#maybe i’ll find jeg i can try

[calamitoustide]

i have been absolutely spoiled by the established relationship tag you mean i can just have them happy and in love right now? yes give it to me right now i don’t care what im missing give me the established relationship

[kaunis-sielu]

Schoolyard: 9

It’s fun watching Thor work. He charms and chats with people, making them feel important and listening to their suggestions. You know that you’re just eye candy here, but when one man starts talking about vaccines and how ineffective they are you can’t stay quiet,

“I mean herd immunity right?” He says with a laugh.

“Actually, herd immunity should only be used in cases where a person physically cannot get immunized due to other health conditions. It shouldn’t be used just because someone doesn’t want to get an immunization.” The man laughs uncomfortably then gives Thor what you assume is his attempt at a charming smile.

“It’s like she’s a doctor or something.” He laughs and Thor looks coldly down at the other man.

“Mr. Pierce, my wife is a doctor.” He says shortly.

“W-wife?” Mr. Pierce says looking embarrassed.

“What kind of doctor are you?” T’Challa, the King of Wakanda and a friend of Thor’s asks.

“Pediatric. I just worked my last few days for a while but plan on getting back to it when I can.”

“Being Queen is a lot of responsibility.” T’Challa’s wife Nakia says, “it takes dedication to have a job outside of that but it’s possible.”

“I don’t need full time, just something to make me feel like I’m doing something good with my time.”

“I understand completely.” She says with a kind smile. You’ve got a feeling that you and Nakia are going to be good friends.

The rest of the night goes smoothly, although it seems that Mr. Pierce has a big mouth because several people come and congratulate you and Thor on your marriage. Some even seem a bit put out that they weren’t invited to the wedding. Neither of you give them any answers, you still don’t know how this conversation is going to go but you’d rather keep quiet until you can get it out of the way.

You step out for a moment, just needing a second alone, well with Bryn on your six, for a minute. Frigga was right, when you’re not in the crowded room it’s chilly and the little gauze fabric isn’t really enough. You’re looking over the pediatric wing when the soft material is draped over your shoulders.

“Elskede.”

“Thank you, krigeren min.” He smiles at the nickname.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, it’s just a lot. Now everyone knows that we’re married and I don’t know how I feel about any of this.”

“I know it’s a lot, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have called you my wife but I lost my temper.”

“Ah, so you’re not perfect.” You tease and he laughs.

“No, and if you ever need reminders just ask Loki. They will tell you.”

“Yes they will.” You agree with a little smile.

“We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

“One more glass of champagne? I’d like to say goodbye to Nakia and T’Challa too.”

“Of course. We have an open invite to go and visit them if you’d like.”

“That would be wonderful. I’ve heard Wakanda is incredible.”

“One of my favorite places to go.” He agrees as you turn and walk back toward the party. You slip your hand into his as you walk, it’s so natural now to just be touching him. When you get back into the room one of the men gives you a look that you don’t like then approaches.

“Excuse me. I read that you were cheating on the Crown Prince with people in the States. Is that true?” You stare at him, surprise on your face.

“Volstagg. Remove this man.” Thor orders, his deep voice carrying causing several people to look, “I will not allow such disrespect.” Volstagg hurries the man away from you.

“I’d like to go.” You say softly and Thor nods. He gives T’Challa a handshake and you and Nakia hug then he places a protective hand on your lower back and guides you out of the building. While you wait for the car Thor takes your hand and gives it a little squeeze.

“Don’t pay him any mind Elskede.” He says when you look up at him.

“It’s hard not to. I know what he said isn’t true but it still makes me look bad.”

“Min dronning,” he practically rumbles the words, “how can I make it better?”

“Just, let me process this okay? Be patient with me?”

“Of course.” He agrees pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. God he makes you weak in the knees. You follow Bryn down the the car then curl into Thor on the drive home. He keeps an arm around you as you ride back to the house, neither of you say much, he just trails his fingers up and down your arm.

When you get back you say goodnight to Sif and Volstagg then head to your room. Before you can get there you run into Odin.

“Father? You should be resting.”

“I’m fine. I need to speak to you.”

“I’ll leave you alone.” You tell them before pressing a soft kiss to Thor’s cheek.

“No, both of you.” Odin says gesturing for the two of you to follow him back to his rooms. Once you’re there he points at the seat for you to sit.

“I’ve come to a decision.”

“About what father?” Thor asks and when you look at him he looks as puzzled as you feel.

“I’m going to abdicate the throne to you.”

“Yes, father we’ve talked about this. After we get our annulment I’ll take the throne.” Thor says and you’re surprised, you had no idea this was happening.

“No, I’m abdicating in two days.” You gasp and Thor cries,

“What?” As Odin holds up a hand to silence you both.

“I have less than six months to live. The doctor told your mother and I tonight. I still have things I need to teach you but the best way to do so is with you as King. Besides, I want to live the remainder of my time with my wife. Being an old married couple.”

“Father-.”

“Thor, my Son. My first born and my heir, I know this isn’t what you wanted or had planned but this is what needs to happen.”

“This isn’t what the plan was!”

“I know.” Odin is calm but Thor is anything but. He storms out of the room and you’re left sitting there with Odin. He goes to follow him when you stand,

“I’ve got this. Please, rest, give yourself as much time as you can with them.” You tell him and he gives you a tight smile before you follow Thor out the door nearly crashing into his sibling. “Loki?”

“I saw him leave, I know where he will go and I’ll bring you there but you can’t tell him it was me.”

“Why?”

“Just in case he’s mad, he won’t get mad at you like he will me.”

“Deal.” You tell them and they lead you away from Odin’s room. “Do you know what Odin spoke to him about?”

“Yes, father is abdicating. We don’t have much time left with our father do we?” Loki asks softly as the two of you move quickly through the palace.

“There are some things we can try, but they won’t cure him. Just give him more time. I’m sorry.” Loki nods once, they don’t say anything until they stop before a short corridor with a tapestry hanging in it. They move the tapestry to one side and you see another small hallway.

“He should be in there, left hand door way at the end of the hallway.”

“Thank you Loki.” You tell them giving their hand a squeeze. Sure enough you find Thor storming back and forth in the small room. You don’t say anything, he throws a bottle across the room where it shatters into pieces, then sinks down onto the older couch in the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry.” He says gruffly and you move slowly into the room. You step in between his legs and he wraps his arms around you. He takes a deep shuddering breath and you rest one hand on his shoulder and card the fingers of your other hand through his hair.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” You assure him softly, it’s then his shoulders begin to shake and soft sobs escape him. You let him cry against you, just carding your fingers through his hair.

“I’m not ready.” He says, his voice thick.

“You’re not ready for what?”

“To lose my father.”

“Oh Honey.” You soothe, that’s what this is all about. You thought maybe he was upset about having to become King too soon, or not having time to annul your marriage before doing so, but that’s not it. This is about a boy being afraid to lose his father. “You still have time min kjærlighet, there are things we can try. I’m not making promises that they’ll work but we can try.”

“Thank you.” He says into your torso, before falling silent again. When he speaks again it’s in a much more steady voice, “Did Loki bring you here?”

“I am not supposed to confirm or deny that.” He gives a small huff of a laugh.

“I’m glad they did.” He’s quiet again before he says softly, “Jeg elsker deg.”

Tag list:

@abschaffer2 @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @thesassmisstress @eralen @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @killcomet @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @valsworldofcreativity @gaitwae @blackwidownat2814

[cosmiclatte28]

Guilty Pleasure (Yuta x reader)

A/n : hey i finished my term #yay! now i'll rush all my WIP. wish me luck

warning : one night stand, don't copy this and yeah suggestive soft smut KINDA SMUT (?) JUST DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SIN :D

tagging @yutahoes :p

network @supermwritersnet @multifandomnet

“It’s just one night, come on don’t worry. I can’t book you any other hotel.” your brother explains to you from the call on why he booked you a room that’s like an old motel. “I saw the room and it’s nice. It looks like a regular hotel, just that they named it motel, maybe because they have the parking spot in front of the rooms.” Taeyong tries to explain and reassures you he booked you a decent place to stay and nothing shady. You nod and just bring yourself to the office which is just a locket. You sigh “Hello, I’m here for my reservation.” you forced a smile to the lady behind the glass window.

“Hello, may I have your ID and card?” she asks you nicely to which you gladly do so. She’s quick in checking you in and making the payment. After returning your card and ID she hands you over two card keys.

“Your room will be number 217 and please take that stairs to your room. Have a nice stay.” she disappears and lets you go with the keys.

You bring your suitcase along with you, just one night and tomorrow you’ll take the bus to meet your brother. You shrug off the odd feeling of climbing the staircase. This sure is something you’ve seen in an old Hollywood movie.

With determination you find your room and pluck in your card only to see the light turns red and you try to open the handle several times but it doesn’t budge. One glance over the room number and to the paper the lady gave you. It’s the same room!

There’s a voice and suddenly someone appears unlocking the door and you’re taken aback.

“Excuse me?” he asks in a deep voice while peeking from the door.

You gulp, and look at your keys “Um is this room 217?”

He nods and steps to the gap and opens the door a little bit more. “Yes this is 217 and I am staying here.” he tucks his hands into his pocket, his trained biceps showing off from his tank.

You give him a meek smile “Um the lady downstairs gave me this room.” you show him the number and he frowns “Looks like she gave you the wrong number.”

You gasp “Alright, I’ll ask her. Once again sorry.” you apologize before finally going back down the stairs with your stuff and groaning when you arrive on the locket.

“Hello, I got this room and someone is inside.” you try to hold your chuckle, well at least that someone is hot and is not creepy.

“Okay sorry, there you go,” the guy slips back a new card for you “Room 218”

You thank him and go back to the same floor. Huh just the room next to the one earlier.

“Hey, did you get the room?” the 217 guy suddenly pops his head out when he hears you back.

You’re surprised how he knows you’ve come back.

“Yup, they gave me a wrong number. Sorry.” you push your luggage inside the room while stil maintaining eye contact with the stranger.

“Staying the night?” he asks slowly, afraid that he sounds impolite.

You nod “Just for a night, what about you?” you ask back. A simple conversation won’t be dangerous right?

He leans on his door frame, tank and sweatpants showing he’s been relaxing for a while here.

“Yup. I have to transit to the town nearby and my pick up will come tomorrow.”

You nod “Cool,”

“Yeah. Um I don’t mean to be rude but do you want to look for something to eat?” he rubs his neck shyly and you smile “I don’t have a plan tonight so yeah I could go for dinner with you.”

He returns a minute later with a pair of jeans and shirt, casual but trendy and you keep your current clothes on, just jeggings with a comfortable tee.

“Sorry, I only have these clothes for my business trip.” he locks his door and pockets the key.

You laugh “No worries, I get it. It’s either formal or something you wore to bed.” he clicks his tongue “You got that.”

The two of you start talking as you both take the stairs down.

“So what’s your name?” he asks when you’re already on the road ready to cross the street.

“(Y/n), what about you?” you ask looking at him and oh god he is handsome.

He smiles trying to repeat your name “(Y/n), sounds so good in my tongue. I’m yuta, nice to meet you.” he glances at you and realizes the small blush on your cheeks.

“Business trip too?” he asks and you shake your head “No, just here to stay the night and take a bus to my brother tomorrow.”

He offers a restaurant nearby and you agree. Both of you take a seat and choose a menu.

“Do you drink wine?” you ask, somehow feeling like opening a bottle tonight because you’re tired from the job you have and summer break is finally starting for you.

Yuta nods “I’d love that.”

So both of you end up talking more and more over pasta and wine. It’s a nice dinner. Yuta is a gentleman and he’s working in the entertainment industry. No wonder he dresses like that and looks like a snacc.

The night grows deeper and both of you finish the bottle of wine. Suddenly the talk becomes intimate more like you checking on him if he is single and he sure is not committed to anyone at the moment. Work doesn’t let him have time to dote a woman.

“I’m also free,” you wink and smirk when your foot under the table slowly traces his strong legs. Yuta gulps and smiles calmly “Look who’s drunk and naughty.” he whispers and you grin “I am not drunk.”

Yuta laughs from how red your face is, he’s sure you’re almost drunk.

“Let me get the bill and we can continue this, say my room or yours?” he asks after calling the waiter for a bill.

He paid for the dinner even when you insist on paying, he said “It’s on my company don’t worry.”

You stand up from your chair, feet not sensing the ground and oh boy you realize you are tipsy.

“Hold me.” you take his hand and grip on him as he helps you walk back to the hotel.

Once both of you arrive you whisper to his ear “My room.”

He nods, agreeing that his room is still messy from his working papers and your room is still untouched.

With one simple look and a lip bite, Yuta pushes you to the bed and claims you then and there. The kiss is passionate and hot, something about the way he still keeps the tempo moderate makes you frustrated that he is playing the game slowly.

“Faster,” you beg but he keeps taking his time, enjoying your lusty look and teasing you.

“No regrets?” he asks before taking you then and there. You groan “Yes just do it Yuta.” you stifle back a moan when he finally enters you.

You’re sure the neighbors can hear you, luckily the room next to you is only Yuta’s and the other one is the stairs. Both of you are over the moon and after going down the high several times and your energy drained, he has you covered under the blanket.

You snuggle close to him “I’m sticky.”

He rubs your shoulder softly and kisses your head “Shower?”

You nod and close your eyes, tired of the fun but still wanting to shower.

Yuta extends his arm to take a pillow and puts it under your head “I’ll make a warm bath for you.”

You just nod, head already gone to dreamland and moments later you feel a strong arm picking you up and you feel the hot water touch your skin.

He lowers you slowly to the bubble bath, surprised that he has a bubble bath with him for a business trip because you don’t have one right now.

“Come here.” you moan in delight when you sink yourself more to the hot water.

Yuta giggles and slowly enters the small tub. It’s full with some water leaving the tub because both of you occupied more volume.

He calmly massages your tense shoulder and you feel yourself more drowsy. “I might fall asleep.”

He chuckles “Don’t worry I got you.” He grabs a bottle of soap and begins leathering you with the liquid, and soon after you’re clean and ready to sleep.

You shimmy into your underwear and hide under the blanket once he is done putting on his sweatpants. Suddenly you’re sobering up and you blush when you remember what you just did.

“That was so nice.” you shyly admit and Yuta smirks “You’re this shy when you were wild five minutes ago.”

You pout “Yak keep this a secret.”

He ruffles your hair “It’s a secret as long as I can meet you again someday. I want to know you more.”

You smile “I’ll leave my number by the morning. I have to catch my bus good night Yuta.” you drive off to bed and the next morning, you’ve seen your room empty. He must’ve returned to do some more work like he said at dinner.

You take a notepad you have in your bag and quickly scribble your number and after packing your stuff you slide it under the door. You smile one more time at the room number, what a meeting.

--

“(Y/n) how dare you not give me any update! How was the hotel?” your brother asks you once you’re seated on the bus and already on the way to meet him.

“It was nice Taeyong, sorry I got too tired and slept.” you lied but he buys it.

“Glad to hear that. Nothing bad happens right?” He sounds worried .

You smile when you see the text message from Yuta. “Yeah nothing bad. Okay I’ll see you soon.” you end the call and reply Yuta back.

The five hours ride doesn’t feel long at all because both you and Yuta are busy texting each other random things.

That’s one guilty pleasure with a random hottie and you wish you’ll meet him again someday.

end

[monasims]

The Ultimate Resource for Accessory Clothes*

*This is literally never going to be absolutely complete

Behold, my second highest maintenance masterlist. First and foremost, big shoutout to @waywardprincessmia! Mia most likely found a good 50% of the male frame and unisex items, and a expanded a number of categories. She’s been immensely helpful, and she’s starting to make her own cc so please check her out!

Now, that aside, what is this? Well, it’s a massive (I’m guessing a bit over 300 entries) list of accessory clothes. There is a pretty heavy focus on jackets and shirts, but there’s some other odds and ends that aren’t easily categorized like belts, bags, suspenders, skirts, jeggings/pants, and even more. Like the other lists it’s broken up by frame, then by category. Because I cannot go through and test all 300 things, they are not tagged by what actual in-game category they show up in. Sometimes the creator includes that, and sometimes they don’t, so unfortunately I can’t help you there. I also cannot guarantee that everything on this list is still working, and I also can’t offer any support in that regard. I’ll put some more helpful notes below the cut but, I hope that some of you find this useful. 

Note! I am a curator, not a creator! Please give attention to the actual creators, from liking and relogging their posts to leaving them a donation!

If you are a creator and you do not want your cc on my list please contact me, I asked around and was assured this was appropriate to post but I want to respect your wishes.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1OcW9whh0-ok6v8N33VSmBsOR4MgkAVEQWZ17g4u7IlE/edit?usp=sharing

1. I don’t have plans to include things that already have categories such as hats, gloves, socks, leggings, and stockings. The acc bottoms here are just because they’re very unusual - otherwise I think these things are pretty easy to find. Also probably not going to cover scarves here. I may, may, do another list that is all the small item unusual acc like headphones, scarves, masks, veils, ext. Maybe.

2. Please update me if a link breaks. Also, while I generally only note the first dl link the creator provides, it is worth actually checking their post to see if there is a backup, esp if simsfileshare is down.

3. As a general rule, unless the creator has restricted the frame in the cc creator, you very much can use female accessory shirt on male frame sims, I do it all the time. There can be warping and seams, but otherwise it works great.

