waist and spin her against her car, so that my back might take the brunt of the hit, but it never comes as the rear of the van just barely slides past us. I relax the grip I have on her and tear my eyes from hers as I spin my head in the direction of the vehicle, ready to yell at the driver for being so reckless. The words die in my throat as I see where it’s headed - straight for Isabella Swan.

“Bella!” Y/n screams, but it’s lost in the screech of tires and the headphones in her ears that are keeping the outside world out.

Just as I’m about to damn us all to save another girl from this idiot driver, Edward flashes past to stop the van from crushing the Sheriff’s daughter.

“Fuck.” I whisper, glancing back to where my other adopted siblings are standing next to their own vehicles - faces unreadable, but emotions blaring alarm.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please be safe getting home?” I ask her urgently as I peel my fingers from where they want to stay gripping her, safe and close to me.

“But Jas-“ she starts, a little shell shocked at my quick action of saving her and the close call with her friend.

A whistle from Emmett interrupts her before she can interrogate me, so I flash her an apologetic smile before jogging at a normal human pace to the familiar silver Jeep. My hands flex in my lap the entire tense ride home, warm and tingly from when I gripped Y/n to protect her fragile little human body.

If we weren’t vampires already, this family meeting about to take place would definitely give Carlisle a full head of gray hair.

• January 26th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Hey, mind catching me up on what that was yesterday?” I immediately bombard Jasper as I sit across from him at what I’ve mentally deemed ‘our table’ at lunch.

He glances up from his sketchbook with a look that says he wasn’t prepared for my blunt line of questioning.

“The saving you from certain death part, or?” He leaves open ended for me to clarify.

“The part where Bella was alone next to her truck, but your brother teleported to her side AND somehow the van skidded to a stop right before turning them both into pancakes?” I’m not pulling my punches with my queries, after having spent last night stewing over what I had seen.

“He wasn’t that far from her when I moved you out of the way, I must’ve distracted you enough that you didn’t see him walking to her after he got out of class. Plus, the van wasn’t going that fast, maybe when it hit the back of her truck the tires got traction and he could brake properly.” He answers, turning his gaze back to his sketch and resuming his work.

I don’t really buy it, but I mull over my recount of yesterday afternoon as I pull my lunch from my bag. Was I so focused on Jasper the moment he put his hands on me? Was I so soda-strawed in on Bella being in the way of the van that I missed Edward?

No, something isn’t adding up. I know that van was hauling ass in the parking lot, I was going to yell as much at the idiot driving before I saw it headed for Bella. But I can also tell I won’t be getting the answers I want from Jasper. I can tell from the rigidity of his spine that he’s worried I’ll ask more questions. I mean, his recount of the accident isn’t out-landish, but I know what I saw!

I need to talk to Bella.

“Yeah I guess that makes sense.” I acquiesce. I see him deflate a little with relief as I pick at my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Thank you for saving me, by the way.” I add nervously, a little heat working it’s way onto my cheeks.

Jasper glances up to my face and with a small smile, “Anytime Y/l/n, anytime.”

• January 27th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Bella!” I yell down the hallway, catching her as she slams her locker shut. I jog over to her as she turns towards the exit, everyone that has Mr. Banner for Biology is going on a field trip today.

“Hey Y/n, what’s up?” She questions, seeing the look on my face.

“Tuesday, parking lot, what the hell happened?” I jump right into it.

“Tyler must’ve lost traction-“

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. Edward was nowhere near you.” Cutting off her redirection. “Jasper won’t budge, he insists I was distracted and didn’t see his brother before the accident.”

Bella glances around the hallway and decides to pull me into the empty female bathroom for some privacy.

“Edward is avoiding me, I was asking him the same questions when I was at the hospital and he refused to answer.” She answers nervously.

“It’s weird, right? I mean, one second I’m unlocking the door to my car, and the next Jasper spins me around to protect my body with his. And then I see Edward jump over the tailgate of your truck when I thought Tyler’s van was going to end you.” I’m just rambling the thoughts that have been pinging around the last two days.

I can see her hesitate, “You can talk to me, you know? I kinda don’t have any friends besides you, I mean - if you want to be friends?” I tack on the last part, worried I’d over stepped.

“Yeah no, of course - I um, I could use a friend to vent to.” Bella glances down at her shoes, picking at the sleeves of her sweater as the both of us exit the bathroom. “He’s coming on today’s class trip, I’ll talk to him then and see what I can find out.”

“Perfect, want to sit with me on the bus?” I ask, walking out of the building for the student parking lot where the buses are waiting.

“As if I’d risk getting stuck sitting with Mike Newton, absolutely.” She jokes back. “I’m going to grab my book from my truck, I’ll be there in a sec - save us a seat!” She yells as she jogs to her vehicle across the parking lot.

As I board the first bus I can hear Mr Banner yell at everyone loitering in the parking lot, “Yo yo yo, hey guys c’mon! We gotta go, we gotta go! Green is what? Good, let’s go!”

A few moments later Bella joins me in our claimed seat, book in hand looking a little frazzled. I see Mike pass us with a forlorn expression on his face, “Oh God, what happened?” I ask.

“He asked me to prom and I told him to ask Jessica, please don’t make me talk about it.” She answers with what I assume is a shiver of discomfort.

I want to laugh, but I just grin instead. “Your not-so-secret admirer fumble is safe with me, Bells.” I knock my shoulder into hers to tease her a little as I crack open my own book I brought for the bus ride.

• Community College Greenhouse •

Reader

Walking alone in line through the greenhouse, my hands drift over the different sprouting vegetables. Behind me I can hear Mr. Banner giving a spiel on “compost tea” and how its derived from table scraps and other organic waste. Every now and then my fingers float over the soft petals of flowers placed sporadically through the hundreds of food-producing plants; earlier it was explained that they encourage pollinators to visit.

Even though I’m a smidge lonely since Bella is hanging back with Edward, I’m glad to be surrounded by greenery instead of stuck in a stuffy classroom.

Just as Tyler Crowley pushes past with a clear mug of what looks like poop/dirt water, I spot Alice just ahead standing to the side of the isle with Jasper to allow students to flow by. When I get within arms reach, Alice loops her elbow through mine, almost like she could sense my loneliness.

“So,” she drags out the word cheerfully, “Enjoying the plants? Fresh air? Freedom from school?”

“Oh absolutely,” I glance over my shoulder at Jasper following behind us silently. “I’m surprised you’re not off in a corner doodling flowers, Hale.” I catch him duck his head and chuckle under his breath as Alice watches our interaction, surprised.

“And isolate myself away from your commentary? Never, Y/l/n.”

“Oh, Emmett’s opinions on your drawings are too much, but mine aren’t?” I smile as I turn to look at new plants as we pass them in our slow walk through the final greenhouse.

“My brother isn’t nearly as interesting.” His response catches me off guard and if it weren’t for Alice’s grip on my arm I would’ve stumbled on the wet concrete.

“As I live and breathe, Jasper Hale flirting-“ but Alice doesn’t finish her sentence due to Jasper snaking out a pinch to her ribs, her flinch forcing our hold to separate. Before I could chide Alice for teasing her brother for just being nice, Edward storms up to the three of us.

“Ready to leave?” He glances between his siblings, pointedly ignoring me so that I wouldn’t feel the obligation to join them.

“Edward-“ Alice says disapprovingly, but he pushes past us without waiting for an answer. She looks at me apologetically before skipping after him.

“Sorry about my brother, he’s insufferable when he’s in a mood.” Jasper offers as explanation as we watch the two of them exit the greenhouse.

“I get the feeling he’s always in a ‘mood’.” My fingers emphasize the last word with air quotations and it draws another chuckle from the gorgeous boy at my side.

“Touché.” He says with a grin. “I better catch up before they ditch me, see ya around darlin’.” He weaves his way through the crowded isle and out of sight before the heat settles in my cheeks.

I manage to file outside and towards the buses with the rest of my class after I gather my wits. I spot Bella already in our shared bus seat with a sad expression. “Wanna talk about it?” I ask as I sit.

“Not right now.” She answers, turning to look out of the window.

Next

[f1bordeaux]

The String That Binds Us. (Prologue) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood best friend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you together since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings: none Pairings: Lando Norris x Reader, Charles Leclerc x Reader Word Count: 769 Poetry style | Story style A/n: I have returned with yet another series >:) this has been rolling around in my mind and yes its a super simple, done before, run down prompt but I promise to make it worth wild! I feel as though my writing has improved since my last series(which i'm gonna go rewrite) so please enjoy! Ill update as quickly as possible. This is just the prologue so look out for chapter 1 soon, and let me know if you all would be interested in me posting this on Wattpad for easier reading! Much love! Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

prologue; y/n.

There was simply no way, not in this world with all of its coincidences and twists of fate, that things did not happen for a reason. From the minute you’re born until the day you die, there is a reason for everything. An invisible string runs through each and every one of your actions, no matter how little or grand they may be. You were sure of it. There were so many instances you could think of. When you failed that math test and got put back into a different class-the one where you met your first boyfriend who you no longer speak of. When you visited the beach one Summer all the way across the ocean in the United States, and met a girl from your hometown who ended up becoming your life long friend you attended university with. And perhaps the most vital one, when you grew up next door to a boy, only a year older than you, who possessed a love for cars and all things involving them. He would sculpt your life into one of his own, beginning from only the age of three. The two of you would form a shared love, a shared passion, for one sport. However, you found more interest in the mechanical side of things while he preferred to take the wheel. Still, you often wonder how your life would have played out, what you would have done, where you would have gone, who you would have become without him. What would have happened to you if he didn’t live next door? You could never even picture it. Especially now, fresh from university with a degree in automotive engineering hanging on your wall. But the craziest connection of them all? Getting an offer to work in the same sport as your neighbor-no, your childhood best friend. You just couldn’t believe it.

“Y/n you’re joking.” Sophia said on the afternoon the offer popped up in your inbox. She sat on the beanbag chair you used to have in your dorm. You were laying down in bed, lazily scrolling through Twitter before deciding to check your inbox. Now, you were sitting up straight, hand cupping your mouth as you read the email. “Let me see!”

You spun the laptop around, watching her eyes dart across the screen. “It’s not real, there is no way.”

But it was. The email would turn into a phone call, the phone call would turn into a headquarters visit, the visit would turn into a contract. Soon, only a few months after your January graduation, you would be in the Formula 1 paddock, clad in red, tending to the Ferrari livery.

You called Lando only a few weeks before the season started. The two of you hadn’t spoken in a while.

“Hello?”

“Lando, hey.” You scratched the back of your neck. How would he take it? Would he even care at all? Why were you calling with how things ended between the two of you?

There was a second of silence, although it felt like minutes. “Y/n, it’s been a minute. I heard you graduated. Congrats.”

“Oh? Who told you?”

“Mom. You know she's still best friends with yours.”

“Right,” You sighed. He didn’t like your Instagram post that compiled all your grad-photos. Of course he’d only heard it involuntarily. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He responded. “Just preparing for the season, you know?”

“That's actually what I was calling about,” Your heart was pounding. You were so excited to tell him, to let him know that not only did he make it into his dream field, but so did you. “I got a job.”

“Cool. Where at?”

“Ferrari.”

The silence that hung over the line only a little while ago returned. “Like at a shop somewhere in the UK?”