4. I try to use good descriptions so utilize control f to look for specific keywords, if there’s something in particular you’re looking for. 

5. I will update this from time to time, but I really want to focus on other projects and I already need to manage the Supernatural Masterpost that breaks every other update, so it’s...going to be sporadic. Sort of the best I can do. 

[little-murmaider]

@cthene @squeeto and @failedintsave have written three distinct flavors of Skwistok Apocalypse Fic and they all live in my head rent free so I felt like doing a lil end-of-the-world scene. (If a modified version of this pops up in the Stay Alive sequel that doesn’t exist shh shh shh shut up ❤️) 

The bunker didn’t offer much in the way of creature comforts. A holdover from the Cold War, it was 1500 square feet of steel buried beneath four stories of cement. There were suggestions it had been built for a group, but there was only one bed—a twin cot that only Pickles could fit on comfortably, though Toki made due if he tucked in his knees. The bar and the armory were fully stocked. A connection to the outside world was available via a 360-degree live feed of the surface, visible from a claustrophobic surveillance room. It wasn’t impenetrable, but it was a lucky find. And until they received marching orders from Offdensen, it was home. The only spray of color amongst the sterility was a faded, amateur mural canvasing the entirety of the southwest wall. A panorama of the snowy, mountainous Montana landscape. The proportions are all out of wack: Distant trees and prominent foreground boulders seem to have the same weight and dimension. Toki sits on the floor opposite it, eyes fixed on the blobby bug-eyed buffalo grazing the sorta serene-ish tableau. He thinks of the person who painted this. How they were probably really proud of it. How making it probably brought them some form of peace. How they were long dead. The despair makes him nauseous.  Skwisgaar is curled in the space between Toki’s legs, head resting on his chest, arms wound lightly around his waist. They all agreed to take turns “keeping watch” in the surveillance room.  But everyone was on-edge, everyone was scared, everyone was a little too focused on their own anxiety to notice how deftly Skwisgaar switched shifts. His impulse to assuage the others often tipped into the unhealthy territory but in the last few weeks it had made a full tilt into self-destruction. He’d been holed up in that room, delirious with sleep deprivation, for almost two days days before Toki caught on. He was only convinced to leave when Toki started crying. (He’s not proud of that tactic, but hey, it’s the end of the world. Lots of people are doing lots of things they’re not proud of.) As he idly plays with the ends of Skwisgaar’s hair, Toki hears the echo of footfalls drawing near. They’re so swift, so light, Toki knows exactly who it is well before the worn sneakers appear in his periphery. “Hey,” Pickles says. “Heys,” Toki answers. A half-empty handle of vodka dangles from Pickles’s fingers. He tips his chin at Skwisgaar’s sleeping form. “Why doncha take th’bed?” “Nathan’s using its.” Pickles nods and takes a long pull from his drink. A beat passes.  “…That buffahlo is pretty fucked up, huh?” “I can’ts stops looking at its.” “I’ve never SEEN a buffahlo in real life but I’m,” he pauses, squinting to calculate, “73 percent sure they don’ look like that.” “Onlys 73 per-cents?”  Pickles shrugs. “I mean, hey, maybe buffahlos look exactly like that, I dunno whut I dunno.” Toki’s silent laughter shakes him. But then a muffled moan vibrates against his collarbone. “Toki?” He murmurs, sluggishly starting to rise. He code-switches on instinct. To answer in English, with an audience, is too raw. “Jeg er her.” He cups the base of Skwisgaar’s skull and guides him back to his chest. “Gå tilbake til sengs.” Skwisgaar’s hold tightens. “Lämna mig inte.” “Aldri, elskede.”  He settles against him and sighs. “Tack, älskling.”  Skwisgaar’s weight sinks into him, and after a few moments his muscles relax as his breathing falls into a slow, even rhythm. Again, it is quiet. “Whut does it mean?” Oh right Pickles is here. “Whats?” “Th’ e word and th’ a word you guys use fer each other.” Toki freezes. “At least I think they start wit’ an e and an a, I can’t be bothered t’ look up th’ spellin’ in that elven language  a’yours.” He smiles crookedly but his eyes glass over. “That and we’re 40 feet underground and th’ internet doesn’t exist anymore.” “You’ve heards us says dat?” “Dood ya do it all’a time. I may naht know what yer sayin’ but I’m pretty good at pickin’ up patterns.”  He taps out an invisible rim shot, hissing the cymbal crash as he winks. Toki briefly considers lying. But he knows it’s a waste—Pickles is primed to hacksaw through all his bullshit. “It don’ts...translates, exactly, into English.” He waits a moment to see if Pickles accepts this as an adequate explanation. He doesn’t. Toki continues shakily: “Wells, it does but nots, um, de emotion…” He scrunches his nose and starts over. “Yous don’ts use it for everybodies, yous supposed to saves it for somebody who’s really…” Sighing, he thumbs Skwisgaar’s shoulderblade like it’s a lucky talisman. “I don’ts know whens we starts doesing it.” “A while ago, dood.” Oh.

“Oh. Um. Wells.” Heat rises to his cheeks. “Elskede in Norweigian means,” he winces, “beloved, and älskling ams kinds of de ex-quibbi-kent in Swedish buts it means, uh.” He tucks his chin to his chest and shields his eyes in embarrassment. “It means darling buts you don’ts use its de way you does ins English, it’s, um...” His thumb and middle and index finger squeeze into his eye sockets so hard stars flash across his vision.  “...It’s somet’ings you use for de poirson what ams most specials to yous, likes de poirson you mights maybe marry one days wowee saysing all dis outs loud makes me feel real stupids cans I please stops?” “Okey okey.” When Toki opens his eyes he sees Pickles waving his hands like he’s trying to break up a bad smell. “Asked an’ answered.” The tips of Toki’s ears burn, a shameful sludge spreading thickly behind his sternum. He tips his head back, skull thunking dully against the wall. “Don’ts tell de guys abouts dis, Skwisgaar will nevers forgive mes.” “Nah, dood, don’ worry, this stays in th’ vault.” The drone of the overhead fluorescent lights and the muted thrum of generators thrums like locusts. Skwisgaar inhales deeply, exhales sharply, and nestles closer. Toki’s gaze darts about the terrible mural, searching for something to latch to, but his focus swings as if by gravitational pull back to Pickles’s face. When he at last resolves to glance up at him, he’s braced for ridicule. But when he does, his tension deflates. Pickles doesn’t look like he’s about to make fun of him. Pickles looks like...Toki doesn’t know what Pickles looks like. “Whats dat face?” Pickles’s smile widens, head cocking to the side. “Stops dat! What’s dat face!” “What face! There’s no face! I don’ even have a face!” He bites his lower lip, muffling a chuckle. “Awright bud, I’m naht gunna lie, me and these other dooshbeegs have had our suspicions about the, errrr aaaah...” He cinches one eye shut. “...Nature of yer relationship. But none’a us suspected you guys were, y’know…” He rolls the wrist holding the vodka, liquid splashing to the floor. Toki stares at him questioningly. “...Fully in it.” Toki blinks. “In whats?” Pickles pinches his lips and squints as if to say, come on dude, but doesn’t press further. “Welp.” He kicks backwards to push himself off the wall and stand upright. “It’s almost sunrise. Or sunset, I dunno, this steel box has really fucked up my internal clahck. But I’m gonna watch th’ sun do somethin’ wit’ Murderface until my shift on watch.” He pivots to face the long corridor leading to the surveillance room. I’ll see ya around.” He pauses. He points a finger in the air, draws a small circle, and glances over his shoulder with a small smile. “Abviously.”  He’s gone as quickly as he arrived. Toki’s attention returns to the mural. The staticky grasslands. The angular mountains. The flat plane of the lake. Toki’s not an art guy but he knows this is bad. Still, it moves him. He doesn’t understand why. Maybe he doesn’t have to. He and Skwisgaar have always talked around it. They’ve always had an understanding, leaving little secrets and codes for the other to crack. They did, mostly. It’s the same, mostly. But it’s the end of the world and Toki needs to say it out loud. He buries his face in that soft golden crown and whispers, “I loves you.” “I loves you, too,” is the sleepy reply.  He was wrong. It’s different. It’s better.  “Is likes Pickle says.” He pushes himself up to press his lips to Toki’s neck. “We’s fully ins it.”

[squishneedsahero]

Jeg Elsker Deg For Alltid

The Earth Shaker

Part 6 of ?

Word Count: 1497

Loki x Reader

Just a 2012 style avengers fanfic that is Loki x Reader. Sometime you just need cute fluff that is absolutely nothing more than self indulgence.

You and Loki grow close again, you slowly get him to let down the walls he had build over 700 years apart. It's been a month or so since the last time he had even stepped foot in his cell, he had been at the tower for nearly a year, and you had tried talking Tony into providing a room across the hall from you for Loki but he wasn't convinced.

Tony became even less convinced when he had walked in on you kissing Loki, on the cheek mind you, so you had started letting Loki stay in your room with you. He was hesitant, and you provided a bed you had stolen from elsewhere in the tower for him, yes the two of you were getting closer but you didn't want to force yourself on him.

It was a long process of two steps forward one step back with him. The thing that had been more than a single step back was when Thor finally caught on to the fact that the two of you had been more than friends. Thor wouldn't leave the two of you alone and Loki went back into his shell. Oblivious Thor, as oblivious as he'd always been.

Anyways tonight you'd been woken up by the sounds of him tossing and turning in the next room of your suite. "Loki?" You ask gently as you approach him, "Loki, it just a dream," you softly set your hand his arm to try and wake him.

He jumps awake, a dagger appearing in his hand as he turns to face you.

You take a step back and raise your hands in front of you, "Loki, it's just me. You were having a nightmare-"

You're cut off by him putting his arms around your waist and tugging you down so he can rest his head in the crook of your neck. You hesitantly wrap your arms around him and let one of your hands rest on the back of his head, "shh, it's alright, I've got you-"

He isn't crying, he still doesn't like to do that around anyone and refuses to do so. But his arms stay tightly around you as though you'd disappear if he loosened his grip. "Thank you Fayl," he says gently when he finally loosens his grip and leans back to look at you.

You bring your hand to caress his cheek, "of course, I'll always be here for you when you need me."

He looks at you and hugs you more tightly after a moment, "I know," he pauses a moment, "love," he says.

You lean back to look at him, making sure you had heard right, that he had really used the pet name he had given you. "Lo?" You ask softly, using your pet name for him.

"Fayl, I-" he trails off and purses his lips as he looks away from you. You gently take his cheek and turn him to face you once again, staying silent. It's a minute or so before he speaks again, "I love you, I keep pushing you away and you won't leave- I can't deny it anymore, I love you."

You look at him, your gaze softening more if that is even possible. "Being stubborn and steady is kind of my thing, Lo." You laugh gently and pause a moment before chastely kissing his lips, "I've loved you for a thousand years and I'm not going to stop anytime soon."

There's a pause before he pulls you into another kiss then he asks, "stay with me tonight?"

You purse your lips, "my bed is bigger, how about you stay with me?"

He nods and you don't wait to pull him up with you and drag him back to your bed. You make sure he's comfortable and climb in next to him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close to you. As you hold him he shifts in your arms, able to relax and get back to sleep as you act as the big spoon for him. Both of you get back to sleep, staying close through the rest of the night.

When you wake up your face is buried in his long, dark, hair. You can't help it, your arms tighten around his waist and put your face against his neck as fig breathe in his scent. You'd missed this so much, you'd missed your Loki, and now it finally seemed you had him back.

Loki shifts in your arms, rolling over to face you and he tiredly pressed a kiss to your lips, "morning love." He then looks down before looking back at you, a slight blush coming to his cheeks.

You glance down as well, and realize why he- or rather she was blushing. Loki had switched to her female form at some point during the night, but she was blushing because when he had fallen asleep he had been shirtless and now she was shirtless.

You look back up and look into her eyes, "good morning Lo, you're looking as beautiful as ever this morning."

She relaxes at this, "thank you Fayl, my love."

You smile and brush her hair out of her face, "of course, you're beautiful no matter the form you choose to take." You press a gentle kiss to her nose, "would you like to get dressed, I won't look."

She blushes a deeper shade of red, her guard fully down at this point. "I think I am fine right here, if you'll have me," she says in a low tone.

"Of course I'll have you."

She smiles and lets her hand slip up your shirt to rest on your hip. She then tugs you tighter against her, "I think I'm finally going to take you up on that my love. I regretted not believing you 700 years ago, wondering if it was my pushing you away that caused you to betray Asgard and lead to your death, I don't want to loose anymore time I could be spending with you."

You smile, "that's so sweet, my Loki. I don't care that it took this long, as long as I have you." You pull her into a more passionate kiss than the ones you had previously shared. "If you will have me then I am never letting you go, I will be your rock and your anchor, no one will take you away from me."

"Even if Odin were to find out?" She asks.

"I would be banished to the farthest reaches of the universe if it means that I can have you," you promise her.

She stares into your eyes and brushes your hair back, obviously touched by your proclamation. She opens her mouth to say something before closing it again, for once in her life, at a loss for words.

You smile at her as she tries to get words out, before finally saying, "got you speechless, my Silvertongue?" With that you pull her into a passionate kiss which she returns.

Hours are spend in bed together, kissing, cuddling and maybe more. Finally and truly reconnecting and confirming your love for each other after centuries apart.

At some point she produces your bracelet from thin air, your lovelock, and she ties it back around your wrist. Loki smiles gently at you and you smile back, "I trust that you want that back?"

"Of course I do my Lo, it was my one piece of you that I was able to keep close." You card your fingers back through her long dark hair, "if you'd like me to replace the one you lost I'd be willing too," you offer. She no longer had the lovelock you had given her all those years ago, you'd never mentioned it, never asked what she had done with it, but if she wanted another you would gladly cut some of your hair for her.

"If you'd like too my dear," she responds softly. Your response is to sit up, pulling her up with you, where she keeps the sheets over her chest.

"Would you like to do the honors?" You ask and turn your back to her, allowing her to choose which strand of hair you would braid into her's. You feel her smoothly cut off a piece of your hair then you turn around once again to face her. When you do, she's holding two strands, one hers, and one yours. Your eyes widen, "Lo, why did you-"

You're cut off by her finger to your lips, "I thought you'd like to match." She gently turns you back around so she can braid her hair into yours. Once she has finished she hands you the lock she had taken from your hair and turns her back to you, allowing you to braid it into her hair.

Once you finish you let your arms settle around her midsection, and your chin rest on her shoulder. "I love you forever," you say gently into her neck.

[marvels-writings]

Tattoo Shyness

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch) Masterlist

Requested by Anon: Hi, could I ask for Wanda and R newly dating. Where R has many tattoos en her arms and ribs and nobody on the team knows (not even Wanda) about them because R had many problems being told by others that they are unprofessional so she’s always wearing long sleeves until one night where R is in the kitchen wearing a top and is showing most of them, then Wanda and Nat enter and are in shock but tell R that they are amazing and to not worry about what the others say. Also Wanda thinks they are sexy

Word Count: 1,653 (kinda long but fluffy and a lil suggestive;)

A/N: I loved writing this, honestly I don’t have tattoos, but the rose one featured in this i plan to get

“It’s almost 100 degrees, how are you wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt?” Natasha asked, walking into the living room with Wanda.

You were sitting on the couch wearing one of your favorite long-sleeved t-shirts, it was black with a gold mandala pattern, you’d paired it with black jeggings. Shrugging, you went back to your book and flipped a page.

“It’s comfy.” You answered, your girlfriend went behind the couch, positioning her hands on either side of you on the backrest of the couch.

“But it’s hot,” Wanda whined, you grinned up at her.

Still barely able to believe you were dating Wanda, the girl of your dreams, you couldn’t help the blush and the smile on your face whenever she was near you.

After meeting her as one of the medical students at the Avengers, you’d become close. Until Wanda finally got the courage to ask you out. Which was how you found yourself dating the Scarlet Witch for almost a month now.

“Not as hot as you,” You winked. Wanda’s face turned a bright red, she leaned down and kissed your forehead.

Natasha raised an eyebrow as both of you pulled away. You shrugged again, going back to your book as Wanda sat down next to you.

“I can’t believe you two have not had sex yet.” The redhead muttered, walking away from the couches to get some water for herself.

“Nat!” Wanda whisper shouted, knowing you were still insecure about yourself. Even though Wanda didn’t see you as anything but perfect, she wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

Rolling your eyes, you laughed nervously. Tugging your sleeves further down to hide the tattoos on your wrist. After putting your book on the table in front of you, you turned to face your girlfriend.

“How long are you gonna be gone?” You asked, tilting your head to the side curiously as you remembered her meeting later today.

“A few hours, I’ll be back before 7 though,” Wanda answered, leaning against the armrest of the couch so her feet were in your lap.

You giggled at the feeling of her cold feet in your lap. Reaching out, you massaged her feet.

“Are you planning anything special for dinner or can I join you?” Natasha asked, sitting on another couch.

“Just pizza and movies.” You answered, turning to look at Natasha. You shifted so your feet were rested on your girlfriends lap comfortably.

“Maybe a blanket fort.” Wanda winked, you raised an eyebrow.

“Not after what happened last time Wanda Maximoff.” You tickled her feet teasingly.

Wanda giggled, moving her feet away from your hands. You grinned at her and put her feet back in your lap, drawing mindless patterns on the tops of her feet.