Not exactly the celebration you were hoping for. “No, uh, in F1. I’ll be in the paddock working on either Leclerc’s or Sainz’s car.”

“Oh.” He sniffled. “How’d you manage a job like that straight out of uni?”

“I applied. Didn’t think I would get it but here we are.”

“Well I guess I’ll see you around then.”

And that was it, your big call, your big announcement, all concluded with a ‘see you around’ like it was a conversation to be had in a school yard. You were hurt, your childhood best friend chalking your achievements up to something not worth being impressed about, but you didn’t have time to think about it. You had a job to do and damnit, you were sure you’d be doing it the best.

[marshallsgirl]

Don't leave part 2

Pairing: Eminem x Fem¡Reader

Warnings: 🔞 MATURE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Recommended song: The One - Kodaline

Author's note: I'm working on my graduation final project, that's why I haven't been so active lately. I wrote this and I don't know how I feel about it.  I may delete it later or idk. Hope you all enjoy it. I love you guys so much! Sending all of you a warm hug🫂🤍

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January 14th, 2006

It's pretty late at night. I'm watching the news when once again I have to run to the bathroom. I'm throwing up again. I'm feeling sick. I can't even explain why I felt like doing this but...I'm taking a pregnancy test. I bought one earlier this morning but I couldn't do it. I was too scared. But I'm doing it now. I can't be pregnant. I mean...it would be nice to be...No, I am not pregnant. That thing is going to be negative!

The news reporter started to talk. Maybe it got my attention cause they played a song in the background. An Eminem's song.

"Today January 14th at 5pm Eminem and Kim got married for the second time around their fifteen anniversary. Kim said to People Magazine: 'Marshall wanted to do it because it was our fifteenth year together from our original day we started going out'. They repeated their vows from their first marriage..."

As the reporter is talking I'm looking down at my pregnancy test and I found the word "pregnant". And I started to cry. I've been waiting a long time for this moment but it isn't how I imagined it. I just found out that I'm pregnant and that my baby's daddy is married again. Even knowing this I feel the need to call Marshall. But I can't do that. He's probably on his honeymoon right now. He is probably spending such a great time being a family again. I know he did all of this for Hailie's happiness. I know he is trying hard to put his family back together. I can't call him.

So I called Proof.

"Oh, you saw the news, didn't you?"

"No...I mean yes, but I'm not calling about that" I said trying to control my tears.

"Are u okay? What happen?" I could tell he was concerned.

"Well...I kinda need an advice, man"

"Why? What did you do?"

"Nothing...I just..."

"Hey, y/n you can talk to me. We're good friends, aren't we? I don't care what happened between you and Marshall. You and I, girl. We can still be friends"

That made me lost control of my tears.

" Yo, y/n what happen?"

"Man, I'm pregnant" I confess. "Proof, I don't know what to do. I just found out that I am and I saw the fuckin' news..."

"Wait what that...you pregnant? Is it..." he didn't finish the question

"Yes, of course it's Marshall's"

"Shit...you got to tell him, y/n"

I knew he would say that, but I was hoping to be wrong.

"No, I can't do that to him"

"You know him, y/n. If you don't tell him he is gonna hate you"

"I know he deserves to know but he just got married and I know he wants to be happy with his family"

"So? I mean, he can be happy with them and at the same time he can take care of your baby, his baby. I know he'll want to be a responsable dad. You have to tell him"

"Proof, please I just can't...I'm too scared"

"Y/n, I want you to hang off the phone and call Marshall right now"

I needed time. Maybe tomorrow I'll be more brave. But saying this to Proof won't work.

"Listen, I'm going to do a blood test tomorrow just to be extra sure. Okay? If it is positive I'll call him right away"

"If you don't call him by tomorrow afternoon, I'll do it"

"Please, don't. I promise you, I'll call him".

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The blood test confirmed that I'm pregnant. But when I tried to contact Marshall he didn't answered his phone. So, I called Proof and he planned a reunion for us at Marshall's studio.

"Y/n?" he said when he saw me. "Are u looking for Proof? He'll be here soon, actually I'm waiting for him" he added.

"He's not coming. It's me who you are waiting for. I called you but you didn't answerd so..."

"I'm married" he said rapidly

"I know, Marshall. I just need to tell you something important"

"Go on then. I need to go back to my family, you know" it was something weird in the way he said that, like it was something he had to say it to believe it. I can explain it, I just know him too much. But I didn't ask him about it. So, I extended my hand to him. Letting him know that he needed to grab the paper (the blood pregnancy test) that was on my hand. He read it and then looked at me shocked.

"Is this some kinda joke?" he asked. "Why are u doin' this?"

"I am pregnant, Marshall. And listen I just thought you deserved to know. Even Proof told me that I should tell you 'cause if I didn't you'll hate me forever". I started to say. "I know you think I'm doin' this 'cause I want us to be back together but I promise you I'm not. I would never do something like this to make you leave your family".

"You really are pregnant...How long? How are you feeling?"

Now I could tell he was concerned.

" I don't know how many weeks I am. I just found out that I am pregnant, so I have no idea. And I've been feeling sick"

"Let's take you to the doctors then"

So we made a prenatal appointment.

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"The baby is 7 week and 1 day!" said the doctor.

I looked at Marshall's face. It looked like he was counting.

"So, you got pregnant on november 2005..." said Marshall as we both realized that my pregnancy started on the day he left me.

"Which means the due date is September 1st" the doctor told us.

"Oh, a virgo baby!" I said.

"Is it just one or there is more than one?" Marshall asked. I could tell he was really curious.

"I can answer that next week. The next appointment will be an ultrasound appointment, okay?"

I saw Marshall's face lighting up.

"Oh my! Our first ultrasound appointment?" I couldn't wait for that. That's exciting! I'll get to see my baby for the first time.

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In the car on the way back to y/n's home.

"Did you tell Kim about me? I mean, about me being pregnant" I asked. I was really curious to know if she got a certain reaction. But "no" was the only answerd Marshall gave me.  "So, are u going to hide this from her?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now. Let's get you something to eat" he said.

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Time went by and Marshall finally told me that things were not good between Kim and him. He assure me that it had nothing to do with me or my pregnancy. Then he mentioned the word "divorce", but made it very clear that he wasn't doing it because of me.

"I'm really happy you are pregnant, y/n. But now it's not the time for me to be in a relationship" he said.

"Are you going to tell me what happened? It must had been something really serious. I mean, you got re-married and now just three month later you want a divorce"

"I trust you, but I really don't wanna talk about it. Can we talk about the baby?"

"What exactly you want to talk about?" I wonder

"Do you feel it's a boy or a girl?"

I really didn't know how to answer that. I've done all the things to predict the sex of the baby and it's pretty even. I mean, I got 50% girl and 50% boy. So, I have no idea.

"They'll call me soon to tell me my results on the last exams I did and they could tell me the sex you know"

"Are you going to surprise me?" he asked and then leave a kiss on my belly. We're both laying in bed. I was to tired to do the normal things I do like cook and clean. And Marshall volunteer to help me. I couldn't say no. For real, even if I say no he would probably throw me to bed and lock me in my room.

"Yeah, I'm going to surprise you. I don't know how yet but I'll do it".

"Okay, then I'mma go buy you something to eat. Any cravings?"

"Can you get me some donuts?"

"Yeah, I'll be back soon" he says and before he leaves he press his lips on my belly once again. "Love you" he added.

"The baby loves you too" I said.

"I love you, too y/n" he says letting me know that  he said it for both of us, the baby and me. He is driving me crazy. I don't understand him. And people say women are the complicated ones. He doesn't want to be in a relationship and that's why he is getting divorce. So, I think he comes to see me and do shit for me just because the baby but then he is telling me he love me?

"Hey! I said I love you, y/n" he was already by the bedroom door. I know he won't leave unless I say it back.

"Stop it! You are going to get me all horny and shit"

"You’re horny preggers, aren’t you?" he says walking towards the bed.

"I’m fat and horny. It’s disgusting."

" Nah, you could be 300 pounds I’d still do you".

Maybe it's because I'm hormonal but I'm touched and I start crying.

"You're so fuckin' romantic" I say

He sitting by the edge of the bed now. He is touching my belly. His touch is soft. I want to say that I love him. But, honestly I'm just to scared to do that.

"I feel it's a boy. And I can't wait to see the way you're with him. You're gonna be incredible"  he says "I love you, y/n" he assures me.

"I'm nervous..." I manage to say

"I'm nervous too"

"No, you are not!" I replied

"Y/n, I'm not divorce yet... The truth is I'm just waiting for that to be done so I can...so that we can try to do this right. You're my home and I'm sorry it took me a lot of shit to finally understand that. You've always been there for me. I've always came back to you, every fuckin' time. I was so stupid. I'm truly sorry. I promise you I'll never ever hurt you again. I won't leave you. I promise for as long as we're together, to never, ever put you through anything like that again."

"Marshall..."

"Wait, I know it's going to be difficult almost impossible for you to forgive me, but please try. Please, y/n. 'Cause I miss you a lot and I love you even more. You don't have to say it back, though. You don't have to say nothing at all right now. I completly get it". when he finished he got up and left the room really quick. He didn't give me time to express myself.

"I love you, Marshall" I said to the nothingness.

A moment later my phone starts to ring. It's my doctor. She started to tell me about my result and how everything was normal and that I need more vitamin C and then she said:

" This also tell us the sex of the baby. Would you like to know?"

"Yes!"

"Would you like me to tell you over the phone or..."

"Over the phone it's okay" I didn't even let her finish her question. I was to excited!

"Over the phone it's okay?"

"Yes"

"Okay, let me open it up...Alright it looks like you are having a baby boy!"

Omfg! I'm crying, now. Marshall was right! Oh, man I'm having a boy!

"Omg, thank you!" I manage to say

"Congratulations!" said my doctor before ending the phone call.

I couldn't wait to tell Marshall. I needed to surprise him. So, I figurate out a way to do so. I grab a white mug, his favorite mug actually (and it's not his but mine). But okay, it's his favorite. And I wrote inside at the buttom of it: "it's a boy". Then I prepared him a mixed berry smoothie.

He came back just in time.

"Here, try this" I said giving him the mug.

"What are you doing out of bed? Why are you holding my mug? What is this?"

"Marshall, just drink it! It's a mixed berry smoothie and...it has the sex of our baby!"

And just as I finished to say that he started to drink it. He finished in seconds! And as soon as he read what was inside, he ran to put the mug on the table and then ran back to hug me and lift me in his arms.

"Marshall, we're having a boy!" I got my arms around his neck. Enjoying that moment. I was crying but all happy tears.

"Yes! Oh my God, what the fuck! Life is crazy!" He kept saying this words. He was really happy too.

"God is so beautiful!"

"I told you! I knew it was a boy! I fuckin' told you!" He said as he put me down.

"Holy shit, I know that's crazy!"

He knelt in front of me and kissed my belly and then said:

"I knew you were in there the whole time. I love you, son"

[bomberqueen17]

*vibrating slightly in place*

So ok. When I was in kindergarten, my classroom was arranged so that four desks were linked together, so we were in little groups. I used to regularly vibrate my desk and the three it was attached to, with three other children in them, across several feet of floor space, until the linked desks ran into the teacher's desk, which was larger and did not move with the force of my vibrations. I was a good student, but hard to control, and markedly uneven in my ability to like. Do anything. "Well," my mom said once, upon beholding my entire spectrum of a report card, "we'd just hate to be bored."