“Do I want to know what happened last time?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wanda groaned, playfully kicking you in hope of stopping you. You shushed her before turning to face Natasha.

“The lovely Ms. Maximoff here,” You gestured to your girlfriend who was hiding her face in the couch cushions.

“made the blanket fort to the kitchen and left the gas on.”

Natasha started laughing, finding it hard to believe that Wanda would do something like that. Wanda noticed and glared at the redhead before turning to you.

“For food,” Wanda argued, crossing her arms across her chest stubbornly.

“You almost burnt the whole compound down you idiot.” You laughed, resting your hands on her ankles.

“Maybe, but I’m still your idiot.” Wanda winked, watching your face light up in a pink blush.

You turned to the couch cushions, trying to hide your blush. Your girlfriend giggled, crawling her way over to you and giving you a soft kiss on your lips.

——————————-

After Wanda had left for the meeting for the Avengers, you’d ordered food for the three of you. But, a notification on your phone told you the pizza was going to take another two hours since the delivery guy lost your pizzas somehow.

Instead of ordering another pizza, you decided to cook. The heat finally got to you, you changed out of the long-sleeved t-shirt and into a crop top Wanda had bought you on your third date. Deciding you would change when they came into the kitchen to protect your tattoos.

Music played from the speaker on the counter as you danced to the music, oblivious to the world around you. Mixing the pasta in the pot while humming the lyrics, you put one hand in the pocket of your sweatpants while swaying your hips to the music.

You didn’t notice Natasha and Wanda enter the room, chatting away. Your girlfriend stuttered on her response to Natasha, too dumbstruck with the way you were looking. There were tattoos of small quotes, symbols, and a large phoenix on your upper shoulder which were all revealed by your crop top.

Wanda couldn’t take her eyes off of you, the way you were swaying your hips to the music while cooking, the elaborate designs on your skin. You looked perfect.

Natasha noticed the witch stop in her tracks, she turned to see what had stopped her. Catching sight of you, she understood why Wanda was acting this way. Grinning, Natasha made her way towards the bar stools on the counter and slid onto one of them.

Wanda barely managed to snap out of her trance, too busy looking at you. Thankful you didn’t notice her staring, she walked over so she was standing next to Natasha. Eyes still taking in your tattoos and your appearance.

“I heard it wasn't anything special,” Natasha commented, grinning at you.

Finally noticing them, you turned around to see Natasha with a smug grin on her face. Wanda was standing next to her, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite read. Licking your lips nervously, you set down the spatula you’d been using.

“I-I, it isn’t,” You stuttered, trying to come out with a coherent sentence.

You glanced over at your girlfriend, her eyes still dark with an unreadable expression. Gulping you turned around, mind racing with possibilities of what she would think about you. Deep in your mind, you didn’t notice Wanda walking inside the kitchen and over to you.

Walking up behind you, she observed you as you mixed the pasta. When you set the spatula down, the witch touched the rose tattoo on your ribs with her index finger. The feeling of her cool fingers on your skin surprised you, you jerked away instantly with a loud squeal.

“Wanda!” You squealed when she touched another tattoo, a soft grin on her face.

Natasha laughed at your reaction, watching your interaction with Wanda. When she noticed the pasta start to burn, she made her way into the kitchen to help. Taking your hands, the witch guided you away from the stove so Natasha could help you.

“How come you never showed me these before?” Wanda whispered, trailing her cool fingers up your arms slowly. Your breath hitched, biting your tongue and trying to come up with a response.

“I just, um, other people told me that they looked,” You paused when Wanda gave you a blank look. With a sigh, you finished your sentence

“You know. Unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional?” Natasha blurted, your eyes widened and you turned around to look at her.

“You listen to what other people say?”

“A little,” You muttered, your chest constricted as you started to panic. 

Biting your lip to prevent your insecurities about your skin spilling out.

“Don’t, they look great,” Natasha assured, sitting down on her previous seat.

“Yeah, but….” You trailed off, unsure of what to say.

Sighing, you went to serve the three of you some drinks with the food. Wanda slid up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. The warm skin of her forearms against your stomach, breath hitching when her fingers started tracing the tattoos on your stomach

“You look gorgeous.” Your girlfriend murmured, leaning forwards and kissing the back of your neck.

You bit your tongue to try not to let out a sound at how soft she was being. It surprised you how easily Wanda had accepted your tattoos, even though you’d hidden them from her. Kissing the back of your neck again, she ran her finger against one of your tattoos.

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Natasha murmured, a grin on her face as she left.

You glanced at the pot of pasta, deciding you needed another few minutes before you were done. But Wanda’s fingers tracing your tattoos, her arms encircling your waist. Everything about her made it hard to focus.

“Wanda, I need to finish this.” You groaned, smiling to yourself, not wanting her to pull away.

“Later,” She kissed the back of your neck

“you look too good for me to leave you.”

“You think they look good?” You asked nervously, still scared she wouldn’t accept you for them.

Wanda shifted you so your front was facing hers, her arms wrapped around your waist. Your hands went up to her shoulders, resting there as you nervously tapped on her shoulder. The redhead smiled down at you, her finger running along the length of the rose tattoo on your ribs.

“Better than good,” Wanda murmured, her blue-green eyes glancing from your stomach and back up to you

“Better than good?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head to the side curiously.

“Let’s just say the top doesn’t leave much for the imagination,” Your girlfriend winked at you.

You gulped, your face lighting up in a blush. Wanda giggled, leaning forwards, pressing her lips to yours in a soft kiss. Melting into her, your breath hitched when her fingers continue to draw shapes on your stomach. Maybe being shy about your tattoos wasn’t all bad.

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver​, @versdan​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​, @lovebotlarson​, @dhengkt​, @5aftermidnight​, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @ophelias-heart​  , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere​, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn​ , @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ , @wlw-imaginesss​ , @hcartbyheart​​ , @summergeezburr​​ , @imnotasuperhero​  let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: Tell me what you think!

[murdersexual]

So Part II to LeoPika shopping headcanons?

And back by popular demand...

Murdersexual proudly presents...

🛍LeoPika Shopping Headcanons II🛍

🛍Clothing Shopping🛍

Leorio:

Typically shops in not too expensive places. 🤔

Has an eccentric fashion sense besides his usual fancy suits.

“Skinny jeans, crisp white tank top, converse and a beanie? Count me in!”

Typically goes inside Spencer’s just to drag the babe to the back-

“Maybe I should get some leather handcuffs for us? I mean you...~” 😈

In the fitting room? “Fuck these don’t fit...” 💢 *Door opens* “Oh? Let me see-“ “BYE KURAPIKA! GET OUT!”

Pandora or any Jewelry spot, he has to visit for specific ideas for Kurapika’s birthday, Valentine’s Day, Sweetens Day, or maybe just for a surprise. Let’s not forget Christmas and New Years.

“Buying more disguises?” 👀 “No, this is for our role plays...” 🤔 “Kurapika, I-“ 😳🤭

Leorio shops in places like F.Y.E, Hot Topic, Aeropostale, American Eagle, Foot Locker, Journeys, Zumies, Nike Factory and even Bath and Body Works. Don’t @ him, he likes multiple spots for his multiple aesthetics.

He’d occasionally visit Victoria’s Secret and Pink just to make small conversations with the pretty workers.

“I mean since you work here, does that mean you actually KNOW Victoria’s Secret or nah?”

Attracts a lot of horny college girls, guys and even Milfs.

“They’ve been following us for far too fucking long...” 💢💢💢 “Relax, Kurapika... I can’t help it that I’m a Sex Magnet~” 😏

The Food Court in the Mall is usually where you’ll find him if he’s lost. 😋

“Yeah, let me get that Vanilla Chai extra large with whipped cream and extra sweetener. Umm, I’ll take that blueberry muffin and a chocolate chip one. Thanks!” 😏

Intermission!

We’ll be right back!

Kurapika:

Typically shops in wherever he feels. Expensive or not. 🤔

His sense of style is very aesthetic without trying. Soft, Grunge, Bad Boy and so many more, he can pull it off!

“Aesthetic? Hmm... It’s usually whatever I’m feeling...” 🤔

Always has to have the pants and shirts first before he even thinks about buying his shoes.

“Now that I have my shirt and pants... I can finally find some shoes.” 🤔

Can’t find his size in men’s? Bet he’ll find something in the women’s.

“Why are you in the women’s section?!” 🤨 “Because I obviously couldn’t find anything in the men’s... Stop asking stupid questions, Leorio!” 😤

Bath and Body Works? He likes scents like Rosewater Meringue, Sweater Weather, Bonfire Bash, Japanese Cherry Blossom and so many more.

In the fitting rooms, he won’t hesitate to see how he looks from every angle. 🤔

“Hmm... these jeans are soft...~” 😏 “That’s because those aren’t jeans but jeggings...” 👀 “Leorio...” 💢

Hot Topic, Spencer’s, F.Y.E., H&M, Aeropostale, Old Navy, Zumies, Foot Locker, Journeys, Bath & Body Works, American Eagle, Burberry, Macy’s and Akira is his typical shopping areas.

Can’t find him? Try a coffee shop or a bookstore like Books-A-Million. Because obviously, texting or calling him won’t work. 😩

“Where the fuck have you been!? Oh never mind, should’ve known you’d be here...” 😒 “Here, hold these while I pick out more books...” ☺️📚

Everywhere he goes, there’s bound to be jealousy. It’s not his fault he’s so damn beautiful.

“She’s been staring at me every since we walked inside here... She must be pressed because of how pretty I am?” 🤔 “I think her boyfriend is looking that’s why... He better stop before he catches a remote punch...” 😤💢

Let’s give a round of applause!

For one helluva show!

Encore?

🛍🛍🛍

Happy Holidays to everyone! 🛍 I apologise for the absence and the long wait for my asks! 😩😩😩 I got caught up with learning Procreate, binging Yu Yu Hakusho for the 1 millionth time and drinking. 😏

[hockeyblogg]

age (ch.3) - f.andersen

Author’s Notes: Hey y’all, here’s the third part to Age, I really really hope this one is as good as the other two and that you all enjoy it. There will be a part 4, and I'm working on that one right now ! *not proofread*

Warnings: slight more angst. that’s it.

Freddie twirls your yellow scrunchie in his hand as he’s driving to Mitch’s to come and finally talk to you.

For the last two weeks he’s been dying to answer your calls and texts, wanting nothing more than to have you back in his arms, and even just back in his life. But every time he came as close to pressing the accept button, he always heard everyone’s voices in his head, nagging at him, telling him he wasn’t good enough.

He tried so hard to accept that fact, but as the days rolled by, he found himself finding the littlest things that connected to you.

A day after you left, he came back home to find you left your favourite wine in the fridge, and after seeing all of your things were gone, the bottle was as good as empty.

Three days after you left, he was in the living room, laying on his couch. But something kept poking his back and he couldn’t quite get comfortable, and as he pulled the object out of his couch, he quickly noticed that it was your old hairbrush that you lost. And he laughed at the memory of your eyes lighting up when he bought you the one you have now. You were always appreciative of the small gifts.

When the sixth day came by, it was only getting harder for Fred, they had another game that night and they lost. Fred doesn’t usually cry when the boys lose, because he always had you. Coming back to his apartment to see you weren’t there and was met with complete silence, he didn’t even take off his shoes before he kneels on the floor and lets the tears fall.

Freddie was a grown ass man who could make his own decisions, he told himself he could handle everything, he told himself that no one else mattered as long as you and he were happy, and he thought he could believe it to. Something snapped in him after your visit to your parents, your father’s words hit a nerve.

My daughter can do so much better than a washed up player like you.

Not only did he tell him he wasn’t good enough for his daughter, but he insulted his hockey skills too. Not that it was necessarily more important, but the term washed up was often used to describe a creepy old player who thought he could still play with the younger guys. Is that what you saw him as? Did you think it was a little weird for someone his age to be still playing?

It was almost as if your dad opened up his insecurities with just one sentence. Thirty isn’t that old, there’s players older than him that are still playing, but you know how insecurities are; complex and unnecessary. The most important thing in his life was you, and every day he was filled with fear that he was going to lose you. And now he had.

The only person he could think to call was his mom, so after calming down a bit, he grabs his phone from his pocket and clicks her contact.

Søn? (son?)

Hej mor (Hi mom)

Du ringer normalt ikke efter spil, hvad er der galt? (you don’t normally call after games, what’s wrong?)

Nå, vi tabte… (well, we lost…)

Åh jeg er ked af det søn, hvor er Y/N? (oh, I’m sorry son, where is Y/N?)

Det var det, jeg kaldte dig om, vi brød sammen... (that’s what I called you about, we broke up…)

And for the rest of that night he talked with his mom, who gave him a lot of advice and told him exactly what he needed to hear. He cried some more but his mother quickly shushed him, encouraging him that everything will work out. She told him that maybe this needed to happen, so that you and Fred would figure something out about one another that you needed to. They talked until it’s the early hours in the morning and she tells him to get some rest, bidding him a goodnight and a I love you my son, before hanging up.

Almost two weeks later, he’s in his bathroom searching for another razor, opening every drawer, and when he gets to the one way at the bottom, it used to be yours, he finds your favourite yellow scrunchie. He grabs it and smiles slightly at the reason behind it. Shaking his head, he stares at himself in the mirror, “What are you doing?” Sighing, he puts the scrunchie around wrist, and keeps it there.

The next day after practice, he sure as hell wasn’t expecting Mitch to blow up at him like that, but he didn’t blame him. He wasn’t angry at Mitch, he couldn’t be, he understood exactly where Mitch was coming from. Here he was, worrying about his own feelings towards everything and he didn’t even try to acknowledge yours. And that thought alone had him jumping into his car and following Mitch back to his place.

Mitch had just gotten home and him and Steph were in their room, getting ready to run to the grocery store, you sat on their couch, towel wrapped your head after just having a shower.

“Alright, we’ll be back soon, don’t tear this place apart.” Mitch teases and you throw one of the couch pillows at him, “See? This is what I mean.” He picks up the pillow and throws it back. You shake your head and laugh until there’s a knock on the door, “Come in!” Steph yells, going into the kitchen to grab her purse.

The door opens and you turn away to face the tv, nervously playing with the remote, and you hear him speak, “Can I talk to Y/N?” Mitch nods, “Yeah, Steph and I were just about to head out.” Speaking of, Steph walks back in but doesn’t say a word, just shoots a reassuring smile at Fred before her and Mitch leave.

Freddie takes his shoes off and slowly makes his way around the couch, sitting on the one opposite to you, “Y/N…” You don’t look up and Fred feels even more guilty, “You uhm, you forgot your favourite scrunchie.” You look up then, and stare at the yellow elastic in his hand, reaching your hand out, he comes and hands it to you, taking the seat next to you.

Fred speaks again, “Do you remember why it’s your favourite?” You nod, “It’s your favourite colour, Fred.” He smiles, “Not really.” You furrow your eyebrows and go to question him but he stops you, “You got this a day after our first year anniversary, because of the day before,” he grabs your hand, “On our first year anniversary, we were sat on the hood of my car, watching the sunset by the bridge. You decided it was a good idea to play twenty questions, so we did. On your tenth question, you asked me what my favourite colour was, saying that you didn’t know, and before I could answer you shouted at me to let you guess.”

Your tears are pooling in your eyes at the memory, how everything seemed so perfect then, when very few people knew about you two, you got to live your relationship without any judging eyes.

Fred sniffs but continues the story, “You thought for a second before yelling out the colour yellow, and just as I was about to correct you, I saw how hopeful your eyes looked, I saw how the golden colours from the sunset bounced off your skin, how the rays from the sun made it look like you had your very own halo on top your head, your eye colour just a little bit brighter and glossy that I could see myself in them, and how much love you held just by staring at me, and in that moment you looked like an angel, a soft, golden angel, and I couldn’t believe you were mine. I didn’t have a favourite colour, but I decided then, that yellow would be.”

You let out a sob and wrap your arms around his neck, and he wraps his around your middle. You both must have looked a mess, the both of you crying and falling apart in your friend’s living room.

Freddie pulls away but keeps your hands in his, “I’m sorry dronning, for everything, for breaking up with you, for not returning any of your calls, ignoring you, and most of all, not talking to you about how I was feeling. I hadn’t considered at all how you feel about all of this and for that I am so sorry, and you have every right to be angry and upset.” You shook your head at his words, “Fred, I should be the one who’s sorry, it wasn’t just your fault, I should have asked you how were you feeling, I should have been a shoulder to lean on, I should have supported you with all of this.”

You squeeze his hand in his, “We both are responsible, I guess we aren’t that good at communicating as we thought.” Fred chuckles at your words and nods his head, “No, but we can be. If you come back to me, I promise to always be honest with you, always talk to you, and always be there for you, if you let me.”

You both know there are somethings that are still left unsaid; your parents, the ring, whether or not you want to move back in. But for now, you just wanted to be held by him, to feel his strong arms wrapped around you and make you feel like nothing could ever hurt you. You can talk more later, right now you just want to rest.

“I’ll always come back to you.”

Mitch and Steph got back around an hour after you two talked, and when they walked in, they couldn’t help but awe at the sight of their two friends asleep on their couch, wrapped in each other’s arms and the faint sound of your steady breathing.

As quietly as they could, they bring in all their grocery bags and put them away, and Steph gets started on dinner.

You wake up to the faint smell of spaghetti and the sound of dishes clanking together. You stretch out and notice that Freddie isn’t with you anymore, and it’s then you hear soft voices coming from the kitchen too. Getting up, you turn the tv on and click a random sports channel, seeing them talk about the plays of the week.

You walk into the kitchen and see Steph getting everyone’s spaghetti into the bowls and the two boys sat at the table. They all look up and greet you before going back to what they were doing, “Y/N, would you mind grabbing some water from the fridge, as well as some cans of pop?” You nod at Steph’s request and open their fridge, grabbing the four of you some drinks and placing them on the table.

“Dinner is all done…” Steph announces, handing you and Fred your bowls, Fred thanks her and scoots closer to you, “Hey elsker, did you have a nice nap?” You nod, “Did you?” He smiles, “With you in my arms? Of course I did.” You giggle at his cheesy line and finish eating.

After dinner is done and you’ve helped Steph clean, you all sit together in the living room and watch movies until it’s late enough to where Fred goes back his place and you three part ways to go to sleep.

It’s the next morning and you wake to hear a shower running and someone in the kitchen, you assume they’re making breakfast. Groaning, you stretch your limbs and sit up, looking around the room and at your suitcases. You throw the blanket off and stand up to make your bed. You spend a little bit of your time cleaning the room and then make your way to your suitcases to pick out a pair of clothes so you can shower. You had a big day planned and you hope you get it all done.

_

As you and Steph were clearing the table, having just ate breakfast, you fell into an easy conversation about the game tomorrow, to which you would be attending now that you and Freddie have worked things out, and as you went to throw the rest of the garbage away she asked you if you wanted to join them and check out a few shops downtown. Thinking about it, you shook your head, “Thanks but, I actually have a few things to do today.” You smiled at her, she looked up, “Oh okay, do you want to use my car, we’ll be taking Mitchie’s.” Unsure of her suggestion, you shrugged, “I couldn’t ask you for that, I already asked for too much.” She waved you off, continuing to push the chairs in, “It’s no problem girl, so long as you put gas in, it’s fine.”

After agreeing that you’ll for sure fill it up after you’re done using it, you both nodded and she stopped you before you walked out, telling you that she put some of your clothes in the wash and they should be ready to be thrown in the dryer.

You nodded once more, thanking her, and walked down the hall into the laundry room they had, moving your clothes into the dryer and looked to see she had a basket full of her and Mitch’s clothes, waiting to be throw in. Since she had done some of your clothes, you picked it up and you put them in the wash, putting in detergent and turning it on. Putting the empty basket back on the shelf you looked down, seeing you were in sweats and a tank top. Chewing your lip, you decided this outfit was good enough and just opted for asking Mitch if you can borrow one of his sweaters, you didn’t need to dress up for where you were going anyways.

Coming out of the laundry room you met with Mitch, who was now carrying his keys, phone, and wallet, “Oh hey, do you think I can borrow one of your sweaters? Mine-” He cuts you off before you can finish, already turning around to re-enter the bedroom, “Of course, here...”

He comes out as fast as he went in and hands it to you, “Where to?” he asks. You take it and slip it on, “Well, actually I need to go and see my parents.”

Nodding his head, his mouth made an ‘o’ shape, “Ohhh, I see, alright, have a safe trip there and back, we’ll see you later.”

Telling him the same, you take Steph’s keys and go to slip on your shoes, walking out just as they’re pulling out of the driveway. Waving, you jump into Steph’s car, buckling up and taking the time to know the controls, then backing out of the driveway.

__

It’s been about an hour and you’re just getting to your parents, parking in front thinking about what exactly you were going to say to your parents. Of course, you couldn’t start with anger and shouting, you had to handle this like an adult, because that’s what you were, whether they believed it or not.

After a while you took a deep breath and opened your door, stepping out and making your way toward their front door. You didn’t even get a chance to knock before your mom had opened it, giving you a smile that was filled with sympathy, “Oh my baby, we saw you get out of your car, come in.”

You kept a straight face as you took off your sandals and walked into the living room, seeing your dad sitting on the couch. “We need to talk, mom can you sit down please.”

Standing in front of your parents you tried to find the right words, that is until your father spoke, “Did he leave you sweetheart? I knew it, he hurt you, and-” You didn’t let him finish, “Oh please dad, don’t even finish that sentence. You and I both know why he left, and it wasn’t because you were right, but rather the opposite.”

Your mom stopped you, “Don’t speak to him like that Y/N, we are your parents.”

You shook your head again, “Just because you’re my parents doesn’t give you the right to choose who I love. You two are supposed to be my biggest supporters, and you can’t even do that. How do you think this made me feel, how do you think I felt when you were accusing the love of my life of all those things? I can assure you I didn’t feel so great. It hurt me deeply to hear those things come from you. Yes, Freddie left me, but it was because we go through this every day, we get hate for our relationship from everybody but his family, and his teammates. We thought maybe you two would support us as well, but you’re no better than everyone else. He left because he was hurt, he told me that it wasn’t fair to me if we continued to see each other, he told me that he didn’t want to hurt me.”

“Smart guy...” Your father mumbled.

You rolled your eyes, “You know what? Everybody keeps telling me what to do, how to feel, and when to feel it, but no one bothers to actually ask what I want or how I feel, everyone just assumes. Now, I’m here to tell you exactly what it is that I want, and I want him. I want Freddie in my life, I need him in my life, because he loves me, and I love him just as much, if not, more. He makes me happy, the happiest I’ve ever been, I thought that was enough for you guys to like him. I thought that’s all you ever wanted for me; to find someone who makes me happy and loves me for me. Maybe I’m wrong, but you’re not going to stand between us again, I won’t let you. So, whether or not you want to accept us, we’re still going to be together, because it’s Fred and I’s decision, not yours.”

Without waiting for an answer, you slip your shoes back on and walk out, hopping into your car and driving off.

__

Almost two hours later, and here you are parked in front of Mitch and Steph’s, you didn’t feel like going in yet. You blink and look at the gas tank, realizing you forgot to fill it up, sighing you sit back up and start the engine, backing up and driving toward the gas station, glancing at the time you debate on going for a drive around the area, or going to Freddie’s and telling him everything.

You’re not necessarily sad or angry, rather in a daze. Still processing the fact that you stood up to your parents, thinking about if you had done that in the first place, perhaps you and Fred would still be together right now, but that’s in the past now.

You did the right thing eventually and decide that this is just a lesson learned, for both you and Fred, that no matter what anyone says, you will have each other to lean on, after all that’s what relationships are about. It doesn’t matter if you recognize it immediately or not, a lesson is learned in one’s own time, and that’s why it takes some people a little while to see the picture.

Smiling at your revelation, you texted Steph that you would be back soon and would need some help with going back to Fred’s.

Turning the radio up, you nod your head and start to sing the lyrics, deciding to have a bit of fun and let out the relief you felt. The relief of finally taking control of your own feelings and decisions.

__

With a now-full tank and a bag of food, you’re getting out of Steph’s car and walking into their home. As soon as you open the door you see your stuff all ready to go, and Steph looks over from the living room, “Now that I think about it, it looks like we’re in such a rush to have you leave but I promise we’re not! It was so nice having you here, I just thought you maybe wanted to leave as soon as you got home.” She looks sheepish and you giggle, “It’s fine Steph, I get it. And I honestly can’t thank you both enough for helping not only myself but Freddie as well and allowing me to stay here while we were going through this.” You go to hug her, and she rubs your back, “Of course, it was no problem.”

Mitch helps you pack up and you all get into the vehicle, taking the familiar route to Freddie’s.

__

You knock on Freddie’s door and notice you’re more nervous than you thought. Before you can bail though, Freddie opens the door, smiling when he realizes it’s you, “Good morning Y/N, how are ya?” You roll your eyes and he let’s out a short giggle, “Can I come in Fred, please?” He nods and makes way for you to enter, shutting the door as you take off your shoes.

You cross his living room, turning around the face him and sit down, “I need to tell you something.” Freddie nods and sits on one of the stools he has at the little island in his kitchen, “Okay.” You take a breath, “I went to see my parents yesterday,” you saw him look down at his lap, but continued, “I went to see my parents because I needed to tell them what I thought of our dinner.” He looked back up when he realized where you were going with this.

“I’m not at all trying to disregard how you felt because that’s not in my right, and I’m not trying to bring this all up again, but I just need to tell you how I felt, because just like my parents Fred, you tried to assume how I felt and how I was going to feel in the future, so please just listen to me.” You took his silence as a continuation, “While we were at the dinner, and I was hearing those things my parents were saying about you, to you, it broke my heart. I didn’t like the way they were speaking to you at all, and I’m sorry that it took me so long to say something to them. As you were breaking up with me you kept saying that it wasn’t fair to me to feel trapped and you wanted me to live my life,”

Fred was listening to you intently, “I felt sorrow and guilt, it broke me to know that I could do anything in that moment and it wouldn’t have stopped you, I felt so helpless, like I wasn’t good enough to make you stay, but that’s not your fault. I knew what was going to happen and I didn’t stop it, but like I told myself after, that was in the past and I want to move on, but I feel like the only way to move on was to communicate with you how it affected me, so that we both know where we stand next time something like this happens, which I hope it doesn’t. I understand that what people say hurts you, and you feel like you’re too old for me or whatever, but until I tell you myself how I feel, then please don’t doubt yourself or this relationship.”

Freddie waited until he was sure you were done before speaking up himself, “I’m sorry that I didn’t take the time to see where your head was at during that time, and I’m sorry for not always knowing it, but I can promise that in the future I will always remember to ask you how you’re feeling about something and try my hardest to make decisions based on both of our considerations.” You nodded, and accepted it, because that’s all you needed, for him to try, and you would do the same.

“C’mere elskede.” He opened his arms and you walked into them, happy to be in his arms once more, “Freddie?” You turned to look up at him, and he raised his eyebrow, “Hm?” You smiled, “Can I move back in?” He let out a belly laugh, “Of course my love, let’s go get your stuff.”

Letting go and walking over, sliding on your shoes and opening the door, you looked back at him, “Well actually, my stuff is downstairs.”

He set his car keys back down, “What?”

[drariellevalentine]

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 4- Radical Revelations

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Bryce Lahela, Landry Olsen, Elijah Greene, Jackie Varma, Rafael Aveiro, Ethan Ramsey, Harper Emery

Pairing:- Arielle Valentine x Ethan Ramsey

Warnings:- None

Arielle’s PoV:-

Completely exhausted from the day’s events, you head into the locker room and take a nice but quick hot shower. Drying off, you quickly change into a cute pearl silk tied top with a comfy pair of ripped jeans. Taking out the bun in your hair, you decide to let your hair down, parting deep to the left, caressing your revealed shoulders.

You enter Donahue’s to find it completely packed. You try to squeeze inside apologising every now and then and look around to spot your friends.

You finally find them sitting in a table at the furthest corner of the bar.

"Long day?" Si asks as soon as I slump into the seat next to her.

“You have no idea, according an 18 year old, I look younger than him, so apparently I not eligible to be a doctor cause I look too cute!," I sigh dramatically and she giggles.

"Careful please," Bryce says before placing a tray of shots in our table.

Jackie scoffs, " Why are you even buying us drinks, meathead?"

"He's being nice, Jackie.”, Sienna smiles.

"Yeah, and also you think you could afford to buy that tonight?" I add.

"Sure," she rolls her eyes, "Thank youu," she says sarcastically.

Bryce laughs. "Think of it as a good luck drink guys. You are going to need a lot of luck to get into the diagnostics team."

"Wrong meathead. What we need is brains and hard work. Duh!"

"And luck," Bryce adds smirking, ‘lots of luck’. He emphasizes on the word "luck".

After minutes of bickering in between Bryce and Jackie, Bryce leaves to join his fellow surgeons. But my friends are still talking over the fellowship.

"I can't still believe they'll be taking an intern in the team!" I hear Landry say, his voice filled with excitement. "Never in my wildest dreams did I think that they'll even consider giving an intern a spot in the team let alone train them."

"Cheers on that," Jackie says forwarding a glass.

"Let's have a toast guys," Elijah forwards his glass. "To having a marvelous fellowship."

As we all toast to it I say, "Honestly guys, good luck. I won't be joining the fellowship but I wish the best of luck to you all." I smile. Everyone stares at me like I just refused a million dollars.

"You won't be joining the competition?!" Jackie asks shocked. "But why?"

"Not everyone wants to join the diagnostics team, Jackie," Landry states.

"Maybe not everyone, but Arielle does. The diagnostics team is the very thing that made Arielle apply here, in Edenbrook. That's one of the many things she said to me the day we met." Jackie turns to me then giving me a look that says "I want an answer".

"I know. The diagnostics team is what made me apply here on the first place, but I changed my mind. I got through my first week because of you guys. I don't think I could have done it if you guys were not there to support me," Sienna places a hand on my shoulder, giving me an understanding look.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship by competing with you guys. I need you guys by my side not against me."

"Idiotic choice but your call," Jackie rolls her eyes. And I smile as Sienna hugs me. A while later, you all head home for the day.

General PoV:-

Harsh sunlight streams through the open curtains of Arielle’s magazine cover worthy bedroom. Arielle turns around in her bed to grab her phone from her nightstand. The alarm clock catches her eye ‘9:15 a.m.’ She bolts right up in bed, rushing to her closet while ranting a ton of expletives. Hearing the commotion, Elijah and Sienna rush inside to see Arielle on the floor half-naked tangled in a bunch of clothes. Sienna stares at her in confusion while Elijah understands what’s going on and bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”, Arielle asks.

“You forgot today’s our day off, didn’t you?”, Elijah asks knowingly.

“It is? Oh shit! I completely forgot!”

They help Arielle out of the tangle of clothes. “Anyways, we were thinking of going to a baseball game so...I bought everyone matching t-shirts but they only come in two sizes you’ll have to adjust yours. Only then Arielle notices their shirts. Sienna hands her an red oversized t-shirt. “We’re leaving in an hour, get ready!”

Arielle’s PoV:-

You shower and slip on a robe after drying yourself off. “There’s no way in hell I’m wearing this!”, you exclaim holding up the red,baggy, oversized shirt. If there’s one thing you care about, it’s your style. You grab a pair of fabric shears and crop the oversized shirt folding the hem to create a neat finish using fabric glue, then cinch the extra fabric on the slides and secure it in place with a few stitches. You hold up the newly altered shirt and look to your mirror. “Much better!” Pairing it with a pair of studded white jeggings, white heel sandals and a couple of accessories, you sit down on your vanity’s stool. You take out your braid from last night, leaving thick curls in its place. You carefully clip your hair out of place and decide to brush on a little extra makeup. After finishing with your usual moisturiser, concealer and primer, you accentuate your almond eyes with a jet black eyeliner and brush out your brows. Knowing that you won’t need any help in the blush department, you move on to your lips. You decide on your favourite red transfer-proof lipstick ‘Bold Beauty’. You grab a crossbody purse and place your wallet, keys, phone and other essentials and head to the living room.

“What do you think? Is it too much?”, you ask uncertainly.

“Hot damn!”, says Jackie.

“You look gorgeous.”, Sienna says.

“Woah! You look good!”, says Landry.

“Someone call the fire department cause it’s getting hot in here!”, exclaims Elijah.

You blush furiously. “Thanks guys, I’ll drive us there.

You pile in the car as Elijah rides shotgun and gives you directions. You reach there at 10:30. “Ok, 10 minutes till game starts. Everyone split up and stand in a different line and get one of everything. I’ll get the drinks.” Sienna tells everyone where the seats are and everyone splits up. You get a drink tray full of sodas, beers and a lemonade for you, everything packed with ice, and head down to the first row where you find everyone holding snacks.

“Great seats Elijah!”, says Sienna.

“Have to be close to fully appreciate the bloodbath, these teams loathe each other.”

Landry and Elijah start geeking out as you, Jackie and Sienna are talking.

“So...I may or may have not seen you get into Dr. Ramsey’s car yesterday.”, Sienna slyly says.

“Crap!”, you think.

“Tell us everything!”, says Sienna.

“Seriously?”, Jackie asks.

You slowly confide in them about yesterday’s events and what you confessed about your personal life.

“Oh my god, Ari! I’m so sorry!” Sienna pulls you into a hug.

“It’s okay, I’m fine now.”

“Now I feel really bad for judging you, also very surprised and impressed that you managed to get away with sleeping on Dr. Terminator’s shoulder.”, says Jackie.

“It isn’t that big of a deal!”, you counter. Both of them give you a look. “Ok, fine, it is. He was actually really sweet, he even tried to console me.”, you confess. Sienna smiles wide at the mention of this.

“Anyways, you both have to promise not to say a word about this.”, you give them a pleading pout. Jackie’s about to ask about something else when you realise some kind of commotion is going on.

"Oh no, did he faint?" Si says and I look forward to see Jake Sandburg, one of the players lying on the floor. 

The other players rush to his side trying to wake him up.

"Uh, coach, he's in real bad shape," another player says leaning down beside him.

Their team manager hurries out," Damn our team physician quit on us just before the game."

"Is there any doctor here?" The manager asks and on instinct all of our hands goes up.

The manager looks clearly shocked to see five doctors in a front row but doesn't express it as we move towards the field asking the other players to help us move Jake inside.

We follow the other Nighthawker players into their locker as they carry Jake on a stretcher.

"Have you called 911?" I ask their manager.

"Yeah, the paramedics are on their way," the manager sighs, " Poor kid."

"Lay him here," I hear Jackie instruct them as they follow.