When I graduated with my bachelor's degree, seventeen years later, my mom said "I never thought you could do it," and when I, shocked, said "what?" she said "well what with your ADHD and all," and I said "my what?" and she said "well, i never wanted to shake your confidence, and I thought once they put a label on you it'd be over, but you super have like, turbo ADHD. Why, what do you think your deal is?" She said it nicely and not in those words at all, but it was the first time I'd ever really realized that I wasn't just mildly eccentric, I did seem to actually have something wrong with me.

I've been trying to get a diagnosis ever since. I've never been able to. I had no health insurance at all for a huge chunk of my twenties, which put a damper on things. One doctor told me "you'd know if you had that" and when I was like "I... do" she was like "no i mean. you'd already be being treated." Which shows a wild and totally unwarranted optimism in our medical system, but she was a resident. The doctor overseeing her care of me suggested I try taking fish oil capsules. To "rebuild my brain tissue".

I did. It didn't help. I still buy them but mostly I use them now to get my cat to take pills.

Eventually in my 30s my doctors started sort of believing me maybe, or at least realizing they couldn't really brush me off (I have gotten... less easily-cowed as I've aged) but they were all like "oh, I can't evaluate that. You'll have to research and find a place that can do a neuropsych eval for you. Insurance doesn't cover those. So good luck. Have some antidepressants in the meantime."

I slid into my 40s, still undiagnosed. I read as many self-help books on the topic as I could find, did all the checklists I found. They all said "girl you super have like turbo ADHD." I tried meditation. I tried divination. I tried bullet journaling, which was hilarious. I tried yoga.

I actually damaged myself doing yoga and am banned from yoga, but at least I'm in physical therapy now. (Word to the wise: if you have really really flexible hip joints, don't fucking do yoga. "Usually I don't have to tell people not to get into that position," said my bemused physical therapist. "Oh," I said, blissfully bepretzeled. "It feels super good." "Mm," she said, "you've torn your labrum. Stop doing that." Now I do really, really boring stretches that don't feel nearly as good, but I also can walk without limping, so. Like. We take the good with the bad I guess.)

Anyway. My PCP in January was like "wait you didn't follow my super vague directions to go see 'the guys downstairs' and see if they can squeeze you into their eleven-month waiting period to get an evaluation that i cannot mention without saying it's several thousand dollars and your insurance surely won't cover it? you must not want this diagnosis very badly!" (At no point has anyone ever given me a phone number for 'the guys downstairs'. I still don't know what she meant by any of those directions. This PCP and I technically speak the same language but I've never understood a single thing she has told me and I don't think she understands a word I say in return, everything I tell her seems to be such a shock to her. You blame antidepressants for your weight gain? I've never heard of that. Ma'am please look up what the incredibly common side effects of antidepressants are.)

I called around but noplace both took my insurance and was accepting new patients. Finally I gave up. Then my Dude went on our insurance company's website and took over the search. He found that there's some kind of concierge service thing, which the insurance company normally charges $450/mo for but our plan includes it, because it's pretty well-hidden on the website and most people aren't ever going to find it anyway. So he said, you know what, I am going to instigate a query on this.

They took two weeks but eventually came back with a list of 13 places, most of them not remotely local. Ten of them were red X's, disqualified for varying reasons-- one because the phone number didn't work, another because it's a seven-hour drive away and doesn't do telehealth. One was in New Jersey. None of them were the local places I had already called.

Two of them were valid, but the insurance wouldn't cover the evaluation for various reasons.

One of them was fully covered, the insurance company said. So I went there.

Their website said "no you're not we can't see you". But Dude was like, call them on the phone. Surely, surely, the concierge service couldn't have lied??? Bet, I said, and called them and left a message, and said to him, if they call me back I will eat a hat.

But they did. They called me back. "Our insurance checker widget is down," they said. "But we do take your insurance! We can see you. We just don't know how much it will cost."

Ominous.

But. They could see me later in the week, via a telehealth appointment.

So I signed up.

The appointment was this morning. I turned up. Their insurance checker thingy still wasn't working so they couldn't be sure how much the appointment would cost me. I at this point don't care, and gave them my HSA credit card, and said do what you will.

I waited 45 minutes and then texted the number they'd texted me from with the confirmation, and a moment later the guy showed up. "Whoops," he said, "that system isn't working quite right either!"

He talked to me for like. Three minutes, and was like "yeah that sounds. Pretty textbook. I'm going to prescribe you stimulants." He then proceeded to take a very basic medical history, and I recognized all the questions because I have researched stimulant medication for ADHD so much. And he was like "We're going to start with Adderall, check at your pharmacy in like an hour." And then he gave me extremely useful and detailed instructions on how to take it, when to take it, what side effects to worry about, what to expect, what to note down in case it might mean a problem, and how to be safe about it. (He asked me three times if I'd ever been suicidal, and it had also been in the online pre-screening. I am aware that can be a rare but very serious side effect of stimulants!)

And then I went to Rite-Aid and I now have 16 pills in my possession, and i am going to wait until tomorrow morning to start taking them, and I am already scheduled for my follow-up in 15 days.

I have absolutely no idea how much any of that is going to cost, but for the record the pills were eleven dollars.

So. I don't know why the last decade of my life has been spent being told that a comprehensive and unattainably expensive neuropsychological evaluation was my only option. Maybe this place is a disreputable pill mill or whatever. But. I am going to get to try to medicate this disorder that has warped my entire life to this point, and I am going to try to see if I can't have some more control over my life, and if it doesn't work then at least I will know, instead of on my deathbed being like "i wonder if i'd ever tried amphetamines maybe I'd have been able to finish a project ever in my life, guess we'll never know".

Which was what I was starting to genuinely think was going to happen.

Literally though why can't a primary care doctor just refer you to a psychiatrist who can then decide whether you need an assessment or whether your condition is likely to respond well to a basic diagnosis?? I get needing the whole nine yards if you're not sure what's wrong with this kid and you don't want to give them the wrong thing-- like I know misdiagnosing a bipolar sufferer with depression can give you really bad outcomes, for example-- but-- I don't know? I don't know.

I just want to be able to start and finish projects. What I'd really love is to be able to make to-do lists meaningfully, as that is an ability I did used to have and now absolutely don't. I legit cannot make a to-do list in any meaningful or useful way.

So we'll see. I'm going to keep a journal and the real test of whether the pills work is to see whether I can actually keep the journal.

But I need to find some kind of edible hat, at some point, just to keep my word.

[hitlikehammers]

just the facts

rating: t ♥️ cw: Lady Applejack's enduring awesomeness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, steddie in their 20s, erica sinclair, steve and eddie stay local until the entire party is safely graduated, slice of life, softness, canon fact: erica coins term 'dumpster fire' for the ages, SCOOPS TROOP FOR LIFE 🍦🍨

for @steddielovemonth day fifteen: Love is Co-Parenting (@shares-a-vest)

still the boys who grow into the husbands in je ne regrette rien but let’s roll back to the early 90s ♥️

“So, Stanford?”

She raises a brow around the straw in her mouth when Steve speaks and god: she’s grown up so fucking much, but that look, when Eddie glances back to the table as he listens in to their conversation: that look’s the first time he encountered the formidable half-elf a fucking lifetime ago when he was an asshole and she schooled him from the start—he should have been better prepared for the emotional whirlwind to come, at least, from there; or if nothing else, more mindful of the foreshadowing.

And he thought himself some masterful storyteller, Jesus fuck: he was both cocky and naive.

“When I go to law school it’s gonna be on the east coast, so,” she slurps noisily, unbothered, around the ice in the glass; “cover both bases.”

“Take the country by storm,” Steve nods with that warm grin that melts liquid in Eddie’s chest, every time, every day, never stopping: “very you.”

“Can’t run until I’m 35 which,” Erica shrugs, but then she flips her hair and shoots that grin that holds all the fucking secrets: “America without Erica is a travesty,” she’s got her thumb and forefinger pinched as she emphasizes the syllables hard, then snorts so derisively she might as well be the originator of the term; maybe, like, in a past life or something.

“I could run right this minute and do better than what’s there now,” she rolls her eyes and snaps her wrist decisively before stating, y’know, the obvious:

“Just the facts.”

Eddie catches Steve’s lips curl down, brow furrow as he words something out and he’s so fucking gorgeous, he’s so goddamn precious, and Eddie’s heart just kinda flip-flops around to watch him like this, relaxed and soft and happy and proud and a little bit piqued by the innocuous, and they all worked damn hard to get here, but, like.

Here is incredible.

“He just got into office in January,” Steve points out, and Eddie grins as he gathers their orders and arranges on the tray for balance, loves how he wasn’t even worried for what his partner was mulling over with the crinkle in his brow, didn’t even pause to think it was something bad and that’s such a…a new normal and Eddie wants to leap into the air and whoop for the joy of it, but: kinda got his hands full.

Maybe later.

“Plenty of time to impress me, and fail to,” Erica’s scoffing in reply before she huffs: “considering the dumpster fires that preceded him.”

“The what fires?” Steve asks, eyes so big, so fucking pretty.

“I said what I said,” Erica leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and…it’s so comfortable. It’s so innocent, the whole scene, the three of them here, and Eddie loves this, he loves them, he’s just…

It’s a life he never imagined, y’know? It’s a reality he didn’t even factor in when spinning the wheel of possibility in his head, and yes, okay, they went through hell for it, he almost died for it, but he found a family in it; he found the love of his life in it—on balance there’s no fucking question as to where he landed so far toward the good that ‘good’ seems kinda insultingly inadequate as a descriptor at all.

He needs to think up a better word, for sure.

“M’lady,” Eddie bows as he unloads the tray when he gets back to the table, presenting Erica’s five-scoop tower of ice cream with a flourish: “many effusive congratulations to you,” he settles the bowl in front of her and leans to drum his fingers on the cap with the floofy tassel they’d badgered her to bring for photos; “on to new adventures far afoot,” Eddie continues, unloading Steve’s banana split—a true treat more for Eddie to watch him eat than for Steve to taste himself, because fucking hell—and then his own hot-fudge sundae with whipped cream topped higher than the fucking glass, before he plops down next to Steve, the pair of them side-by-side across from Erica in the booth as he grins at her, because shit: he’s fucking proud, too:

“The denizens of Palo Alto will stand in awe of your grandeur,” he gestures with extra grandiosity with his spoon before he grabs the cherry, glances around for safety before offering it straight to Steve’s mouth, pulling the stem out teasingly when Steve bites and hiding the full stretch of his smile behind a big shovel-full of chocolatey-flakes on the whip.

And he and Steve are quiet, but don’t really dive in because they’re watching, waiting: Erica rolls her eyes at their antics, even if they were subtle, and goes for a bite herself, and okay, moment of truth—

Her eyes speak for her again, then, but to get very, very big as she stills, then slowly takes the spoon from her mouth and pins them with a stare:

“This is,” her mouth works around a whole lot of silence as she stares at her perfect quintuple-scoop array, because it’s all one flavor. And it’s all a flavor she mostly ragged on for being annoyingly on-brand that first summer, Eddie’s heard the stories, but still asked for extra samples of it every goddamn time, to when he and Steve had both been talked more than once to drive out to the nearest location and ‘fulfill the contract’ sworn that fateful July, a task that got more difficult every year as the chain thinned its numbers, until there weren’t any on this side of the state, then none on this side of the border, then just: none in the Midwest, period, and Erica?