"He's got a pulse, but his breathing is shallow," Sienna says in a low and shaky voice. This sudden situation is clearly affecting her.

Landry pulls a stethoscope from his bag and places it against his chest.

"Sounds like fluid build up. We have to solve it fast or else he could be in trouble," Landry announces.

As the others take his vitals, Elijah and I  go to ask his teammates some questions, which we think might help us to crack the case.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" One of the player asks as we approach them.

"You can help us by answering some questions. Has this ever happened before?"

"Not as far as we know," he looks at his other teammates. " Also he had to pass a physical test just recently."

"He was called up from the minor league just a few weeks ago," the manager adds.

"Did he complain about any pain recently?"  Elijah asks.

"No, he was pretty quite, kept to himself. I think he was worried," the player says. "About what?"

The player shares a look with his manager as soon as I ask that. 

"Look, he's been struggling in the majors. I was in discussions with ownership to send him back down to the minors," the manager answers, a pained expression plastered across his face.

"Did he know about it?" Elijah asks in between.

" You know, the guys talk. Rumors."

"He was kinda freaking out about it, he kept sweating, hyperventilating," the manager adds and I make a mental note of it.

"Hyperventilating... How often?"

"I only saw it a couple of times," the managers states.

"Well, it could've been panic attacks," I conclude thoughtfully.

"He always seemed tired too. Yawing in the meetings, like he didn't get any sleep at all," the player from before says.

"Have you seen any changes in his behavior recently?" Elijah asks.

"Uh, I guess he's been hitting the ice bath a lot recently. Probably because of feeling sore," the guys answers. "But he'd do it even in the days when he wasn't playing," the guys adds after a moment.

"Thanks you for the help. Was he on any medications?" I ask before moving towards the table

"No. The team doctor left all the prescriptions and Sandburg wasn't prescribed anything," the manager says going through the charts.

"Thank you that'll be it," I say and look forward to find a player from the opposite team sneaking in. 

"Hey! You aren’t allowed here," I motion the others towards him as the player who was helping us moves towards him. But then to my surprise he hugs him and the other one whispers words of encouragement in his ears.

"Wait, weren't you two fighting in the field?" I ask shocked.

" Yeah, but that's only on the field. Ray and I grew up playing together in the streets of Miami. We are basically family," The Nighthawker player concludes.

“It’s that easy?”, you ask.

“When we’re in a game, our minds are focused on the game. But the minute it’s over, we’re brothers again. Iron sharpening iron, you know.”, he says but your mind is somewhere else.

“Iron sharpening iron. Competing makes them stronger...” You run back towards the patient.

I think it's a drug interaction. His medicines are amplifying each other out," I announce reaching them. "Two medications perfectly fine on their own, cauting each other to have an outsized affect."

"Oh, that could be it!" Sienna says, a sudden excitement hinting in her voice.

" But the team manager said that their previous doctor didn't prescribe him anything," Elijah says confused.

"Sandburg was already worried about being cut. If the team knew he had a medical condition, they'd be oven less likely to keep him around," I reply.

"So you think he kept him situation quiet to keep his job? Wouldn't be the first time someone's done that," Jackie shrugs .

"What do you think he was taking?" Landry asks.

"Well, maybe something for his panic attacks. Let's say fluoxetine," I reply to him

" That could be it. Getting a prescription for that isn't really hard..."

"Okay, maybe you are right. But what was reacting with it. What else was he taking?" Jackie cuts in between.

"Something for his soreness. His team members said he'd be sore even the days he was not pitching," I answer remembering what the player said.

"It could have been arthritic inflammation," Sienna states.

"Right? He's male in his twenties..." I try to think what it could be.

"Ankylosing Spondylitis!" Landry says.

"He could've been taking N.S.A.I.D for it, like - celecoxib," I say while checking his locker, " Here they are." I say taking out the medicines proving what we said is right.

" It could be doing irreparable damage to his kidneys! We gotta take him to the hospital as soon as possible," Elijah says.

The sound of helicopter blades cut through the commotion in the locker.

" The paramedics are here!" Sienna exclaims happily.

Soon the paramedics enter and you see Rafael running towards you. We explain him about the situation.

"Would you like to have a ride on the choper? My shift will end in five minutes. So after dropping Jake to the hospital we could maybe roam around the city," Raf says nervously once we are out of the locker. The other paramedics get Jake in the chopper.

"I would love that," I give him an assuring smile which he returns.

"Great!" He says making his way towards the chopper after asking me to follow him.

"Any certain place you have in mind where you'd like to go?" He asks smiling broadly getting back to the choper after we've successfully admitted Jake.

"Not really," I give him a silly smile.

"We'll have a tour over the whole city then, more fun," he winks and I giggle.

I am really enjoying the birds eye view. The city looks more beautiful from up here. Capturing the breathtaking city from above, I put it on my Instagram story.

The next picture I take is ours, I smile towards the front and Raf's is a candid, he's looking forward flying the chopper but smiling.

I post it on my Instagram feed, tagging Raf and captioning it "Soaring high with @raveirotheemt.”

You notice you have over 250 likes already. Perks of being famous.

"What do you see?" Raf asks and I look down.

"Edenbrook!" I squeak happily. " The first day in there, the hospital looked so enormous but now it looks so tiny!"

"Everything comes into perspective up here. It's one of the reasons I like it so much."

" How'd you learn to fly?"

"My uncle was a pilot in the Marines. He started teaching me to fly when I was still in high school."

"That was so young!"

"I just saw it as a fun thing to do on the weekends, you know. It was a great way to spend time with a great man," he smiles recalling the memories.

"Are you guys still close?" I ask

"He... He died two years ago."

"I'm so sorry Raf."

"He was really active in our community. When he wasn't flying, he'd organize food drives and buses for anyone struggling," he smiles sadly remembering those days," He's the one who inspired me to be an paramedic. I wanted to help people the way he did."

I nod at him understanding.

"Buckle up. We're ready to land," he tries to say it as normally as possible, smiling. But I know it is just an effort to not let people show his broken side.

“Hey, Jake and many other lives have had a chance to live because of you.”, I assure him.

He relaxes. “You too, Arielle.”

“You both land on Edenbrook’s helicopter pad as staff takes Jake away. You inform them of his condition.

“So... are you ready for the tour?

At first I thought that Beacon Hills were the most beautiful thing I saw today. But when we were taking a turn over Cape Cod Bay, my opinion changed. Nothing can be more beautiful than this. The breathtaking view of the glimmering ways merging with the bright golden sun creating a golden hue in the clear ocean water. The scenery is just breathtaking.

"It is beautiful," I say softly, still looking at the ocean.

"It's the best thing you can see in the city," Raf smiles.

"Can't disagree with that."

"And as much as I would hate for this to end," he smiles sadly, "But I need to return the chopper to the hospital now."

"It's cool Raf, we've been out here on it for a while," I smile.

Within minutes, he manages to fly back to the stadium and drops me off.

You return to your friends and show them the wonderful pics and views that you took.

“Of course!” After some time, you and Si head to the food court for a refill on food and drinks.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You’re stuck closing off an important deal with Banner Health alone, as Harper was called in for an emergency. You’re walking towards the bar in need of a stiff drink when a familiar waft of vanilla and cinnamon hits you. There she is, her beautiful jet black curled tresses falling below her waist, standing near you ordering something. She doesn’t seem to notice you. You turn your head the other way and ask for a club sandwich. A few minutes later, you receive a tray full of cheeseburgers. Somebody calls you.

“Excuse me sir, but it seems our orders got mixed up.” You turn around to find none other than Arielle. Her violet eyes widen in realisation.

“Dr. Ramsey! Hi, guess the world really is small!”, she responds enthusiastically.

“Some would say too small.” A petite intern who often you see beside her comes and doesn’t notice me.

“Hey Ari! I’ll take these down. You coming? In a minute, Sienna.” The intern leaves.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a baseball type of guy.”

“And you pegged me just right. I’m here to close a deal with Banner reps. They have me in the box suite, trying to butter me up with lobster and wine.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad...”

“I know it might surprise you, but I’m not one for schmoozing.”

“Nooooo... I don’t believe it. The great Ethan Ramsey doesn’t like it when someone butters him up!”, she feigns shock.

“Would you like to join me?, the words slip out before you can react.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You’re surprised. You’d never thought that your medical hero would need your help. He notices your expression and starts explaining, more like rambling.

“You know I’m not much good at speaking to other people, much less idiots but this is a very important deal for Edenbrook. Harper was taking the reins but she was called in for an emergency. One of your traits is that you’re quite persuasive, I was hoping that would help.”, he says.

“Of course.” You follow him to the private entrance which is blocked by a guard.

“Ah, Dr. Ramsey. The Banner Health execs are waiting.” He gestures for you to follow. The guard stops you.

“I’m afraid I’ll need to see some ID, Miss. Alcoholic beverages are being served.” Dr. Ramsey gets irritated.

“I can assure you she’s older than 21.”, he says. The guard insists. Sighing, you pull out your ID. His eyes flash with recognisation.

“I’m extremely sorry miss, but I have to follow protocol.”

“It’s quite alright.” Dr. Ramsey leads you into the private box, where you see a crowd of ‘business’ dressed people lounging on the posh sofas. He picks up two glasses of Malbec and hands one to you.

“Thank you. To deals, negotiations and whatnot!” He rolls his eyes. “To negotiations.”, he toasts.

“This is quite nice.”

“It is, don’t get used to it. I knew many great doctors, all who swore never to make it about the money but did. Don’t let it become about the money.”

“Ha! If only he knew I had millions of dollars in my name and still live like this.”, you think.

“You’re right. It never should become about the money.”, you say truthfully. Two reps saunter up and start sucking up to him. You roll your eyes internally.

“I’m sure there are many opportunities. By the way, let me introduce you to Dr. Arielle Valentine, one of Edenbrook’s newest interns, and one who shows much promise.”, he says.

Your lawyer/advocate instincts kick into action, which includes an amazing first impression.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Valentine but no formalities between us. I have already been impressed upon the very invaluable and precious bond of Banner Health and Edenbrook and hope today will also add on to that. I’m looking forward to the other ways that you have suggested for this partnership, all to help our patients.”, you say.

“Oh my, if this is who Edenbrook is recruiting these days, our partnership is very sure to exceed high expectations.”, they say. Dr. Ramsey nods in approval. They all start negotiating deals, which end in their favour and not-so-good for Edenbrook. Dr. Ramsey looks to you for help.

“Okay, time to pull out all the stops!”, you mentally prepare yourself. You launch into a very persuasive but subtle argument slowly shifting the deal in Edenbrook’s favour. By the time you’re done, the execs have given their consent and you just got them to add a lot of benefits starting from loans to better rates on different services including neurological and cardiac.

“Thank you, Ethan and Arielle for the pleasure. Perhaps we could meet for a round of golf next week to hammer out the fine points.

“Oh hell no!”, you think.

“Oh! Dr. Ramsey is busy next week but how about later tonight?”, you say. They’re about to agree when you drop the bombshell. “Dr. Ramsey and I have an appointment later this week at the shooting range and self-defence center downtown. Don’t worry, I have quite a few guns to be spared, but be warned, I’m quite experienced.”, you say trying not to burst out laughing seeing their shocked faces. You catch Dr. Ramsey which a not-so-well hidden smirk on his face.

“That’s quite alright, we both have made many commitments later this week.”, say frantically say.

“That’s alright, another time then.” A few minutes later, they both leave claiming they had to go. As soon as they leave, you burst out laughing.

“That was quite an act you put on there.”

“Who said it was an act?” He gives you an incredulous look.

“Anyways, it was quite impressive how you shifted the deal in favour to Edenbrook.”, he says questioningly.

You sigh. “Pretty much everyone in my family are lawyers, different areas though. I picked up a lot of skills when watching their hearings.”

“You’re quite good at it. May I ask why you didn’t follow their path.”

“...My godfather was also a doctor. He would tell me stories of how he was able to save lives, make a difference, experience all the love, pain, loss, heartbreak. And I fell in love with it over time. My father wasn’t supportive of it though. I don’t know what went wrong. When I was a child, we had an unbreakable bond. Over time, he buried himself in his cases, that bond slowly evaporating. My brother always knew that I would work in the medical field and was very supportive. When I announced that I had gotten into Johns Hopkins for med school, my father was angry and didn’t support me. He claimed that I had led his hopes up and shattered them, when all along I always was hinting about my dream to become a doctor. We both said hurtful things that a father nor daughter should ever say, that night. After that, I cut off all contact with him.”, you carefully say making sure not to give any clues that Dr. Banerji is your godfather.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You’re shocked. Utterly shocked. You’d never guess that this bright, cheerful, kind intern had such a rough childhood. Especially when your’s made you turn out like this.

“I believe you made the right choice.”, you assure her.

“That means a lot to me.(more than you could ever know)”, she says and whispers.

You both relax and lounge on the comfy sofa, watching the game.

You notice the sun setting as the game ends. “It’s quite late, how will you get home?”

“My friends and I came here by my car, but I told them to take my car when they said they were leaving early. I spent all my money on food so I’ll take a train or something.”

“I’ll drive you home, it’s the least I can do.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s alright. Let’s go.” You lead Arielle to your car, at the same time kicking yourself. “Dear god Ramsey, what the hell is wrong with you? Offering a ride!” You convince yourself that it’s just a thank you but you know it’s because you want to make sure that she gets home safe.

Both of you are exiting the stadium and stop when you see Harper.

“Ethan! Thank god you’re still here. I just received the terms of agreement of our deal with Banner. What did you do?” She notices Arielle.

“Dr. Valentine, what are you doing here?”

“She was here with her friends when I saw and asked for help with negotiating. She was the one who turned the deal into our favour.”, I quickly reply.

“Very impressive Dr. Valentine, but do know that this doesn’t make a difference in the fellowship rankings.”, Harper says.

“I know Chief Emery, anyways I haven’t entered the competition. But thank you though.”, she replies. You’re surprised. You thought she had entered, but you never checked the list of participants. You tell her to wait at the car.

“You’re dropping her off?”, she asks.

“She literally just scored us a very big deal. I’m just thanking her.

“Hmm... Well I’ll see you later. Goodbye, Ethan.” You nod and get in your car. Turning on the engine, you drive.

“Where do you live?”, you ask.

She pulls up a location 20 minutes from here on her phone.

“Why didn’t you enter the fellowship?”

“Did you want me to?”, she asks. You don’t answer.

“My first week was hard enough, with a competition that would jeopardise our friendship, I decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Especially when they were the ones who got me through the first week.”

“I understand. A lot of friendships of mine were severed during my residency due to the competitiveness.” You both talk about leisure topics until you reach a tall apartment complex.

“This is me. Thanks for the ride, Dr. Ramsey.”, with that, she swiftly exits out of the car. You reverse the car and drive to your apartment.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You walk up to the entrance of your building, taking the elevator to your floor. You pull out your keys when Jackie opens the door and lets you in.

“I was wondering when you’d be back.” You smile, taking off your shoes and head into the living room.”

“Hey Ari! Join us for a drink!”, says Elijah.

“Nah, I don’t want a drink. But yes for the company.”

“You all better kiss that fellowship goodbye, cause I just solved that case in record time.”, Landry says.

“You do realise that Arielle was the one who did most of it and we all helped.”, Jackie says.

“Exactly, I looked at the clues and diagnosed the problem!”

You laugh with your friends as they playfully egg each other on. You’re going over today’s events, thinking about all the crazy events, when you realise that you haven’t been true to yourself. “Competing makes them stronger.”, you remember saying. You’ve given advice to other people but you aren’t following your own. You bolt up from the sofa, grabbing your purse and keys and head towards the door.

“What are you doing, Ari?”, Sienna asks.

“You smile replying, “Something I should have done way before.” Your roommates give you a knowing smile as you head towards Edenbrook.

You park your car, rushing through the atrium and up the stairs towards Dr. Ramsey’s office. You a minute to compose yourself and knock.

“Come in.”, his professional but baritone voice replies.

You enter his office to see a minimally decorated desk, covered with papers and patient files. He files them away neatly as you enter. “Rookie. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I want in.”

“I made it clear that the cutoff was midnight.” Your eyes follow his gaze to the wall clock. ‘12:02’

“What makes you think that you’re an exception?”

You steady yourself. “I know I can be a good doctor. I know that I can make a difference in people’s lives, like you do. It just took me a little longer to realise it.” You gulp, wondering if you’ve blown your chance.

He smirks and pull out a long list of names, adding yours at the bottom. “You had me worried there. What changed your mind?”

“I always advised other people to follow their dreams, never give up, to take a leap of faith. I realised I needed to take my own advice.” He nods with approval.

“Good Night, Dr. Valentine.”

“Good Morning, Dr. Ramsey.”, you say, pointing at the same clock ‘12:08’. He shakes his head with amusement.

You head out to your car, the cool autumn breeze in your hair, and drive into the night.

“Bring it on.”

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area: Chapter Three

Previous chapter HERE

Warning: Not explicit (yet); some mild language.

Summary: 29-year-old nurse Sarah Bernette has worked hard to get where she is. Moving to Boston from a nowhere dump of a town, she’s studied hard and is grateful her stress is finally paying off. Despite being fostered repeatedly throughout her childhood, she’s since found some comfort in the form of her adopted parents, Jocelyn and Noah, and a pseudo-adoptive family of sorts in form of the Evans clan who have treated her as one of her own ever since she moved in with best friend, Shanna. Valuing them above all else, she appreciates their support even more when her long lost birth mother decides to reappear in her life after so many years, and is surprised to find out just how supportive Chris is in particular. As she struggles to maintain a firm grip on both her professional and private lives, she finds an ill-advised solace in her growing mutual attraction with him but how long before everything unravels and threatens to pull the rug out from underneath her?

Note: I apologise for my spelling/grammar errors.

CHAPTER THREE

“So, completely, out of the blue, just like that, she’s asked the courts to intervene to ask you to meet her?”

Sarah was sat with Audrey on their break at Joe’s across the street from the ER. It was a favourite haunt of theirs; it was cheap but the coffee was always strong, always hot, and the waffles were to die for. Plus, the chef was so supportive of staff, he would insist on giving them double the amount of toppings. Sarah contemplated using them as wedding caterers should it ever some to that. The location also gave them the added bonus of being far enough away from their work that they felt like it gave them a decent break when they could eventually find a spare 5 minutes, and clandestine enough that they could freely complain about the latest regulations imposed upon them by O’ Brien, the Ward Co-ordinator, and his questionable personal hygiene.

“Fuck me, the nerve.” Audrey shook her head in bewilderment. “You’d think she’d have taken the hint the first time around.”

“Well, there’s always the possibility she thought her letters might not have reached me and now she’s just trying to cover her bases.” Sarah suggested, taking another drink of her piping hot coffee and feeling course through her body, a comforting warmth for the first time that day. She was struck in that moment by her own empathy for this woman. She wasn’t sure what it meant.

“Don’t go making excuses for her. It’s arrogant is what it is, paying for some fancy lawyer to do her bidding. If she wanted to do right by you, she would have responded all those years ago when it was you reaching out to her. Don’t you take pity on her now. You have to make it clear to them, the lawyers or whoever the fuck this is, that you’re happy, you’re in a good place, and you have all the fucking family you need,” Audrey emphasised each point by stabbing her finger on the table. “You need whatever bullshit she is selling.”

Rarely did Audrey mince her words. She could be relied on to tell you straight exactly what she thought and at several times during their friendship, Sarah counted her blessings that she was on the right side of her. 

“Yes, yeh, of course.” she lied. Perhaps lied. She wasn’t sure what she was thinking in that moment. At various times during the days since she had received the notice, she’s swung back and forth between rejecting their request outright or taking the opportunity to see what she was like in the flesh, to see whether she was anything like she had pictured in her mind. Just to satisfy her curiosity at least. Shan suggested they should arrange to meet her and perform some sort of “drive by” and run away at the last minute. As more and more time went by, Sarah found herself warming to that suggestion.

“What do your folks think about it?” Audrey asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t told them about it yet. They’re in town next weekend so I’ll wait and tell them in person I think.”

Audrey nodded in understanding, pouring them what was left of their coffee pot. “I take it you’ve told Shan about this?”

“Yeh but we don’t get a lot of time to discuss things at the moment. More like passing ships in the night.”

“Oh right, I forgot. Cap’s back. How is it going? Is he still hanging out at yours?”

Sarah nodded and watching Audrey’s eyes light up, looking giddier than she’d ever seen before.

“How is he looking? Like, abs wise? I bet there isn’t an inch of fat on him. I bet he walks around in his towel, all wet after a shower. Still buff as hell, right?” She flashed Sarah the naughtiest smile she could muster. She swore Audrey was imagining him right at this very minute.

“Can I remind you that you have a very real and very lovely husband at home?” Sarah playfully jabbed her friend with her fork.

“Don’t tell mer you haven’t noticed.”

“How do you expect me to answer that?” Sarah protested, her voice reaching a little too high for her liking and she could sense Audrey’s doubt in her declaration. “For your information, I haven’t really spoken to him much since he got back.”

“Y’know, I like my husband a normal amount but if I was single and living in close proximity to that, I’d be all over that shit.”

Funnily enough, Sarah didn’t doubt that for a second. She’d seen up close and personal her flirtatious remarks to him after she’d been forced into introductin them some years earlier. She marvelled at how shy she’d become when she was typically so verbose and confident. Things progressed quite quickly that evening thanks to the shots he kept pouring for them and the arm she kept draped across his wide shoulders, practically sat in his lap. He wasn’t complaining one bit. She recalled fond memories of a random video recorded on Audrey’s phone that was meant to be a ‘Happy Birthday’ message to Michael but instead became an example of what not to show your husband when hanging out with an A-List Movie Star. Aside from the occasional political rant and last night’s episode of Jimmy Fallon, Chris was often Audrey’s favourite topic of conversation when he was in town.

“You know why he does that.” Audrey hinted before taking the last few bites of her waffles, feigning innocence.

Sarah knew where this train was going and was keen to stop it before it derailed and killed innocent passengers. “We need to get back. I have an x-ray to collect and you have a bladder irrigation in cubicle two.” Audrey’s shoulders dropped and she grimaced at the thought.

As they were heading back, they narrowly avoided colliding with Greg seemingly leaving for the day. Sarah would soon regret her jibes as Audrey made an unmistakably loud call-out in his direction. He may have just about escaped her clutches but turned to swagger his way back towards them, grinning widely.

“Hey guys, how’s it going?” He asked coolly, and to his credit he seemed genuinely interested. Sarah had thought he only reserved that kind of over-interest for consultants who might be able to further his career but perhaps she’d been too quick to judge him after all.

“Yeh, it’s going really well, thanks. How are you? You finished for the day?”

Sarah inwardly groaned. Audrey was going somewhere with this.

“Just heading home to get changed and then probably just head for the gym, I think. Might try and get a game of tennis in if I can.” He held up his bag to indicate his racket was inside. Sarah saw the label for YSL.

“Oh, you play tennis? How funny! So does Sarah!” Sarah figured she might have played twice in her entire life and one of those occasions ended in her swearing never again to pick up a racket. “Oh my god, Sarah, can you believe this? Such a small world. Sarah was the team at her college in fact.”

How could Greg not notice the insincerity?

“Really? Hey, y’know, if you’re free sometime, I’d love to have a match or two,” he smiled widely at Sarah as she died a little inside. “I haven’t managed to find anyone here who plays yet so it would be good to make a friend at least.”

Sarah spotted the earnestness in his eyes and almost felt a little sorry for him. Nevertheless, she nodded along in the hopes of ending the conversation as quickly as possible so she could get inside and stab Audrey with a scalpel. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Greg. He was perfectly nice, very ambitious with the intelligence to match, and even under the harsh lights of the Ambulance Bay, he was clearly a very attractive man; all height, with not a hair out of place. It was more her issue than his. According to Audrey, she was unsure of herself around overly good-looking men. Audrey first pointed this out to her when they were on a night out. She said a lack of self-esteem somewhere inside her meant that she automatically wrote herself off whenever it came to guys she deemed herself to be unworthy of. Then Audrey - and she may have been drunk at this point, Sarah couldn’t quite remember herself - insisted on writing out a list of pros that started with green eyes and ended with her “impressive butt”. She laughed when Audrey told her that she somehow made scrubs look fashionable and not dowdy, and that she should treat herself once in a while to an item of clothing that wasn’t a hoodie or a pair of jeggings.

“Well, I’m sure that could be arranged,” Audrey winked at him, and Greg seemed agreeable to that idea. “You’re not doing anything tomorrow night, are you Sarah?”

“Um,” she really tried hard to wrack her brains but came up short. “No, not that I can think of right at this moment.”

“Well, great, maybe meet you at Roxbury Gym tomorrow night? I have a membership that lets me bring friends and family so there’d be no problem.”

Of course he did.

“Er, yes, OK. Sounds good. Just don’t go hoping for Open standard or anything. It’s been some time since I played.” She directed that last comment squarely at Audrey who had never looked prouder of her work. Greg smiled at them again and wished them both a good afternoon before backing away and heading to his car, his bag swung confidently over his shoulder.

“Wow, thank you.” Sarah said sarcastically.

“Hey, you can thank me later, sugar.”

*

It was just after eight when she got home. Shan was working late so Chris had texted her to ask if she wanted to share a pizza that evening and she’d agreed like it was the greatest idea in the world. It was actually paying off now that Chris was there most of the time; if he wasn’t keeping the fridge stocked with beer and various groceries, she’d found him hoovering the hallway the day before, apropos of nothing.

He wasn’t immediately present when she entered the apartment. She dumped her bag by the door and collected some post from the side table Shan had left for her.  The TV was on low on C-Span and she spied two scripts on the coffee table, one looking vaguely Marvel-ish. She dare not look at it in case there was a microdot inbred into every page that would alert them to intruders touching the paper. Or it was fingerprint-sensitive. Also, she genuinely wanted to be surprised when she would inevitably see it at the cinema. She’d been invited to a premiere on one occasion and Chris found it both hilarious and endearing that she turned him down, preferring to see it in a packed screening with honest movie fans instead of critics with annoying lights at the end of their pens. She also didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Mark Ruffalo but she kept that nugget to herself.

Just as she was heading towards the bathroom to wash up before dinner, Chris emerged from Shan’s bedroom, a towel slung low on his waist, a slight steam rising off his skin. Sarah couldn’t stop the knowing laugh from escaping her.

“Ouch. Thanks.” Chris retorted.

“Oh no,” She realised how that sounded. “It wasn’t anything, y’know. Um, it wasn’t, um...” Sarah’s brain had stopped working and she became increasingly aware of time passing very slowly with Chris just staring at her. “I was talking to Audrey about something earlier and you just reminded me is all.”

“Oh, Audrey, nice. How is she?” That seemed to change his attention for the better, thankfully.

“Married.”

Chris snickered to himself. “Man, she loves you, y’know. You’re lucky. She seems like a good friend.”

“Yeh, I know. She’s great. Not many friends would work so hard on setting me up on a date.” Sarah had only intended to say that last part under her breath as she turned to head into the bathroom.

“A date?! You?”

It was evidently now Sarah’s turn to feel affronted. “Yes, me. Why so surprised?”

“Not surprised at all. Just. OK, yeh, surprised, but only a little bit. You always seem so quiet on that front. I actually can’t remember the last time you went on a date.”

“That’s not a helpful comment, Chris.”

“Daniel!” Chris clicked his fingers. “It was Daniel and he rode to work on a skateboard!” He was momentarily proud of his powers of recall until he noticed the look on Sarah’s face. “He was nice. He liked....stuff.”

Sarah couldn’t keep up the pretence any longer. “I remember he had an unnatural obsession with onion rings,” She laughed. ‘It took me forever to disinfect the place of the smell!”

Chris laughed heartily at the memory. “Well, I hope whoever this new guy is, he’s worthy of you.”

She was grateful for the nudge and he smiled back at her. “Pizza will be another 10 minutes I reckon, so be quick.”

Sarah shot him the finger guns in acknowledgement, regretted the finger guns, then closed the bathroom door behind her. She toyed with the idea of getting a shower but really, really wanted pizza before Chris had the opportunity to devour it. His appetite was truly off the charts when he wasn’t in training mode. She couldn’t quite believe what he could put away or where it ended up because it certainly made no difference to his physique.

As she re-emerged fresh and in a change of clothes, Chris was laying out the pizza and beers on the coffee table. She rarely ate anywhere other than at the kitchen table but Chris told her to live a little and relax. She followed the delicious smell of pepperoni and garlic bread and quickly gave in.

“So who’s the new guy?” Chris asked when they were both a couple of bites in.

“Just this guy from work. He’s new to Newton’s but only there for a few more weeks I think. Audrey is obsessed with setting me up with him. What?” She spotted Chris’ growing smirk stretch across his face. “Seriously, what is it?”

“So he’s not gonna be there for long? Never had you down as a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of girl before.” She could tell he was trying hard not to burst out laughing. 

“Great, so first I’m not dating at all and now I’m only interested in serious relationships?”

Chris held his hands up in protest. “There’s nothing wrong with that by the way! It works for me. If the girl is into it, even better.”

“It’s different for guys, though. You can get away with it because it’s assumed you’re naturally immature. For women, it’s like... we’re immoral or something.” She picked a large red pepper from her slice, placing it on her plate only for Chris to pick it back up again and add it to his. “The bar is held a lot higher for us, you have to admit.”

“Yes, perhaps. But there’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex without the pressure of asking yourself so many questions afterwards. You don’t have to see them again if you don’t want to. You don’t even have to learn their names. So long as it’s safe, just enjoy it for what it is. I don’t think there is anything immoral about that.” He shrugged.

Sarah smiled at him. “Is this what got you here?” She had only meant that as a passing joke but recent events had completely slipped her mind. Chris paused mid-bite unsure of how to respond. Sarah turned towards him fully prepared to apologise. “Mate, I’m-”

“Don’t worry about it. God knows, I deserve it.” He wiped his fingers with a napkin. “It was what it was.”

Sarah wasn’t sure if that was an admission of sorts and was unsure of how to respond. He could see the thoughts crossing through her mind and nodded slowly, wordlessly answering the question he wanted to ask but was too wary to do so. He hadn’t felt much like talking of late preferring the relative comfort found at the bottom of a beer bottle or glass of whisky. Scott, his friends, his sisters, everybody had worked out quickly enough that it was a topic he did not want to discuss. Everybody except his mom, that is. He readily acknowledged that he had been avoiding the conversation but also a growing awareness that his relationship with Jenny had been possibly symptomatic of something else he’d been trying to avoid of late: that he was getting older and had little understanding of what he wanted to do or where exactly he wanted to be. Sarah also didn’t want to put herself in a position his mother might be better suited towards. 

“It’s so stupid.” He shook his head, resigned. He took another deep breath before picking up his beer bottle contemplating taking a mouthful. “Things just got out of hand. It’s my own fault. I should have thought more first instead of running into things. You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“No, not at all.” She tried to sound as genuine as possible and he was grateful. She never thought he was an idiot. Naive maybe, but not an idiot. “I’ve know you long enough to know that you’re not a bad person. Plus, y’know, it takes two as they say. Look, I’m probably not the best person to advise on this kind of thing anyway.”

He seemed grateful for the brief assurance. “I think you’re better than you think you are.”

She attempted to change the subject. “So, you’re back filming next month?”

“Yeh, just for a few days hopefully.” He decided to follow her lead. “Then I’m free for a while. Should be easy enough.” He seemed to relax a little more physically at the thought of his impending freedom. The immense financial security meant he tended to take longer breaks between projects now, and he was a little fussier about the project when he did eventually choose to work again. “Shan said you folks were coming this weekend?”

“Next weekend now, but yeh. Looking forward to it. I haven’t really spoken to them much recently and Dad’s been so busy lately and Mom’s worrying about his blood pressure again so it’ll be good for him to switch off for a while. I was thinking of taking them to a photography exhibition in town.”

“Steve McCurry?” His eyes lit up exponentially at the name. “I’m dying to see that one. It’s a shame they don’t keep the studio open past nine now. That would’ve been ideal.” He scoffed and Sarah felt a sadness for him. Not so long ago, he’d had to leave his nephew’s school play halfway through and via a fire door when one of the parents insisted on joking with him loudly throughout the first fifteen minutes about whether he saw any acting talent on stage and then subsequently bugged him to play golf during an interval. It was hard for him to just go out and enjoy normal things such as exhibitions or theatre or, hell, even a casual walk through a park. They were beautiful at this time of year now that Summer was just around the corner and the weather was getting much warmer and brighter. For Chris, any simple trip now relied upon precision timing and stealth-like skills to avoid being seen and quite frankly, that must have sucked.

“Well, you’re welcome to come with. I’m sure we could sneak you in with a disguise somehow.” she winked and nudged him with her shoulder to break the silence, and there was a smile forming in the corner of his mouth. 

“Fuck it. You’re on!”

*

Next Chapter HERE

[vanchlo]

The Assistant /Chapter Twenty-Six, “Old Faces”

Catch up on reading or start from the beginning HERE! :-)

Thanks for reading! c:

                                SNEAKY PEEK TIMEEEEEEEEE!!!

Something inside of my chest falls and for the first time in weeks, my thoughts are flooded with her. And I’m worrying about her, missing her, and wanting to hear her voice. I’m feeling all of the things and thoughts I’ve done such a great job at suppressing for the last few weeks.

Because before, only the alcohol could, but I couldn’t do that anymore. I knew she’d be disappointed. And once that thought wormed its way into my brain, I couldn’t entertain it for more than a minute. And so I dumped out the bottles and threw them in the bin.

Now, I feel myself fill with regret at that because once again I want to drown the feelings.

Because I’m hurting thinking about all of the hurt and pain she’s feeling.

“Awww, my little baby on her first day of school!” 

“Oh, would you stop?” I groan in annoyance. But I can’t get rid of the smile pinching my cheeks. 

“You’re looking like a lawyer already, Boops!” Skye comments as I stop in front of her at the island. She sets down her Winnie the Pooh mug and just smiles at me. It’s a rare occurrence. “And don’t you start saying that I can’t call you that. I’d say it’s rather fitting for a day like this.”

“Fine. Only today you can call me that old nickname that’s been dead for decades,” I reply before looking down at my outfit. “I’m not too overdressed, am I?”

“No, I think you look very nice. And you should dress to impress, they say.”

“Mmmmhmm,” I respond, flattening the patterned long-sleeve blouse I wear. Black jeggings cover my lower half. 

“Are you excited?” Skye’s question hits me as I reach for a glass from the cupboard. I watch the golden orange juice splash into it. 