She could try to hide it all she wanted, but she was sad. Because that girl had a favorite. And this, here?

Fucking U.S.S. Butterscotch? Hell yeah, it is.

“Called in a favor,” which Steve probably means to sound like he leveraged Eddie’s currently less-than-moderate celebrity or something, but what actually means he charmed the minimum wage high schooler in Portland, because Scoops Ahoy was out West now, and only had about 10 locations left—but he’d convinced the kid to let him buy a whole gallon, paid a premium for cold storage shipping, and then bribed the owner here with ample documentation of proper product preservation and transfer prior to sale, plus a couple crisp Benjamins, to convince the guy to sell it for one day, only to Steve and his guests—given it was a licensed product the parlor wasn’t a retailer for. The favor was the real power behind what passed for the Harrington charm for all those years and it was simply genuine and full-bodied Steve: charming, god yes, charming as fuck but good and kind and earnest and determined, pushy and snarky but more often wielded for the benefit of others than for himself—not to mention persuasive with those puppy-dog eyes.

Because, like, fuck: all these years and Eddie’s still weak for those goddamn eyes.

He lets himself stare at Steve and just, take him in for a little while until Steve feels his gaze—doesn’t take long, they’re aware of each other as a default mods—and lifts those impossible eyes for Eddie to drown in and feel warm inside his veins when they light up for the smile Steve flashes his way.

Fuck, but Eddie loves him.

“When are you coming to visit, then?” Erica breaks the spell; licks her spoon clean before aiming it at them pointedly. They glance at each other—she kinda means the world to them, they’ve grown close with her especially once all the other kids skedaddled, and Eddie thinks he’s not…he’s not surprised, and he thinks he knew she’d want them to visit. He thinks Steve knew that, too.

But he knows, like he knows his own heartbeat and Steve’s even better: Eddie knows Steve feels just as warm and touched and like, fucking moved a little by how she treats it like a given.

“When do you want us there?” Steve asks and yeah, he’s smooth about it, composed and shit, but Eddie knows his voice inside-out and backward. He can hear the emotion stayed back underneath.

“When are you planning to move?”

They don’t even really pause at the way she knows without them saying; she’s the only person who hasn’t outright suggested they get the fuck out of Hawkins, finally. Kinda like they never had to say they were staying until all of their family was accounted for and on their way in the world, safe and sound and whole.

“Nothing’s in stone, yet,” Steve offers, poking Eddie’s foot under the table.

“But you’re looking,” Erica, again, already knows; doesn’t pose it as a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles down at his sundae, and links his hand with Steve between them on the seat; “we’re thinking Chi-town,” because that’s been the front-runner for a while, now, of the cities they’ve considered. Because it doesn’t even have to be forever, they don’t have to commit to a place and never leave—because the only forever-thing in all of this, in anything, is them. Just Steve and Eddie, them two: together.

Wherever they end up.

“Mmm,” Erica considers before scooping another spoon of mostly-butterscotch swirl: “I can see that.”

“You can, can you?” Steve volleys with a smirk, and she lets him goad her into laying out how she knows them, how she sees them, because…it’s maybe strange but then maybe not but it’s always felt special, with her. Maybe because she’s grown up more than any of them, for Steve and Eddie to watch. Maybe because she’s so goddamn smart, that her observations come out near-unchallengable.

Maybe because they both know she loves them, and she knows they love her, and it’s never been…awkward, like it had been in spots with the shitheads over time. It was just understood.

“Big but not huge,” Erica ticks off the reasons for her assessment; “music scene’s decent,” she nods to Eddie, who nods back gracious; “good schools,” she leans to Steve, and yep, that was a huge factor, whether Steve could love his job; “liberal…ish,” she eyes them, and how close they sit, meaningfully before tacking on: “familiar weather.”

Steve huffs a little laugh and Eddie just beams at her: not a single thing wrong there. She’s got them dead to rights, and he kinda loves that about her; so much.

“Semester ends first week of December,” she focuses back on her bowl and speaks with authority, like whatever she’s proposing isn’t a suggestion, just a notice: “if you guys are still here,” she shakes the full spoon in her hand and raises an eyebrow: “I expect ice cream.”

Steve just nods as she pops the spoonful in her mouth whole-on.

“Scoops Troop for life,” he agrees and Eddie perks, always ready when that label pops up.

“Plus honorary trooper,” he chimes in, and Erika grins around her spoon a little as Steve leans close and can’t kiss him here, but Eddie knows well what it means to feel Steve’s breath against the line of his neck like he’s jest stretching past him, like it could be innocent as Steve murmurs low—

“Always.”

And can feel the heat rise in his cheeks, and the flutter in his chest, because…because he’s in love, goddamnit, and it’s been one of the most incredible surprises to learn that he can love so big, and get love so big back in kind, that the feeling never fades, he can always feel weightless and boneless and overwhelmed in the best of ways for just this man near to him, just the pitch of his voice and the promise of his breath on Eddie’s skin.

“You’re cute,” Erika says, the judgement in her tone tempered low as her lips still quirk; “and this is delicious,” she points her spoon again at the remaining ice cream and the tiny puddle it’s melting between the remaining scoops. “So I’ll allow it,” she nods to their pressed-together shoulders and goes back to eating, but never loses the tiny grin and he and Steve both know how much that means, from her.

“But if you’re already there,” she continues when she starts collecting the saucer bits at the base of the bowl: “Chicago’s a decent layover spot, probably,” she shrugs; “but still, here or there,” and she pauses with intention before narrowing her eyes with intention:

“Ice cream.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[sebastianswallows]

A new family — Chapter 4

— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.

— WARNINGS: a lot of angst and just lonely and pining and heartbroken Ominis but not for long

— WORDCOUNT: 1.8k

— TAGLIST: @littletealight @skarathewitch @myrachondria @mrimperio @ssnapsaurus @tarotwitchy-main @hufflepuff-16

“Have you read this one yet?”

“Not yet. You said it’s good?”

“I think so, but I don’t know how it compares to Hereward.”

“He was a middling potioneer at best. He is more famous for his father than his own work. What do you want to have for dinner?”

“Anything is fine.”

Her hand slid on top of his as they lay together on her bed, books spread out between them, their hair tousled on the pillows. Outside, it was still raining. The sun had nearly set, the sky was covered in clouds, and they hadn’t yet lit a lamp. For Ominis, it didn’t make a difference.

He flipped through one of the books without even paying attention to what he picked up, and sightlessly read aloud to her the passages that made him chuckle. The older the book, generally speaking, the more strange and dangerous its instructions were.

“Yes, just cut that claw off at the root from a sleeping dragon, I’m certain nothing bad could happen. To think they gave this instruction to third years in the 1640s…”

“Do they list any evasive manoeuvres?” she asked with a grin.

“I don’t think so, although I can feel something is scribbled on the side… Perhaps a cautionary ‘do not attempt alone’.”

What a strange experience, to be read to in the dark… It was comforting and intimate in a way she’d never experienced before. It made her think of all those school nights when Ominis would be studying on his own, and she’d be off on some quest or scouring through a goblin camp or doing away with Ashwinders using the curses Sebastian taught her. It seemed now like so much time lost… If she had spent more time with him instead, would it have been a comfort to him? Would things had ended up differently?

As Ominis kept reading, she rolled to her side and rested her head against his arm. He paused, but only for a moment, and then went on.

They decided, almost wordlessly, to do together the things they hadn’t done before. After a few more days of rain, they went to the forest looking for mushrooms, something Ominis could not safely do until then. They went on shopping trips to Diagon and Knockturn Alley and spent the whole day there — after a brief stop to Gringotts for him to relieve his family vault of a few more Galleons — and treated themselves to new robes and tailored clothes, and ingredients so they could try out some of the more dangerous potions they could never do at Hogwarts.

At the end of this escapade, she went to her home and packed up a few more things to take back to the mansion. Ominis waited for her with an undying smug smile — in the end, she would still be with him come winter.

“Have you considered staying, perhaps, even longer?” he asked with a casual air as they had tea at a little table next door to Scribbulus.

“You mean over Christmas and New Year’s?”

“Yes,” said Ominis at length, “and maybe longer than that?”

“Your generosity knows no bounds,” she grinned. “Why do you ask?”

“Just tell me. Yes or no?”

He kept a smile on his face, but his brow was tense. Whatever confidence he’d had was clearly dwindling at her refusal to give him a straight answer.

“What are you really asking me, Ominis?” she said with a quiet lean forward and a teasing tone.

“Only what I said…”

She didn’t believe him, but couldn’t stop her grin.

In the end, she agreed to stay with him until January.

“After that, I really must go. I’ve put off looking for employment long enough.”

“There’s nothing to say you can’t remain with me and work.”

“Ominis…”

“And if you mention taking advantage of my so-called generosity one more time, I shall lock you in.”

“Ominis!” she laughed, but a part of her felt he was serious.

“I meant it,” he said more quietly. “I need you. I… I need you, to be happy.”

Her laughter died and she was left gazing at him softly, in silence. She wasn’t used to such openness from him… He was always the quiet one, closed off and elusive, a mystery in many ways, just like his family. And it was in part because of his family that she never considered Ominis as… more. More than a friend. The Gaunts would never have approved of her, and so every early flash of infatuation died until it ceased to flare at all. Of course, she had never imagined the drastic measured he would take to free himself from them… She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed. Between him and Sebastian, perhaps she had an unhealthy interest in homicidal boys.

Slowly, she reached across the table and covered his hand as it still held onto a teacup — an innocent and innocuous one, this time — and searched inside herself.

“It’s a difficult thing to imagine,” she said, “to be the one that makes you happy…”

“I don’t mean it as an imposition,” he said hastily, “not like some… some duty.”

“Still, it’s not what… what I…”

“Not what you had planned for your life?” he asked coolly, leaning back. He slid his hand from underneath hers and picked the cup with the other one for a sip.

“I don’t mean it like that, but… I suppose I don’t know yet what I want from life.”

“But enough to know it isn’t me, isn’t that so?”

“No,” she said with a faint laugh, “not even that much.”

Ominis nodded, but he seemed somewhat at peace, that or the fight had gone out of him at her utter lack of enthusiasm for his roundabout courtship. Still, it hadn’t been an outright rejection, at least not yet…

But it made the rest of their time together a bit more strained. She could feel his attention cast down on her whenever they were together — and perhaps it had always been so, but she only just now noticed — and their silences together grew more sad, more lonely, more discouraged.

Strangely, Ominis became a bit more daring too, as if he had nothing left to lose.

He showed her the mansion’s dungeons, finally, after months of her being there. She’d never asked to see it, but she had learned that it was held under lock and key. The only thing Ominis had told her about it was that it existed. It was a grey and arched expanse with cells on either side, and instruments the sort of which she’d only seen in the DADA class at Hogwarts — iron maidens, racks, heretic forks, and rows and rows of shackles along one of its walls.

“Don’t worry,” said Ominis, “it hasn’t been used in generations. I think. It should be adequately sterile by now.”