“Yeah, I really am. I know I’ve already been down this road, but I feel so much more confident and excited this time around.”

“Well that says something,” she replies and I nod at her answer. The slice of bread sinks into the toaster as I set down the jar of jam with my other hand.  

I grab a plate and scoop the rest of the scrambled eggs onto it that Skye left for me. “I’m dying a girl’s hair rainbow today, so there’s my big bang,” she comments enthusiastically with her sky-blue eyes twinkling. I smile at the excitement in her voice.

It finally looks like we’ve found our callings, I think to myself. A second later, I almost cringe at myself, but at the same time, I’m grateful for the happy thought. 

“So most of your classes are online?” 

“Yeah, but I have this one that I have to go on campus for. It’s one of the important ones,” I reply before a bite of scrambled eggs passes my lips. 

Ding! 

Dragging my phone across the counter, I look at my lit-up screen. A new text appears on my screen to join the others. 

Asher:

Good luck on your 1st day back!!! Hoping everything goes well and you get nice teachers!!! Take deep breaths!!! Dont forget to tell me how it went :) 

Sophie (Boss):

Wishing you a great first day back, Becky! We’re all so proud of you and we can’t wait to see the great things you do! Good luck! 

Robbie:

Proud of u for going back Ree. Keep ur chin up. I cant wait 2 hear all about it. Excited 2 hang out with u and dad this weekend back home. Love u sis. 

Daddy:

Happy 1st day of school 2 my big 25 year old! I hope ur 1st day back is gr8 Boops. Good luck! Take ur time & ask ?s. Call when u get home. I want 2 hear how it went. Love u! xoxo

A smile creases my cheeks as I read the words. I hear his familiar voice inside of my head, and warmth radiates through my chest. It makes me ache for one of his hugs and forehead kisses. I swipe right on my Dad’s text and click on the space to enter my own text. 

Thanks so much, Dad! I’m really excited, but nervous. I feel like people might know I’m the dropout… But luckily I only have only one face-to-face class, and the rest are online. I hope that you are feeling better. Let me know if you need anything. I can’t wait to see you this weekend! Love you, Daddy! Xoxoxoxo

The lecture hall is smaller than I remember, and less run down. Hmmm, maybe my experience is actually going to help me to not be so afraid and intimidated, I think to myself. After walking up several stairs, I choose an empty table in the middle of the hall. Students mill around talking and checking online course content and Snapchat. Their chatter fills my ears as I set down my violet backpack and sit down. I place my laptop in front of me, along with a fresh notebook, my planner, and my little bag of pens and pencils. As I boot up my new laptop, the seats around me fill up. It’s not long before the professor takes a seat at the table at the front. His graying hair is tied into a short pony at the back of his head. The class quiets down at his arrival, but there aren’t many of us in the cohort. Around 50 or so. 

Looking up behind his horn-rimmed glasses, a smile sparks behind his thick gray beard. “Oh, don’t mind me. We still have a couple of minutes until class starts, and I’m sure this bloody computer will take that and longer to start up,” he quips, and my classmates and I reply with laughter. “If everybody’s here, we can at least start with introductions. Shall we?”

“I’m Professor Alcott and I’ll be your guide for Criminal Law this semester. It’s great to see a group of smiling faces eager to dive into the nastier side of law. I practiced full-time for around 25 years until I arrived at this university. I thought I’d like to guide young minds into the law world, and so here I am. I still practice occasionally when I’m not teaching. It fulfills my craving to be back in the courtroom when I’m not in the classroom. Now, who would like to go next?”

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

+

“It sounds like your first day couldn’t have gone better, Boops.”

“Yeah, I actually think you’re right, Dad,” I reply, sinking lower into the welcoming sheets of my bed. 

“You don’t have to say it like I’m not usually right,” my dad jokes back with a weak laugh. My smile falls at that, wondering if I’ve ever heard a hearty chuckle absent from his voice.

“I-I’m not, don’t worry . . Are you feeling any better, or are you still having those um pains you were talking about?” I ask tentatively, worry and care sewn into my words. 

“I’m okay. They come and go,” he replies softly with few words. 

“Are you going to go to the doctor like I’ve been begging you?”

“Yes, Becky. I have an appointment for tomorrow morning. Just like I promised

you,” he replies with emphasis in his words. I try to find the fear in his words. But either he’s doing a great job of masking it, or it’s simply not there. 

“But you cancelled the last one, Dad.”

“I didn’t mean to cancel it, Becky,” he sighs. “I made it and found it got in the way of work. I forgot to reschedule it. I’m sorry.”

“I know, Dad. I just want you to get looked at. I don’t want something to be wrong,” I say quietly, feeling the fear creep up my throat. But I try my hardest to push it back down, because I can’t let it in. I can’t worry about my Dad anymore than I already am. I have school now and my job. I just can’t. 

“I know, sweetie, and neither do I. Everything’s going to be fine, my love. You needn’t worry,” my dad tells me in his soothing deep voice. The same voice that lulled me to sleep with bedtime stories, explained maths homework to me whilst I cried in frustration, and told me it was okay when I dropped out of law school. He’s always been there to tell me it’s going to be okay, and now I know I need to be the one telling him it’s going to be okay. 

I just hope that I’m telling him the truth. 

+

Madley looks just the same. But it doesn’t. 

New shops have opened up. Old ones have closed down. New developments have sprung up. Patches of woods have been cut down. The city park has a new playset instead of the one I grew up on. My former primary school has a new addition. Roads were redone. New ones were made. 

I made the drive easily, knowing it like the back of my hand by now. 

But at the same time, it’s hard. Because I have this off feeling sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach. And I can’t name it, or make it go away. It’s been there all morning, and I can’t figure out how to get it to go away. 

It grows as my footsteps sound on the sidewalk leading to the front door of the house I grew up in. Shoots of grass inch through new cracks in the cement. The daffodils wilt against the steps leading to the front door. 

The feeling in my gut flares, making me stop. I take a second to look harder. The cream paint that’s defined my childhood home is peeling in places. The grass hasn’t been cut in a while. I can’t remember the last time I saw it long, and not neatly cut. Patches of prematurely fallen leaves scatter the usually clean walkway. The glass window panes on the top half of the door are smudged and dirty. I don’t get another second to look harder, because the front door opens and a smile waits for me. 

Perhaps my favorite one. 

“Hi, baby girl,” my dad coos, letting go of the door. It creaks before closing as I watch my dad pad down the steps and wrap me in a hug. 

I exhale into my dad’s chest clad in one of his typical Nike jumpers. Letting go of my suitcase, my arms find their way around him by instinct. 

“How was your trip?” he asks in his deep voice. His scruffy cheek falls onto the top of my head, and he holds me against his chest.  

“Good, thanks. The usual,” I reply. I squeeze him and try not to notice how my arms go around him easier than the last time. I just try to find comfort in his familiar smell of the same laundry detergent he’s used for 30 years. 

“Good. Robbie just got here. I’m finishing up lunch right now, it’s almost ready,” he informs me. 

“Oh no, don’t leave Robbie around food cooking on an open flame,” I joke, feeling one of his large hands comb through the hair at the top of my head. 

He laughs and mine echoes his. But I’m afraid that they’re both forced. Dad releases me from the cocoon-like hug, but not before planting a kiss on my forehead. The same kind of kiss he’s given me since the day I was born. Always the forehead. 

“We better hustle then,” he quips, stepping to the side to pick up my violet suitcase. I smile at him and he mirrors it as he holds the door open for me. 

“I think something’s burning!” I hear Robbie exclaim in a confused tone. 

“How do you even survive on your own?” I answer, toeing off my shoes in the entryway. I push them to the side with my foot to sit on the red rug. Beside Dad’s white Nikes green from mowing the lawn. Robbie’s black vans. 

“On microwavable ramen, hot pockets, cereal, and chicken nuggets. Duh,” Robbie replies, garnishing an eye roll from me. But he can’t see it. 

The same brown plaid couch stares back at me a few feet away in the living room. My dad sets my suitcase down by the wooden stairs a few steps in front of me. 

“You just stir it, you goon!” my dad tells Robbie, padding through the living room in his classic Levi jeans. “Did I teach you nothing when it came to cooking, or did you tune out that day?”

A Chelsea vs. Arsenal game plays softly on the telly. But its only viewer is the In-Fisherman magazine sloppily laid on the couch. 

“No, I’m pretty sure I was stoned that day,” Robbie replies softly with a wry chuckle. My dad sighs and clucks his tongue at my brother. 

“Any day now, Ree!” Robbie shouts to me. But I hardly hear him, because my thoughts are wound up in the uncharacteristic pill bottles I see on the side table. And the brochures that I can’t make out from this distance. I recognize a few as take-away. One has lots of words that I can’t read, but it makes my heart shrink regardless. 

“Hey, everything alright?” 

I look up and watch Robbie walk into the room. His pale skin the same shade as mine peeks out from the trendy holes in his blue jeans. He pushes his black button-down aside to pocket his hands. A familiar Marvel shirt peeks out from underneath. 

Swallowing, my lips part, “Did Dad tell you what the doctor said?” I ask nervously, keeping my volume low so only he hears. 

“No,” Robbie responds quietly. And I hear it in his voice. Because it’s the same thing I just heard in mine. 

“Rob,” I mumble, looking him in the eyes. I feel something pass between us, and somehow I know that he’s thinking the same thing as me. 

I look up at the ceiling, trying to will the tears away, but it never works. Because I’ve tried it so many times in the last few days as I worried why my dad didn’t tell me what his doctor said on Tuesday. 

“Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. Why don’t you lot go and wash up?” my dad announces, and I nod automatically. But I know I can’t go upstairs and wash my hands in the sink that I have for the last 20 years. And that my dad does every day. 

Before I know it, the fall sunshine is welcoming me back. I don’t hear the door close with a metallic smack. All I hear are soft footsteps and the sound of sobs leaving my lips. I blink and feel Robbie’s arms go around me. 

“I’m scared, too,” he confesses, tears choking his words that echo my silent ones. 

“I’m so afraid that he is, too,” I reveal into his neck that soon grows slick with my tears. 

“Did you notice how he looks?” Robbie asks into the crown of my head, his lips moving against my hair. I feel his warm tears meet my scalp. 

“Mmmhmm. He’s so pale. And he’s lost weight.”

“Yeah, and he tries not to show it, but he’s tired,” Robbie adds in. His chest shakes underneath me and I hear him hiccup from the crying. “I dunno if he’ll even eat. It looks like he hasn’t been recently. There’s like nothing in the fridge, Ree. We need to buy him groceries. It looks like he hasn’t left the house in days.”

All I can do is nod, and I do. Because the tears are too thick, and what am I even supposed to say? How do I put these terrible feelings into words, much less ones that make sense? 

“I know, Ree, I know,” Robbie coos soothingly.

But somehow it brings me comfort to know that Robbie is feeling all of the same things and having all of the same thoughts as me. Stupid twin intuition or not, I just know. And at the same time, it makes my heart squeeze harder in pain. 

“Kids, come on!” We hear our dad call from inside the house. 

I leave Robbie’s arms and find his tear stricken face looking down at the ground. I brush the hair out of his eyes; the hair the same dark chocolate color as mine. His eyes the same ice blue as my own meet mine painfully. I swipe my finger under them to catch the tears. His fingers wrap around my hand and give it a squeeze. 

“Let’s go eat lunch with our dad,” he mumbles, his voice still shaky. 

I nod and squeeze it back. The same hand I’ve been holding ever since before I was born. 

My partner in crime for life. 

My twin. 

“Go and splash cold water on your face, it’ll help. You can always say that I splashed soap in your eye.”

“Yeah, and how’s that going to sound if that happened to both of us?” he questions, pulling me by the hand into the house with a laugh. I make sure to close the door quietly before following him up the staircase. The sound of our dad’s whistling carries up the stairs and to my ears. 

I savor it. 

I never want to forget the first music I ever heard, and the one that never fails to calm me. Next to his soothing voice. 

My daddy.

+

 The rest of our day was better, but worrying about my dad was always at the back of everything. Silent, yet nagging. It interrupted all of the moments. 

The laughing over a plate of home-cooked food. 

The jokes and stories that passed the time of washing dishes. 

The traditional walk around the block. 

Our visit to the local library’s book sale. 

Dad’s usual drive around town filling us in on everything we’ve missed. 

So and so died. 

She had a kid. 

They got married. 

They’re building this there. 

That bloke went to jail. 

It disrupted watching reruns of Doctor Who on BBC. 

It returned after a cozy mid-day nap at dad’s elbow, strong as before. 

It nagged at the back of my head when the phone would ring. 

It sat in the circles of Robbie’s eyes when they locked with mine. 

It filled the empty spaces between our conversations. 

That question sat at the back of my head and in the pit of my stomach all day. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask it. Because I couldn’t confront the possibility of hearing the answer I dreaded most. 

“Boy, you make one good pizza, baby girl,” my dad smiles as he stretches his arms to the ceiling. 

I nod, slapping an automatic smile on my face. It doesn’t stay long when my eyes carry over to his plate holding the third slice he couldn’t eat. Another detail I noticed that’s unlike him. Because I can’t stop noticing them, and each one hurts more than the last. 

Before I can stop it like all of the other times, my vision grows blurry. I feel my throat take after it and I couldn’t swallow if I tried. I lift my eyes over to Robbie across the small kitchen table, and it takes a second. But he feels me looking at him and hesitantly makes eye contact with me. He nods after a second. Watching the tears fill his eyes makes the first one fall from mine. 

I sniffle out of habit and see my dad turn to look at me out of the corner of his eye. That parent hearing, that intuition. Heat rises to my cheeks and I hear my name leave his lips. Then he turns to look at Robbie and sighs. 

“Dad, I can’t pretend anymore. I’m sorry, but I can’t. We can’t,” I say, my voice breaking at the beginning and staying that way. Tears shadow all of my words, and they only grow worse when I feel Robbie grab my hand under the table. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay because we know that it isn’t,” I finish, finally taking the next dreaded step. I look my father in the eyes and find in them the answer I’ve been searching for all day long. 

His ice-blue eyes, the same color as mine and Robbie’s, stare back at me. They too are full of unspent tears, but it doesn’t last long. Soon they are falling down his cheeks stubbly with graying hair. His long, tan fingers comb through his hair the same shade as that of the hair on his children’s heads. Gray streaks speckled throughout fall from his fingers when he lets go. He clenches his hand into a fist that hits the table. Dad stares it before he lets it relax. 

Looking back up, my heart lurches when his eyes reconnect with mine. Because I know what he’s going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. 

“I have prostate cancer . . Stage 2. That’s all they know right now.” 

Dropping Robbie’s hand, the kitchen chair moves back with a whine. I put one foot in front of the other before my hand is opening the door. My resolve falls when I reach the last cement step, and my legs can’t go any further. My butt lands on the step and I fall into myself. I feel the tears spill from my eyes and coat the legs of my jeans. Loud sobs leave my lips as my entire body shudders with each one. 

No. No. No. No. No 

No, not my daddy. 

Why my daddy?

Why my daddy who had to put up with an awful wife for years?

Why my daddy who gave his children everything they wanted?

Why my daddy who gave so much to everybody else?

He gave so much and did so much and this happens to him. 

No. Not him. It has to be some mistake. 

I can’t lose my daddy. 

I lost my grandpa and then Harry. 

I can’t lose another person I love. 

I can’t imagine not hearing his voice on the other side of the phone. Or not getting his hugs that seem to fix everything. Or hearing his whistling or god awful singing. 

I can’t live without my dad. 

Sniffling, my fingers search blindly for my phone. Finding it in my back pocket, I turn my head slightly to look through blurry eyes. Unlocking it, I press on the app I look for. My fingers race across the screen with each number. Then, the name inside of my head shows up on the screen. 

Harry 

My thumb wavers over the phone icon. I swallow and feel another tear hit my cheek. How is it that I haven’t heard your voice or seen your face in almost 9 months, and yet it’s the only one I want right now? 

I close my eyes and feel my forehead return to my knees. Pressing a button, my phone locks with a clicking sound. My arms wrap around my knees pulled to my chest, and I feel every tear. And every thought. 

Until minutes later when a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me into their chest. I let my head fall onto them as it shakes with a sob. And then another pair of arms wrap around us. I feel a kiss to my forehead before the stubbly cheek tickles the top of my head. 

“I’m not going anywhere, kids. I s-still need to see you lot get married. I need to watch you kick ass and become a lawyer. And walk Ree down the aisle, and make sure Bee names his firstborn son after me,” my dad cries, pulling his two children into the confines of his trembling chest. Robbie and I laugh, and our dad’s weak one echoes our own. “I’m gonna fight this. I might need your help, but I’m not giving up that easily. Your old man’s not a woosy.”

Laughs surround our tears as I hold onto my dad and my brother. A large part of my small world. 

“I’m not going anywhere, dad,” Robbie gets out with tear-soaked words. 

“And neither am I, daddy,” I echo, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck. 

I peek my eyes open and find Robbie on the other side of my knees. His head is lying on dad’s other shoulder. He reaches a hand across and intertwines his free hand with the one not wrapped around our dad. Unspoken words pass between us. After a few seconds, I know that the words we just spoke we promised to not just our dad, but to each other. 