It did little to assuage her apprehensions, as the instruments and parts of the floor were still splattered with stains.

“Who were they used on?”

“I never asked.”

Ominis was more daring in asking for what he really wanted, too. Long picnics at the edge of the forest, dragging on until the owls and bats flew overhead and the wolves began to howl. Reading sessions of curse books in her bedroom until midnight with the lamps turned dim. They purchased a gramophone together, a muggle device his parents never would have abided, and played the latest symphonies out of its large flower-shaped cone.

And, lastly, he told her exactly what how he killed his family, and what he did with them… She was only partially surprised, but mostly secretly in awe at his daring and creativity.

He was expecting her to leave almost any day, and took advantage of the time she gave him. She gladly let him do it. And, from sheer cowardice, never addressed his fears — never told him that she felt things she hadn’t felt in years, and simply didn’t know what to do with them, especially in his presence, now, when she was really beginning to know him. Instead of seeing the polite Ominis, the aristocrat, the reluctant heir, the burgeoning dark wizard, she delved into his wants, his needs, his fears, and had found in him very much a kindred spirit.

She did, however, plan to leave — more for his sake than her own. Ominis needed someone who could dedicate their life to him, their freedom, and put aside their sense of self. He also needed a gentle soul who could be a good influence to him. And she was the furthest thing from that…

As the holidays approached, along with her implied departure, they gradually grew more distant. Even when they had dinner, even when they went on walks, or when they danced together by the fireplace to the wailing gramophone, there were silences between them that otherwise would not have been.

She resolved to buy him something, like a consolation gift — something as much for Christmas as for a ‘good-bye’ — and slipped out of the house one day in mid December via floo. There was nothing that someone could give to a boy who had everything — all the luxury, the books, the clothes, and all those fragrant roses that were now buried in snow — but she felt that he uniquely missed a sense of normalcy. He’d probably never celebrated a proper Christmas with his family, only the ones at Hogwarts, and that time must’ve been bitter for him. Seeing so many other classmates going happily back home, coming back with charming little presents and fond stories… She wondered if being around Anne and Sebastian was easier, as they didn’t have much of a home to go back to either.

It was, of course, pointless to speculate, especially when she had a mission: find him a worthy present.

Three hours later, she returned with a prettily wrapped package in brilliant green. The sun was just setting and coloured the sky pink, colouring the drawing room through the wide glass panes. Aside from the flash she made as she arrived, the house was eerily silent. She was pleased with this, of course, as it kept her journey secret. Ominis must have still been in the library where she left him, that or he’d gone looking for her… She meant to hide the package before she returned to him, slip it on some high shelf or some place out of reach, where even his wand wouldn’t detect it, but then she heard footsteps coming from the foyer… She only had enough time to tuck it behind her back.

But the steps were heavy, angry-sounding, and made by large boots. A visitor, at that hour? And uninvited too… She frowned and undid her cloak to lay it on an armchair, ready to confront whoever it was, when the stranger opened the door to the drawing room and walked in.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She recognised him from the pictures that still littered the mansion: Marvolo Gaunt.

[aboutnavi]

I was brushing my teeth, reflecting about life, & my mind went back to AFTG and there is a scene on the first book that it has been stuck on my brain since I read the trilogy again this January and it's about Seth. Now, I know the fandom -in general- barely talk about Seth because Nora decided to kill him off for shock value and when people try to talk about him, it always comes back to 'he was a homophobic, disgusting piece of shit' which yes, valid but also, are we forgetting Aaron? The babyfication of Aaron in this fandom had everyone collectively forgetting he was exactly like Seth (even worse: towards his family!!!). Two wrongs doesn't make one right & I'm in no way justifying Seth's action but if we never talk about characters on AFTG just because they were problematic, we are not talking about any of them, ever (ok maybe some of them, but still).

My point is: the scene. Neil is confused as to why Seth hates Kevin -specifically him- so much, since Seth could get along with most people if he wanted and tried hard enough but he refused to give ground to Kevin & his answer is just so humanly heartbreaking it goes to my list of moments Nora did something right in AFTG. The scene goes like this:

Neil: Why do you hate him?

Seth: Because I'm sick of him getting everything he wants just because he's Kevin Day. Do you know what fame gets you, shitface? Everything. All he has to do is ask for it, and someone will give it to him. Doesn't matter what. Doesn't matter who. The world is dying to give him anything he wants. When he broke his hand, his fans cried for him. They flooded our locker room with letters and flowers. The amazing Kevin Day can't play anymore. Their lives were over. They'd grieve the loss forever. But tell me when's the last time anyone cried over you? Never, right? They're there for Kevin every step of the way, but where were they when we needed them?

Neil, stupidly: So you're jealous.

Seth: His life is not more important than mine just because he's more talented.

Neil first instinct is to say jealousy because jealousy is something he understands (he felt jealous of Kevin for having a future, for being able to play, for the talent, for the life he never got to live when his mother ran away, etc.) but for me what Seth is trying to portrait is more like the painful awareness that you get when you realize you're also worthy of love and care. Seth is such an unexplored character who had so much potential if Nora hadn't killed him for the sake of showing how Riko could be/was dangerous (and she could have done that in so many different ways!!!) & you can see that on, for example, Nora's post about his life. Seth was always the no-priority person, the kid no one payed attention to, the boy that if killed, not even his mother would come for the funeral. He was every aspect a Fox and he spent his entire life being told he was no one and to be able to say his life is not more important than mine shows so much development; the chance he had put on himself for being open to love, to care, to second and third chances... it was all there. It breaks my heart that he never got the chance to become something. & I do not believe he was an inherently bad person? They are so young in AFTG, all of them. Maybe Seth wasn't bad; maybe he was just twenty-two, you know?

& on the extra content when they tell Allison he died and she goes 'He called me not even an hour ago! He was drunk and rambling but he was happy for the first time in weeks. He was talking about how he finally thought graduating would be okay, about how he wanted me to help him look into grad schools. He wanted to go into social work and help people like he helps us. I know he wanted to die! Everyone knows he wanted to die! Every time he said he was done with life I walked away from him and every time he came chasing after me. This is the first time--he wanted to live.' breaks my heart.

Because, ok, Seth dies. Let's pretend it was a good idea for him to die to set some sort of impact on the story for a second. Except his death goes without much fuss. The shock Nora wanted is felt for maybe three seconds, in one paragraph in the last page of TFC and then we barely talk about Seth on TRK and TKM. Neil can't even understand how impactful was Seth's death - he only cares about how it will affect the game & his guilt is more about how Allison would feel towards him then sadness over losing a teammate - and this insight we get from Allison is from the extra content and not everyone goes on to read those so if Nora wanted something out of his death - pity, shock, sadness, or whatever - she should have put this scene IN THE BOOKS.

[ramp-it-up]

I Still Have You

Paring: Chris Evans x Reader

Word count: 1.5 K

Summary: It’s a very pregnant Christmas for the Evanses.

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI. RPF, SMUT. Not Beta’d. Flashbacks, discussion of miscarriages, grief, angst, beach vacay, piggy back ride, Kit cooking, family dynamics. Graphic depiction of pregnancy sex. Dunkin’. But mostly fluffy fluff.

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask. Also listen. Look me in my eyes. This was not easy for me to write and I don’t want to see any dumb comments about miscarriages. Heed the warnings. This is a part of the How I Met Your Father AU.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Chris’s hand snaked around your baby bump and pulled you flush against his chest. You snuggled back against him and his hard body.

“Hmmmmm…G’morning.”

Chris buried his nose in your fragrant curls, your bonnet having come off in your sleep. You were less able to be comfortable as your pregnancy progressed, but luckily this pregnancy was healthy, despite the worry of the first few weeks.

You’d lost two pregnancies since you had the twins 12 years ago. You and Chris had been heartbroken, but decided not to try again and that your family was complete. You loved and lived life to the fullest.

However, when the twins were 12 years old, you discovered through a home pregnancy test that you were expecting again. It was right before your family trip last summer, and you were on edge for the first few days of the vacation.

You decided to tell Chris as you walked on the beach on the second evening.

“I have a secret to tell you, Chris.”

“What is it, Angel?”

Chris was a little concerned, you’d been jittery and moody. He stopped and looked at you in the light of the golden hour. You were so beautiful.

“Is everything okay?”

He reached for you and pulled you into his embrace. You relaxed into his strength, his warmth, and his smell. And you started crying.

“Chris. I…I’m… I’m”

“Shhhh. It’s okay. I know you’ve been stressed. What with the new position, the twins going to junior high and your cousin’s graduation and this trip.”

He kissed the top of your head.

“I see how exhausted you’ve been, falling asleep on the couch every night. That’s why I had hoped that you would take this opportunity to relax…”

“Chris. I’m pregnant.”

Chris didn’t believe he’d heard you. Your last pregnancy was over five years ago. He’d gone ten toes down for his perfect little family. And he didn’t know if he could go through that loss again. He knew you couldn’t.

Chris drew back to look you in the eye.

“What did you say?”

You looked into the deep blue pools of his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant.”

“But… how?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. He joined you.

“I mean…”

He grinned at you, your laughter making him stronger.

“Well, you’ve always had that super soldier sperm. And it’s rare, but vasectomies can fail…”

Chris just blinked at you.

“Oh my god. We’re gonna have another baby. When?”

Chris was absolutely giddy.

“I haven’t been to the doctor, but maybe in about eight months? January?”

Chris was still in shock.

“Boy or girl? Twins or just one?”

“Yep!”

You both broke down in laughter. You were beginning to think you could do this.

A jolt of joy suddenly struck Chris. He couldn’t wallow in grief; this was another chance.

He picked you up and twirled you around.

“CHRIS! CHRIS! I’m gonna throw up!”

You were laughing, but also about to hurl.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. I just. I love you so much. And I love us. And the twins. And this bundle of joy in here.”

Chris’s warm palm covered your belly, and you reached up to kiss him, for a moment, all fear of loss gone.

He beamed down at you and you up at him.

“I love you too, Chris.”

You smiled at him again, and then hugged him.

“How are you? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine!”

Chris looked back down the beach.

“It’s too far for you to walk back.”

“No, I’m…”

He turned around and bent down. He looked back at you over his shoulder.

“Get on.”

“Chris, you’re being…”

“Get on, Y/N.”

You sighed and climbed on his back. Chris easily stood up and set off toward the beach house. You put your chin in his shoulder and started to think as he effortlessly carried you back.

“Chris…”

“I know. We’ll wait until we go to the doctor to tell anyone.”

You nodded, grateful for the connection between you and your husband. After you told Chris, you were able to relax and enjoy the rest of the trip.

Telling the twins after you were past the 12 week mark was an experience.

“You two are disgusting.”

“Wynn Angel Evans! You need to watch your tone.”

“I’m sorry. But aren’t you both a little old for this?

Chris wasn’t having it.

“Do you want to go to your room until you’re as old as we are?”

Wynn got quiet, not used to harsh words from her dad. CJ was just silent. You sensed some warring emotions in him. You two had always been close. He looked at you with those eyes just like his dad’s and you knew. You cocked your head and CJ came to give you a hug. You held your arm out for Wynn, who sat on the other side of you, between you and Chris.

“Listen. I know this is a lot. And you’re right, I am older, but I’m not that old. But dad is.”

You nudged Wynn and laughed as Chris protested.

“Hey!”

Now there was laughter in the room.

“And neither of you have to worry that you will be replaced. We will love you forever. Our hearts will just get bigger.”

You looked from twin to twin.

“Yours will, too.”

Everyone calmed down a bit after that, catching the joy of a new life in the house. You took a sabbatical from work in order to take care of yourself.

That was over six months ago. You’d had a healthy pregnancy and were excited to meet the new member of the Evans family. At Christmas you were 37 weeks. So close.

You snuggled back onto Chris’s erection as he gently felt up your sensitive breasts. Your nipples pebbled as he pressed his lips to the side of your neck.

“What are you up to, Daddy?”

You felt Chris’s dick jump against your backside.

“I’m trying to make you feel good. Give you an extra present after yesterday’s festivities.”

Chris’s hand moved down your side and slid under your belly to slip his thick fingers into your panties.

You moaned as he found you wet and wanton, moving against his hand for more friction.

Chris gently but down on your pulse point, causing you to keen.

“Chris…”

“What do you want, Angel? What do you need?”

Chris was grinding against your panties, the wet tip of his cock promising something that he had yet to give you.

“You, Chris, Please…”

“Oh My beautiful girl, you don’t need to beg. This is always for you.”

As he whispered praises in your ear, Chris was lifting your thigh, pulling your panties to the side, and slowly entering you while laying down

“Oooohhhh….”

You arched and threw your head back onto Chris’s chest. The shudder as he entered you was inescapable.

“Dammmmmnnnnn, Angel. So so tight.”

Chris was fully seated inside of you and gripping your hip to keep control.

Lovemaking wasn’t vigorous anymore, but it was needed. And you knew that It would be a while after the baby came. You wanted to savor this connection.

“Ohhhh. Chrissy. Please. Give it to me…”

“Nnnnnnnghhhh!”

Chris moaned.

“You always have me wanting to lose control. Lose myself in you… My favorite thing.”

“Hmmmmm.”

You licked your lips as Chris started moving, him looking down over your shoulder as he watched you cream on his dick in the early morning light.

“Even after all these years?”

The kiss he gave you on your cheek would have been chaste, except that his huge cock was invading your fat, swollen, sensitive cunt.

“For many more to come, god willing.”

Chris started pumping a little harder now.

“Please, I want to die like this..”

Chris kissed the side of your neck as he rocked his cock deep inside you and his words made your heart swell and beat in time with his, and you started to climax.

“Ohhhh…ohhhhhhh, ohhhhh! Chris!”

“God you’re squeezing me… I can’t. I can’t hold it damn you make me…”

Chris thrusted for dear life as he emptied his seed into you. He lazily thrummed your clit, causing you to shudder as you came down.

A few minutes later, Chris carefully slipped out of you and led you to the shower, where he lovingly washed you both up. Your eyelids were drooping.

“Get some rest, mama. I’ll get you some food.”

One hour later, your growling stomach and kicking kid propelled you out of bed to the kitchen, where you caught the tail end of an argument between Chris and Kit who had come to Massachusetts with your family for Christmas. Wynn and CJ were watching, enthralled.

Someone (you guessed Kit) had tried to make pancakes in the microwave. What resulted was a rubbery mess.

“You really can’t cook, can you?”

Chris was grumbling as he cleaned up the mess.

“No shit, Sherlock. When in the 13 years that you’ve known me, have you known me to cook?”

Chris scowled.

“Then why did you say yes when I asked you to make breakfast for your best friend?”

“Because I will do anything for her. And don’t you forget it, Dude Bro.”

Kit was threatening Chris with a rubber pancake.

“How ‘bout we go to Dunkin’?”

You chuckled as you rescued your husband from certain doom.

Less than 24 hours later, Jack Arthur Evans was born, healthy at 7 lbs 8 oz two days after Christmas.

The moment everyone met him, no one could imagine the world without him.

When in doubt, reblog it out!

[tgmsunmontue]

It's all academic darlin' PART 1/10

12k+ Hangster AU. Updating 2-3 parts per week and will be finished by 31st January 2024. (Each part is ~1500 words).

Bradley is a professor but living his best life with IceMav parents. Jake is a pilot. Maverick sort-of tries (and fails) to play matchmaker, so he tries again. Touch of epistolary and sprinkling of one-sided unknown/mistaken-identity.

(Note for later parts/chapters - Ice uses sign to communicate at home, I’m typing it like sign is English despite the fact that I know it isn’t (while NZSL is my third language, I have no working knowledge on the grammar useage in ASL).)

PART ONE

                The 12 hour trip has given him plenty of time to think. He doesn’t know what possessed him to accept Mav’s offer; quiet place you can just get away from everything. When faced with the idea of going home and seeing his family, not being able to answer questions versus being offered a solitary retreat into the woods for a week or two or however long he could stand his own company… Well, he’s never spent very much time alone before and he guesses the novelty had held a certain appeal. He knows he might not actually be alone when he gets there. Mav had mentioned that his son might still be there, but that he’d be leaving to get back to school. It had made him sound young. But Jake’s seen photos, knows that Bradley has at least graduated from some form of college judging from the photos in Mav’s office and hangar, proud moments documented with pictures. 

                Sure enough when he pulls in front of the cabin there’s another truck out front, music blaring from somewhere. He steps out of his own truck and can now hear someone loudly singing along. He follows the sound around the house and yep, definitely the same guy from the photos (the flash of moustache is the clincher). He’s cutting wood, axe swinging easily in time with the music and Jake takes his time to just watch. He’s tall, maybe a bit taller than Jake and he hadn’t been expecting that with how tall Maverick was not. Shirtless, skin tanned and gleaming with sweat from the combination of summer heat and exertion of cutting wood. Jake swallows, letting his eyes run over the scene appreciatively because it’s been a little while and this right here is… nice.

                “Baby can I hold you tonight?” Thunk. “Baby if I told you the right words.” Thunk. “Ooo, at the right time.” Thunk. “Would you be mine?” Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. “Baby can I hold you tonight?” Thunk.

                As he watches, he assesses; Bradley looks around the same age as Jake and the other Dagger squadron members. Not young at all then. No wonder Mav had been so insistent about getting them all home, dad-vibe just morphing to encompass them all. He’d never had imagined a man with Maverick’s history to be a family man. That somehow, somewhere along the line, Maverick managed to raise a small human into the tall drink of water in front of him. Jake doesn’t know why he feels surprised, Mav is a good-looking man despite his age but he still doesn’t see much of a resemblance between him and Bradley. He shifts on his feet, not wanting to interrupt a man holding an axe, especially one as attractive while doing so… he licks his lips, wishing for a toothpick or some gum just to have something to do with his mouth and his lips twitch as he thinks about other ways he could occupy his mouth with the man in front of him. He startles, realization hitting him hard and fast. This is Mav’s son.

                Fuck.

                He cannot, under any circumstances, fuck with this man. Literally or figuratively. Maverick would kill him. He’d find some way to make it look like an accident, or just commit outright murder and then hide the body. And there would be no shortage of volunteers to help him do it. It’s only for a couple of days before Bradley apparently has to leave, Jake can be on his utmost best behavior. And it’s not like he’s in any fit state anyway. It’ll be fine.

                “Fucking shit!”

                Jake jumps at the yell, staring into the wide eyes of Bradley Mitchell, because there cannot be that many people with that moustache in the world. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, knows he’s going to have to refrain from so many comments about that distracting caterpillar of facial hair.

                “Sorry!”

                “Jesus man, you scared the fuck out of me…”

                The urge to bite back and tell him he shouldn’t be cutting wood by himself, or have music playing so loudly he can’t hear vehicles come up the road are on the tip of his tongue but he bites them back. Best behavior he reminds himself. And when did he become such an old man? Ugh.

                “Sorry,” he starts again. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I’m Jake. Lieutenant Jake Serensin.”

                The other man’s face goes pale under his tan, eyes going wide.

                “Fuck. Is Mav okay?”

                Shit.

                “He’s fine! Totally fine. Sorry. Again. I didn’t mean to worry you. You’re Bradley though right? Mav’s son? He said you’d be here, told me he’d let you know to expect me.”

                A look of relief is quickly replaced by chagrin and Jake bites his lip, because he’s definitely not expected.

                “Shit, I dropped my phone in the lake yesterday. Haven’t checked in with anyone. Obviously you’re welcome though, any friend of Mav’s is a friend of mine,” Bradley says. He’s smiling, reaching his hand out to shake and Jake gives himself a mental slap. He’s not sure if he should correct him on the whole friends with Mav front, because he’s pretty sure the older man merely tolerates him. And this is the son of a superior officer and he’s a guest and he will remember his manners if he doesn’t want to deal with the certain Southern guilt that will settle on him later. Best behavior. Which is also why he won’t go asking questions about why Bradley calls his dad by his fucking callsign.

                “Nice to meet you.”

                “Likewise. Sorry I wasn’t expecting you. You obviously know Mav, and who I am. I figure you’re not a serial killer. Let me just, uh, grab my shirt and then I can help you with your bags.”

                He wants to tell him not to bother, that he’s enjoying the view plenty, but even something as benign as ‘don’t put a shirt on on my account’ would come out heavy with the (intended) innuendo so he keeps his mouth shut and nods before realizing he doesn’t need any help with his bags and says as much, biting back another comment about the floral Hawaiian shirt that the other man is shoving his arms through but still leaving completely unbuttoned and okay, he’s thankful for small mercies. He’s going to look, he’s not a fucking saint.

                “It’s fine man, come on. Let me show you the guest room. Did you bring groceries? I hope Mav warned you to bring food, because unless you like hunting and fishing you’re shit out of luck.”

                Fortunately Mav had warned him and Jake had organized groceries. He carries everything inside with Bradley’s help; front door opening into a large living space with a kitchen and dining area to one side, a large wall-mounted TV on one wall and then a fireplace taking up the central inner wall, clearly used for heating in the cooler months. Down a short hallway Bradley points out Mav’s bedroom, his own and then the guest room where Jake drops his duffle.

                Heading back to the kitchen he takes in the few photos, not many personalized ones, but plenty of ones of different types of aircraft and something in him feels a little more settled just looking at the pictures of the planes in the air. The piano and guitar make him pause and he wonders if either belong to Mav or Bradley. Obviously one or both of them play, although he can’t imagine Mav playing either. Then there are the books. So many books, some look like heavy texts and Jake wonders who the hell comes away on vacation to read textbooks that are thick enough to be classified as weapons. He can imagine Mav reading them over playing the musical instruments though. Bradley is putting the chilled items away in the fridge, offering him a beer and Jake takes it gratefully. One won’t hurt.

                “So how was the drive?”

                “Long.” Too long considering he’s meant to be taking it easy but he’s done worse.

                “Where did you drive from?”

                “North Island.”

                “Shit. I thought you’d just come from Fallon.”

                “Huh. No. That would have been much closer, but I needed to get away.”

                He almost expects Bradley to ask, but he guesses growing up with Mav he knows some questions won’t get answers so lets it slide and Jake’s grateful.

                “So you saw Mav yesterday?”

                “Yep, sure did. He made the offer a few days ago and just reminded me of it yesterday and I thought… sure. Why not.”

                “Did he give you a list of jobs?”

                “No. Should he have?”

                “He must like you,” Bradley laughs and Jake’s eyes catch the column of his throat as he tips his bottle to take a drink and he swallows roughly. Okay. He looks away and hums, shrugs. Doesn’t want to mention the concussion and bruises he’s still recovering from. He’s meant to be taking it easy and Mav knows it.

                “So, what do you do? Or is being a lumberjack a fulltime gig?”

                “Ha. No. I’m a… teacher.”

                Jake quirks an eyebrow because that answer had waivered as an almost question. But it tracks with the summer break and the whole getting back to school thing Mav has mentioned. And it’s a good a conversation as any, although it is quickly turned on him, with Bradley asking him about his flying experiences, looking a little wistful when Jake mentions going through Top Gun and he wonders if it would be impolite to ask why Bradley didn’t join the Navy like Mav. Definitely. Obviously his face still asks the question, because Bradley is offering up information freely.

                “My mom asked me to not join the Navy. Not quite her dying wish, but pretty damn close…”

                Well shit. He winces.

                “I’m sorry –” Jake starts and Bradley is already waving his hand.

                “It was over twenty years ago, you’re good. I’m good. She just wanted me safe. Of course, telling a teenager he can’t do something isn’t usually the best approach. And keeping Mav from teaching me to fly was never going to happen. I got my solo license when I was sixteen and haven’t looked back. I love flying.”

                “That is something I can agree with,” Jake says, tipping his beer bottle toward Bradley.

                “To flying.”

                “To flying,” Bradley repeats, his smile wide and friendly.

PART TWO

[syddsatyrn]

☆Pairing: - Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

☆Warnings: Fluff, sexual themes, Eddie takes nudes for the reader, smoking, Characters are all 18+

Minors DNI, scram!

☆Words: 1.8k

☆Summary: Eddie doesn't have a lot of money, but he’s determined to get you a Christmas present. He gets creative with a polaroid camera and comes up with a more "personalized" gift. (You're gonna want to scroll to the bottom lol, trust me)

☆Notes: This fic is apart of a holiday prompt challenge @hellfiremunsonn and I are doing for our Christmas event. You can find that post Here. We will be doing holiday prompts and request all month long so come join us!

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺　༻✦༺ ༻✧༺　

Eddie might not be the smartest, the strongest or the most well behaved person on this planet. But one trait he did possess was determination. Eddie had been saving up, selling extra weed, pinching every penny from his shows. But he just still didn't quite have enough to pay for all the things he wanted to get you. You deserve only the very best after all. It's the middle of December, he doesn't have very much time left to curate the perfect Christmas gift. Okay, maybe he did procrastinate a little. 

Eddie sits crisscross on his bed, sorting coins and loose paper bills. When he realizes he only has about 55 dollars, he sighs. Maybe Uncle Wayne was right about getting a real job. That wasn't going to stop him though. This is actually a rather important Christmas. In January, your parents want to take you to Italy as a graduation gift. Now, don’t get it wrong, he was happy for you . But he's never been away from you for this long and it worries him.

What if she meets some hot Italian guy with money and class? You come from a pretty wealthy family, it’s never been a problem before, but Eddie can help but feel a little inadequate in comparison to what he imagines you should go for. He taps his chin, trying to turn the wheels in his brain. “C’mon, Eddie, think…”

Eddie’s mind wandered for a bit but his eyes suddenly focused on your polaroid camera hanging off his bedroom door handle. You had left it here and Almost immediately the thought popped into his head. He gets up and grabs the camera strap, trying to remember how this thing works. He inspects it carefully, noticing the timer on the lens barrel, “Seems easy enough…”

Eddie has never done this before for girls he’s dated in the past. He’s thought about it, but he didn't feel like he could be spontaneous or confident enough. Eddie trusts you far more than you know, and wants to show you that he does. He feels completely safe with you and knows you love him no matter what.

He places the camera on top of his amp and removes his shirt, tossing it somewhere. He sets the timer and sits on his bed, leaning forward, elbow on his knees, and an evil look in his eye. His long brown curls cascade around his face. The camera flashes and makes a whirring noise then the polaroid slowly prints. Eddie takes it between his fingers and shakes it gently. After some waiting, the picture was clear enough to see.

He was initially rather surprised it came out looking exactly how he wanted. With heightened confidence, he grabs the camera and hops onto the bed. Eddie leaned against the wall and angled the camera low. Another flash and another polaroid but this one featured his waistline in a pair of low hanging sweatpants. Examining his work, he’s kind of proud of himself, they actually look really good.

Eddie grabs an envelope from his desk and places the photos inside for safe keeping. He pulls a cigarette from the pack near his bedside table and lights it. He takes a second to think, staring at the camera on his bed, maybe he should take a couple more?

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺　༻✦༺ ༻✧༺　

Loud chimes from the alarm clock fill the room, shaking Eddie from his sleep. He scrambled to hit the button on the top to silence it. He lets out a weary sigh and pulls a cigarette from the pack on his nightstand. He lights it and saunters over to his bedroom window, it has stopped snowing, but a blanket of white coated the trailer park and it didn't look like it was going away anytime soon.

It's Christmas day, he's been looking forward to giving you this gift for over a week now and the suspense is killing him. Eddie opens his bedroom door, figuring now is a good time to make coffee. But to his surprise, sitting in his doorway is a red paper bag with a note attached to it.

“Nephew, I know we agreed not to get presents this year but I couldn't pass this up. I went to town to help some folks get their cars unstuck. Be back before dinner.”

Merry Christmas, Ed

- Uncle Wayne

He peers into the bag and pulls out a pair of chunky black boots. Great timing considering he has to leave the house in this weather. Uncle Wayne really came through today. He makes a mental note to thank him later tonight. Eddie proceeds with his normal routine, a cup of coffee with a joint and then he gets dressed. He layers up with a long sleeve shirt under a black hoodie. Eddie added a red flannel on top of that, then his leather jacket. The boots Wayne gifted him are extremely comfortable. His other pair are completely tattered and the tread is worn down to nothing.

Eddie grabs a large dark blue bag out of his closet. He goes over his mental check-list before heading out the door. Keys, wallet, smokes, lighter, present. When he opened the door a rush of cold air cut through him like a knife. He shuts the door and locks it behind, the snow crunches under his feet as he makes his way down the front steps and to his van. She started right up and Eddie breathed a sigh of relief.

You didn't live far from him, about a 15 minute drive. The roads had been plowed so the operation doesn't seem so treacherous. Eddie popped an Iron maiden tape into his vans cassette player, music always helps him concentrate. He parks down the road a little and trudges his way through the snow and up your driveway, gift in hand.

He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell to your family home. He could hear all sorts of clamor behind the door. Children laughing and playing, conversations, and classical music meld together. Then you open the door, a bright smile on your face, the same smile that melts Eddie’s cold heart every time.

“Hey! Merry Christmas!” You say as you throw your arms around his neck. Eddie uses his free arm to pull you closer, you look down at the black paper bag then meet his gaze. “What do you have here, handsome?” Your voice is smooth and sweet, it sends a chill up his spine.

“Just a little something for the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He peppers your face with kisses and you pull him inside by the collar of his jacket. Immediately after that, your mom walks around the corner and visibly gets excited.

“Eddie! I’m so glad you made it! Are you hungry?” She asks, always offering him food every time he visits.

“Yes ma’am, of course I am. It’s always nice to see you again.”

“Oh you too, sugar.” She notices the bag, “Awe! How sweet! Did you bring that for y/n?”

“Should I open it now?” You laugh at your mom’s usually nosy antics.

“No! No…uhh it's very personal.” Eddie falters, attempting to save face.

“Okay, whatever you say. We can go to my room.” You giggle at how worked up he is, the curiosity is killing you, what could be so “personal” in this mystery bag. You take Eddie's hand and lead him upstairs, once you pass the threshold of your bedroom, Eddie shuts the door behind him.

“Oooo so secretive.” You giggle and Eddie smiles, his eyes however tell you that he's a little nervous. Eddie hands you the bag and you sit on the bed. The first thing you pull out is an envelope, but Eddie tells you to open that last. The second thing you grab is a hoodie, you unfold it and immediately recognize the texture. It’s the Metallica hoodie you steal from him every time you come over.

“It's yours now.” He says with that signature smirk you still can't get enough of.

“Eddie I–”

“Nope. I will not be taking any criticism at this time.” He retorts and crosses his arms. Next, you pull out a small, rectangular black box with a red ribbon. You open it and gasp softly and stare in awe at the beautiful stainless steel chain with a small heart shaped lock pendant.

“Oh my god, Eddie, this is so pretty. ” You turn your back to him and motion for Eddie to help you put it on.

“Only the best for my girl.” He says proudly, grabbing both ends of the chain and clasping them together. You push all your hair to the side and reposition the pendant. You look at him for approval but all he can do is smile. His nervous thoughts about not being able to spend more on you faded the more he saw how much you love it. “Okay, okay. Now you can open the envelope.”

“Saving the best for last?” You tease as you carefully tear open the front of the envelope.

“Maybe.” Eddie can't stop smiling, but there is a slight red tint spreading across his face as he watches you open it.

Upon looking inside, you see a piece of paper, most likely another one of his hand written love letters you adore so much. But there are about 5 polaroids in there. You take them out and carefully examine the first one, you can feel your face growing warm. You flip through each one very quickly and immediately hide your face in your sweater sleeves.

“EDDIE! Oh my god!” You’re absolutely shocked. This was definitely a surprise to you. Your face felt like it was on fire. Why does he have to be so hot at unexpectedly, Eddie always seems to keep you on your toes.

He starts cackling and saunters over to you and cups your cheek. “I didn't want you to forget what you’re leaving behind when you visit Italy.”

“A very good reminder indeed.” You giggle and lace your fingers with his other hand, “I couldn't forget you even if I tried.” Eddie presses his lips to yours, starting off slowly, you hook your index finger around the collar of his hoodie and pull him just a little closer. Eddie carefully crawls on top of you while his lips travel across your jaw, pinning you to the bed.

“Do you wanna know what I got you for Christmas?” You coo in his ear as you card your fingers through his long brown locks and tuck some of his hair behind his ear.

“Hmm..?"

“ I can't tell you because it's personal.” You mock his earlier statement and he chuckles under his breath followed by a huff.

“But I could show you.”

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺　༻✦༺ ༻✧༺　

“I wanted to do something different, make it so you can’t get me out of your head, you know? These are FOR YOU only. Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Enjoy your Vacation, you deserve it.”

-Love,

Eddie ♥️

Disclaimer: (Not my photo, I shopped this with photos from Pinterest)

[ubescoups]

Run To You

Chapter One

January 2023.

Last semester in college. 

Elle’s seniors say it is the most pivotal semester for an accounting student. 

Make it or break it.

It doesn’t help that her mother has been vocal about her being a graduating student. She knows she cannot claim it yet. Elle’s far from being a graduating student. 

Whenever her mother says that her breath hitches a little, maybe it’s because she needs to finish this degree this June. She has no choice. She’s at the mercy of her aunt, who’s residing overseas and funding her college education. It’s a fact she has to remember over and over again to force herself to study. 

As the youngest among her cousins, she has heard the great tales of her parents’ wealth in the 90s. 

Alam mo, Elle, dati, ang mama at papa mo ang naggagala sa amin sa Greenbelt noon tapos they would take us to restaurants to eat out. 

Mama mo ang nagpaaral sa amin dati. 

The best talaga sila mama at papa mo.

She could only listen to those stories and wished that her parents did better at handling their finances. 

Hindi naman namin alam na dadating ka sa buhay namin, anak.

They were trying for a baby for a long time and had her years later. Her late father and mother often say she’s an answered prayer, but it makes her wonder. Why did they not think too far ahead about the life their kid will have if she’s a prayer they have recited maybe a million times?  

Despite growing remorse for her parents’ past decisions, she keeps pushing forward. 

Ano nga naman magagawa ko? Nangyari naman na ang lahat. Wala na akong magagawa. Pagbubutihin ko na lang. Ako na ang bubuhay kay Mama pagtapos nito.

It has been ingrained in her mind that she will be the family’s breadwinner once she completes her degree. 

Si Elle ang pag-asa mo.

Her relatives would say it to her mother as she gloats that her daughter, Elle, has been the responsible and intelligent kid she has always wanted. Her mother would say she was able to raise her well by making sure she had the best study habits and demeanor as a kid. It has been that way since she was a kid, and it’s why her aunt has supported her studies since she was a kid. She was the wonder kid of the most influential maternal figure of the family after her grandmother. 

“Napaano ka, Elle?” Jun asks as he settles beside the lady drowning in her thoughts. 

“Ah, may naiisip lang,” she replies with a slight smile. 

“Oh, ito. I got us some coffee,” he says. 

“Nag-abala ka pa, huy,” she hastily replies. 

“Wala ‘yan. Break ka muna sa pagkakape sa Lawson. Tikman mo ‘yan. Bagong bukas ‘yan sa Dapitan,” he tells her as he places the cup of coffee on her armrest. 

Elle thanks him. On the cup’s lid is a carefully folded note. She opens it. 

Kaya mo ‘yan, Elle. Ikaw pa! Andito lang ako. - Jun <3

“Thank you, Jun. Effort mo talaga,” she says, lips curling slightly. 

She’s been hesitant to think about what Jun has been doing for her. Elle knows she cannot handle being responsible for another person’s feelings when she can’t even contain her own. Elle still cannot sleep at night alone with the lights off. She would feel suffocated by her thoughts. That alone proves that she will only hurt Jun if she lets herself fall for him. 

Kapag hindi kami nagtagal at napamahal na ako sa kanya, mawawala ako sa huwisyo. Hindi ko kaya ‘yon. May hinahabol pa akong pangarap.

Elle knows her limits. She has to be focused on one goal. All eyes are on her. A lot is expected from her. She knows she has no right to be sidetracked. Being an only child means carrying out the family’s responsibilities because it’s her role. 

“Saan ka nga pala after class, Elle? Gusto mo ba aral tayo kasama sila Denise at Coleen?” Jun asks. 

“Cafe ba? If yes, pass muna. Gusto ko muna umuwi agad. Masakit likod ko eh,” Elle responds. 

“Discord na lang?” Jun asks. 

She nods.

That is not just the reason why she declined Jun’s offer. Elle doesn’t tell her friends that she’s trying to budget the allowance that she gets from her mother to have her indulgences. She has committed to joining her friends outside the university in a drag show next month. For a student who commutes from her hometown to Manila every class day, Elle gets to save a little money that she spends on sudden school-related expenses and her hobbies. Because of this, she would put herself on strict financial planning to ensure she saves money. 

Purgang purga na ako sa siomai rice at rice meals ng Lawson.

She eats a lot of food at home to minimize the need to buy food around the university. It doesn’t help that lately, her friends would drag her with them to study in cafes or co-working spaces. Elle can only sigh at how tight her finances are. Unlike the pandemic's peak when she could do some business and work to support herself and contribute to their household while studying, she cannot do part-time jobs anymore as she has to focus on her courses. 

“Kakasimula palang ng sem na ‘to parang mamamatay na ako sa bigat ng subjects,” Coleen retorts as she picks up her bag from the plastic chair. 

“Discord na lang diba, Jun, Elle?” Denise asks.

Elle nods. 

“Okay. Kitakits. Mga eight na tayo magsimula para makahinga-hinga lahat pagtapos bumiyahe,” Jun says, looking at Elle. 

The three nod in agreement. 

“Una na ako, guys. Maghahabol pa ako ng jeep,” Elle says. 

“Gesi. Ingat, Mama Elle,” Denise replies. 

“Ikaw rin. Coleen, Jun, kayo rin,” Elle adds.

“Bye, Elle. Text me when you get home?” Jun says. 

Elle nods. 

After some hugs and a little chitchat, Elle steps out of the room as she places earphones on her ears. If one thing could silence her raging thoughts, it would be music. She momentarily forgets her worries over the upcoming first comprehensive exams for each of her subjects this semester. She doesn’t think of the many things she has to catch up on at home and her internship that’s about to end. She doesn’t think about the upcoming research defense initially scheduled last month. Aside from that, she has some org work to accomplish. 

She walks along the pathways in front of Albertus and Ruaño, music blasting in her ears. The wind is cooling her sweaty skin as she looks around her surroundings—a temporary solace. 

A man laughing with his friends blocks the path as she trudges on the sidewalk. 

“Excuse me po,” she retorts. 

“Ay, sensya po,” the man mutters. 

Elle stops herself from rolling her eyes. Engineering students block the pathway every day she’s in the university. They would talk in the middle of the sidewalk while walking slowly—her pet peeve. She continues to walk, focusing on the music she’s listening to. 

If not for the slow traffic along España, she would stay on the campus for a bit. She would let the cold wind of the late afternoon kiss her skin as her eyes wandered to the greenery from Plaza Mayor to Lovers’ Lane. The turmoil caused by the classes in her building is silenced by the solace brought upon by the campus once she goes out of Albertus. It has been that way since 2019, even when the college was still in the university’s carpark. 

Having those thoughts, Elle realized how far she had come. She was far from the girl who was discouraged by the guy she took care of when she was a freshman and he was a sophomore. 

Hindi mo kaya ‘tong course na ‘to.

Kung ako sa’yo, umalis ka na habang maaga pa. 

Shift ka na.

It was three years ago when it all happened, but his voice is still in Elle’s head whenever a semester starts. 

Will she be able to survive it? Is he right all along? 

It’s no secret that Accounting, in general, is never her dream career path. It didn’t help that she transferred from BS Accountancy to BS Management Accounting in her second year in college. Elle has always felt doubt and uncertainty about her decisions and path in life as an accounting student because she was never sure of it, and she had someone doubt her from the start. 

She sighs heavily as she exits the campus to cross the street through the footbridge. She looks at the heavy traffic flow caused by the rush hour. Surviving a three-hour lecture is one thing, but the commute home is another story. 

Her daily demise as a student could have been prevented if her parents planned her college education well, but she knows there is no point in thinking about it already. She can only live in the moment and work with what she is provided. She has no chance to voice out these feelings without upsetting her mother. 

As she reaches the sidewalk after going down from the footbridge, she waves her hand to signal an approaching jeepney she wants to ride. The vehicle stops, allowing her to get in and find a seat just in time before the light goes green again. 

It’s going to be a two-hour commute going home.

[klainepolls]

unexpected- day 2 of 7

by: @kurtsascot

day 1

POLL AT END RESOLVES COFFEE FIASCO

———

It’s Kurt Hummel.

Blaine doesn’t know much about Kurt, but he’d recognize him anywhere- He has spent the better part of his junior year pining for the guy, and their hypothetical love life has been an unrelenting rumination since last semester.

Granted, the admiration is embarrassingly one-sided. As a teaching assistant, Kurt rarely steered conversations away from the course material, and their one-on-one talks were wholeheartedly unremarkable. It’s unlikely that Blaine made a lasting impression- Kurt probably doesn’t even remember him.

It’s not like Blaine wanted his crush to be noticed last semester anyway. He didn’t want class to turn awkward or to make things weird or to make Kurt uncomfortable, so he forced himself to maintain some distance.

After finals, Blaine figured he’d never see Kurt again. NYU has so many majors and classes, and New York City is even more expansive- the odds of seeing Kurt, and of having the opportunity to spark up conversation, were slim. He could have graduated. Or moved. Blaine knew that. Logically.

But, Blaine’s human and evidently masochistic.

He’s been fantasizing. Despite his better judgement, Blaine’s imagined every scenario, every way he could hypothetically run into Kurt. He’s daydreamed about how to best introduce himself. He’s planned how he could, theoretically, convince Kurt to like him back. He knows what he would do. You know, conceptually.

It’s different in the moment.

Blaine’s infatuation had begun to ease over winter break and with the hubbub of a new semester. Seeing Kurt in person throws him right back into the thick of it.

It’s terrifying.

As the seconds tick by, Blaine’s all the more aware of how unprepared he is to talk to Kurt and propose something more.

He’s never been this close to Kurt. He’s close enough to pick up on the faint freckles on his nose, to see the individual strands of his hair, to feel his breath on his face-

The longer Blaine stares, the more incoherent he feels, and the more certain he is that he’s going to blow this.

He might have already blown it. Kurt is covered in his boiling coffee, after all.

…Shit.

“It’s fine,” Kurt says, shaking his head. He sounds a little annoyed, but not mad, and Blaine’s going to take that as a win. “Honestly, this is just my luck,” he mumbles, taking a step back, and Blaine resists the urge to chase his warmth. “I don’t need to be anywhere this early- I should’ve just slept in.”

Blaine waves his coffee soaked hands in front of his face. “No, No. This is my fault. Really. I wasn’t paying attention- I was running late.” His hands are still burning- Blaine pulls off his mittens, wincing as his reddened palms meet the cold January air, and then, tragically, he becomes all the more aware that Kurt has skin under his dress shirt, and that he’s probably in pain too. “Are you okay?”

A small smile. It doesn’t reach Kurt’s eyes. He’s holding back because of course he is- he doesn’t know Blaine. Not really. “It’s cold enough out here that getting drenched in your coffee is kind of nice,” Kurt says through a laugh that bubbles. “Thanks for asking.”

Kurt cranes his neck down and pulls his shirt away from his chest, inspecting the stain.

Coffee’s everywhere, and Blaine knows his designers- Kurt’s got on a Vivienne Westwood button down. He groans. “I’m sorry,” he uselessly repeats. “I’m not normally this distracted, I swear. Is it ruined?” He isn’t above buying Kurt a replacement, but he doubts that a replica is in his price range.

Kurt tsks, playfully offended. “Please. I’ve rescued clothes with far worse staining. It’ll be fine.”

Blaine’s worry melts away and he finds himself laughing and maybe smiling a bit too wide. “I didn’t mean to doubt you. My apologies.”

“You’re forgiven,” Kurt acquiesces and smiles back. He scrunches his nose and he points behind Blaine’s shoulder, into the coffee shop. “But, can I squeeze past? I am getting stickier by the second-“ He lets out a purposefully dramatic sigh. “I think I’m going to have to face my fears and brave a New York City public restroom.”

Blaine laughs again, but his smile falters, and he worries his lip between his teeth.

God. He doesn’t want this interaction to be over. He doesn’t want Kurt to leave. He needs more time.

As Kurt starts to step around him, Blaine blocks his path.

“Wait-”