We ask questions and he answers. He’s known for only a day or two. The appointment last Tuesday was for a checkup like he said. They were able to do the biopsy later in the day. We cry into each other, feeling the same fear and pain. Uncertainties sit in the air between us as the sun sets behind the oak trees in front of us. The scene in front of me couldn’t look any different from a night of my childhood. 

More than anything, I wish I could go back to one of those days. Ice lollies on the front steps sitting on dad’s jiggling knee. Him trying to get me to laugh. By his fingers tickling my ribs. His face contorting into funny faces. Or his imitations of characters I watched on the telly. His wrinkles and gray hairs gone. As well as his cute little beer belly. Mom calling for me to get in the bath with Robbie from inside the house. The Rolling Stones playing on the radio inside. Sounds of neighbor kids mingling with the music, as well as dogs barking. But we stay there and watch the shades of the rainbow paint the sky. 

Although I know that I can’t go back, I let myself sit in that safe memory for a moment longer. Because sitting on my dad’s strong, tan knee in that 4-year old moment, everything was okay. And I want to enjoy that for a few minutes longer before I have to return to reality. Before I have to start living in a reality where things won’t be okay for a while, because my daddy isn’t okay. And because of that, neither am I. 

I don’t know when I will be again. 

+

My footsteps echo on the tile floor. Each one makes a sound with its own name, like in the Dr. Seuss books my mum would read to me when I was a kid. 

Plop. 

Klopp. 

Dopp. 

“Would you bloody leave already? I’m sick of seeing your bleeding face,” a voice quips from behind me. 

I turn to find Myles following me. He titters with a smirk covering his stubbly face. 

“Oh, would ya shuddup?” I return with a shake of my head, combing my fingers through my hair, but not much hair greets them. 

“I thought you were done putting in these late nights,” he comments, his steps echoing my own now. 

Pushing open the door to the supply room, I step up to the copier. “Nah, I still have sum stuff t’ finish up. Gotta prep fer my case that starts Monday,” I answer him, punching in my code on the touch screen. 

A long ‘ah’ leaves his lips as he rummages in something behind me. Probably knicking some more of the nice pens before they’re gone. 

“Well, I’m not a workaholic like you, so I’m leaving work before 5 on a Friday,” he tells me, assuming that I care. I chuckle, shaking my head at his pompous words. The copier sounds back at me, and takes the paper away with a woosh. “Please don’t bloody sleep here again. I don’t wanna have to hear complaints from the cleaning staff. And I don’t wanna have to pay you more than I have to.” 

“I pay meself, ya cheeky bastard,” I scoff, turning to find him grinning as he stands with a foot out the door. 

But his smile falls and along with it comes a squeeze on the arm from him. “Really, Hare, if you need to sleepover here I don’t mind. I know it wasn’t a nice joke . . I’m glad to see you’re doing better, though. Meaning, not as many empty bottles in your bin,” Myles continues softly. My amused expression falls when the seriousness arrives in his tone. “Yeah, I noticed ‘em, mate. Glad they’re not there anymore. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Keep at it.” 

All I know to do is nod. He returns it and I watch the back of his blonde head walk away. I sigh, picking up the stack of papers waiting on the tray. I grab the original and rummage in the drawers until I find a binder clip. I fasten the papers together as I take my time walking back to my office. It’s even a little quieter than a few minutes ago. When I glance at my watch, I see why. It’s 5 o’clock on the dot. 

Myles is gone. 

Amelia is too. 

Mick’s office door is dark and closed. 

So is Rory’s, to no surprise, because he probably went out for drinks with My. 

Rose is still working hard behind her closed door that classical music trickles out of. 

Pete nods at me as I pass him in the hallway with an empty mug. Probably on his way for a refill. 

But another person is still here. I see him before he sees me, but when he does I follow him to the shiny metal sliding doors. 

“Ya aren’t anxious t’ get a start on yer weekend like e’rybody else? Or did somethin’ in IT break an’ ya gotta fix it?” I ask, stepping onto the elevator. 

“Not really. It’s supposed to rain all weekend, so what’s the fun in that?” Asher replies, stabbing a random button. By now, I know the drill. 

Push a random button and we have that long to talk. 

About her. 

“Good ol’ Fall rainstorms,” I comment, and he nods silently. 

I hum a tune as the elevator dings with each floor we pass. And he doesn’t say a word, and yet neither do I. Because the point of these secret meetings is for him to talk. And for the most part, I just listen. It’s a silent understanding by now, or so I think. 

“Yer makin’ me nervous not sayin’ anythin’,” I say, trying to laugh and offset the awkwardness. But it doesn’t help. And neither does the distraught look on his face when he meets my eyes. 

“I need to tell you something,” he confesses quietly. 

“Well ya, tha’s kinda tha whole point o’ these secret elevator meetin’s,” I smile, trying again to liven up the atmosphere. But he doesn’t smile, or crack a joke. 

The smile I was toting around falls, and my mind swarms with thoughts. 

Scary ones. 

Worrying ones. 

Questions. 

Worst-case scenarios. 

“Asher, i-is Becks okay? Did something happen?” I hurry, the words tumbling from my lips. 

“Yeah, she’s okay, Harry. I guess you could say that.”

“Well, ‘s she hurt? Did she get inna accident? Break a bone? What ‘s it?” I ask, question after question spilling out. 

“No, none of that,” he answers, shaking his head emphatically. “She’s fine, physically.”

“Then what?!” I continue, prodding him for answers that he won’t give up. 

But the last part of what he says gets me. It hints at what he’s about to say, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. It doesn’t pull a relieved sigh from my lips like I wish it could, but it’s not like that. 

When the gleaming metal doors slide open on the first floor, nobody is waiting there. Asher doesn’t give me time to look if anybody is coming, because he presses another button. Now, I know it’s serious. Pushed another button for extra time. Something happened. 

“Asher-.”

“She called me crying last night,” he begins. His voice is quiet and he sounds like he’s trying to keep the emotions out of it, but they’re heard in every word. “Her dad found out he has prostate cancer, and she’s a mess. I dunno how to help her, or if you could either. But I just hate seeing her in pain and upset,” he reveals, the words loaded and dark. 

I feel my back hit the railing on the wall, but I didn’t know that I was backing up into it. Something inside of my chest falls and for the first time in weeks, my thoughts are flooded with her. And I’m worrying about her, missing her, and wanting to hear her voice. I’m feeling all of the things and thoughts I’ve done such a great job at suppressing for the last few weeks. 

Because before, only the alcohol could, but I couldn’t do that anymore. I knew she’d be disappointed. And once that thought wormed its way into my brain, I couldn’t entertain it for more than a minute. And so I dumped out the bottles and threw them in the bin. 

Now, I feel myself fill with regret at that because once again I want to drown the feelings. 

Because I’m hurting thinking about all of the hurt and pain she’s feeling. 

“Yeah, I know whatcha mean,” is all I can say, because how the fuck do I put these thoughts into proper words? “Did she say anythin’ else ‘bout his diagnosis? Stages? Surgery? Chemo?”

“It’s still early, she doesn’t know a lot yet. I guess nobody does. He only just told her and Robbie last weekend. She’s trying to figure out how to rearrange her life to help take care of him,” Asher explains. I nod because that’s what you do when you don’t know what to say. 

I don’t get a chance to ask any more questions, because the doors slide open again. A red-headed gentleman steps off 17 and I decide to step on. Looking over my shoulder, I meet eyes with Asher. “Thank you, Asher . . I mean it.” 

He nods and I return it before turning around and walking back to my office. Goodbyes past between Rose and I, her long blonde curls dancing on her shoulders. Thunder clouds boom overhead and seconds later, I hear the rain begin falling onto the skylights. It makes the sounds from another Dr. Seuss book. 

Splatt.

Boom!

Dibble Dibble. 

Dopp Dopp. 

Country music pours from Pete’s office, bringing a confused smile to my face. But it only stays for a second, because my thoughts return to Becky. I sigh, twisting open my office door. I stop in my tracks when I hear my Fleetwood Mac ringtone filling my office. 

But it stops, and only then do my feet awake. Rushing over to my desk, I drop the stack of copies next to my computer. Forgetting them and working on prep work for my case, I shuffle through the mess on my desk. I lift up papers. Move books. Toss pens aside. Rearrange folders and pads of paper. And then I find it. The screen is black as it’s cupped in my hand. 

But in a matter of seconds, I awaken it and see who I missed a call from. The breath in my lungs stills and my breathing halts. My ass hits my chair with a sigh, and I wheel around to face the window. Angry storm clouds await me as rain falls hard against the foggy class. Tapping my temple with my finger, my thumb sits inches away from the screen. I debate whether to call the person back or not. 

Why would I? 

How can I? 

Should I?

I don’t have to decide, because the voice of Stevie Nicks spills from my phone’s speakers. And the image of that person’s face fills my screen. Their smile. Their magical eyes. Without hesitation, I slide my thumb across the screen. And press it to my ear. 

“Hullo?” I say slowly, barely loud enough to hear myself. Because I can’t believe it.

“Harry?” the voice replies. A question frames their familiar accent, but something else does too. Thick tears. 

“Becks . . are ya okay, love?”

[xwaywardhuntress]

Mini Me

Summary: Imagine Y/N is turned into a child thanks to a witch and...Dean.

Pairings: Dean x reader

Warnings: Curse words. Implied sexual activities (When reader is an adult, not a child.)

Word Count: 3600+

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. This is fanfiction only. Please do not redistribute my writings on other sites, horrible or not. Thanks!

Author’s note: This was something I whipped up quickly at work since it was a slow day. Not sure I like it but will share anyway since I haven’t posted much recently.

“This isn’t funny, guys.” You firmly stated with your much smaller arms crossed.

Dean and Sam couldn’t help the smile that formed on their lips, as they were failing horribly at stifling a laugh.

You stomped on the ground with your smaller feet, annoyed that they were finding this amusing. It was the complete opposite for you. You ended up stepping on your oversized jeans and fell on your knees. “Ow! Shit!”

“Hey, watch the language, Y/N.” Sam ordered but then went back to smiling at you as he couldn’t stay mad at your adorable form for long.

Dean had made his way to you as he picked you up, “Alright my little munchkin, let me help you out.”

“Deaaaan! I’m not a munchkin! I’m a grown woman in a child’s body!” You whined as you hit him with your small fists that didn’t hurt him at all. “Let me down! I can walk on my own!”

Dean rolled his eyes as he let out a sigh before putting you back down. “Just trying to help sweetheart.”

“You can help by finding a way to get me back into my normal body!” You grumbled grabbing onto your oversize clothes to keep from falling off.

Sam squatted near you, “Your body can’t be more than 5 years old. You were pretty cute as a child, you know?” He smiled at you as he patted your head.

“So help me Sam! I will show you what’s cute if you keep that patting up.” You muttered loud enough that both brothers heard you.

Sam immediately winced standing back up. “In a child’s body, but still definitely older Y/N.”

Dean came over and picked you up despite your complaints as he seated you on the top of the table. He thought sitting might help the struggle he noticed with your big clothes. Instead, it just made you more adorable. “Damn, that backfired. You’re still super cute.” He said as he stood in front of you with Sam.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you crossed your arm.

“Okay, we’ve had enough fun for now. We need to figure out how Y/N turned into little Y/N.” Sam commented. “What’s the last thing you remember doing yesterday?”

You uncrossed your arms and then rubbed the bottom of your chin in thought. “Umm, the normal stuff? Got ready for bed, then went to sleep and cuddled with Dean.”

Sam turned to his brother, “And you didn’t notice she had turned into a child this morning before you got out of bed?”

“What? No, she was facing away from me all snuggled up under the blanket. I figured I’d leave her be and let her sleep in, maybe make some breakfast in bed for her, being the good boyfriend that I am.” Dean proudly stated.

“Hm. Maybe the witch we were last hunting did something to her?” Sam questioned.

Lightbulb on! You remembered the witch blew something into your face before Dean came in and killed her. You didn’t think to mention it as she was dead now.

“That was last week though and we took care of her already.” Dean answered for you.

“Actually….” You squirmed in your oversized clothes.

Dean looked over at you, raising a brow. “What is it?”

“Well…right before you came in and killed her, she blew something onto me but I figured since we killed her, whatever she blew onto me wouldn’t happen, right?” You smiled at both of the boys as if you were innocent of holding back this information.

You were too cute that they couldn’t hold your withheld information against you. Sam sighed. “It seems like whatever she spelled you with had a late reaction and still happened.”

“Am I going to be stuck like this forever?” You looked between both of the boys as the realization hit you that you had no idea what the witch could’ve done to you. Yours eyes began to water. You did not want to be stuck as a child. You had no idea how to even be a child being raised as a hunter’s kid.

“Woah there, babe. “ Dean came up to you, rubbing his hands along your upper arms to calm you. “You definitely won’t be stuck like this forever. We’ll figure out a way to turn you back.”

“He’s right, Y/N. I’ll start going through the books now for any de-aging spells.” Sam mentioned, trying to help calm you.

You rubbed at your eyes, trying to keep from crying.

“We’ll call Cas and Jack too. Maybe they can help.” Dean added as he looked at Sam to nod him off to start looking through the books. “Alright sweetheart, I’m going to bring you to the kitchen and make you pancakes. I’ll ask Cas and Jack to pick up some more fitting clothes for you on their way back here.”

You nodded your head as you held your arms out to hold onto Dean as he carried you. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but being carried by Dean was nice.

-   -   -

When word got out to Cas and Jack from Dean, they immediately headed back to the bunker, picking up five year old clothes on the way back. As you sat on the table with your legs dangling, you had changed into a small flannel and jeggings that the angel and nephilim picked out for you.

Dean, Sam and Cas had been talking together near the hallway about the issue at hand. Jack was admiring your little form, also finding your younger self adorable.

“So were Dean and Sam also this small at one point?” Jack asked you.

You giggled which made Jack smile, “Of course. We all were at one point.”

“I see.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry Jack. I forgot you had to grow up fast like your mother asked you.” You frowned. Actually, now that you thought about it, it was probably the same for most of you that were raised by hunters. You all had to grow up to be able to protect yourself and others.

The three men that were busy in discussion came over to join you and Jack.

You looked up at each of them. “What’s the damage, boys?”

The three looked at each other before one answered, which wasn’t a good sign in your opinion.

Dean took the initiative to share, “Cas said it’s not permanent and he thinks the spell should be gone by the end of the week. So you’ll have to bear with it till then, sweetheart.”

Cas and Sam looked over at Dean as if they were trying to guilt trip him into saying more.

You noticed as your view consisted entirely of the three tall men before you. “Is there more?” You asked as you looked from each of them and then landed your eyes back on the Oldest Winchester.

Dean looked at Cas and Sam who still shared the same look of there’s more as he smiled almost embarrassingly and licked his lips. “Nope.” He popped the p.

You questioned Dean’s reaction. He was definitely not sharing everything and you could tell the moment he licked his lips. Choosing to ignore whatever he was hiding for now, you decided to ask the next question in your mind. “So what’s the spell that was put on me exactly?”

Cas and Sam immediately looked at Dean, which you ended up doing as well.

“Don’t worry about it! You’ll be back to yourself at the end of the week! Or sooner! Just enjoy being a little kid!” Dean laughed as he turned around walking off, mumbling, “I need a beer.”

“Cas! Sam! What is Dean not telling me?” You asked once Dean was out of the room glaring at them, which the rest of the room found adorable still.

Sam smiled that smile that spelled out he would tell you if he could, but still wouldn’t.

It was Cas who just came out with it. “It’s a wishing spell.”

Sam nudged Cas as he gave him a look to stop talking.

“Did Y/N wish to be a kid?” Jack asked the obvious question.

You stood up on the table, “No! Why- why would I? I’m like perfect bait for the monsters we hunt in this form! You two, tell me more!” You pointed to both of them.

Sam chuckled, “Calm down, Y/N. Look it’s not exactly for us to tell.”

“It was Dean’s wish.” Castiel answered.

Sam sighed, knowing fully well what was about to go down.

Your eyes widened at Cas’s comment. “DEAAAAAAAAAAAAN!” You yelled in your childlike voice.

Dean came running into the big room, with a gun in his hand, “W-what happened?” When he saw that everyone was okay and still planted in the spots they were at before he left, he let out a breath of air as he put away his weapon.

You had hopped off the table and made your way towards the older Winchester, stomping your little feet. “DEAN WINCHESTER. WHY DID YOU WISH FOR ME TO BE A CHILD?!” As angry as you were, you only came off as cute to everyone else.

If you have been in your normal body, Dean would’ve been frightened by the tone of your voice, but being the little kid that you were, he was the opposite of afraid. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He crossed his arms, obviously lying.

You grumbled as you started punching his leg. “Don’t lie to me! Tell me the truth!” You whined.

“Ow, okay, okay.” He squatted, placing his hands in front of your fists. “Geez, for a little kid, you can pack a punch. Alright, I may have wished for it.”

You stopped punching as you looked at him with watery eyes from the frustration you felt.

Dean looked at his brother, the angel, and the nephilim. Through his eyes, he was telling them to leave the two of you alone. When the others left, he picked you up, setting you back to sit on the table. He took a seat in a chair in front of you.

You had wiped your watery eyes away as you waited for Dean to speak.

“Look, if I had known that thinking about you being a child would actually make it happen, I wouldn’t have wished to see you like this.” He smiled awkwardly.

“And why would you want to know how I looked like as a kid?” You asked raising your little brow at him.

He ran a hand down his face as he mumbled one word that you couldn’t quite catch.

“What?” You asked as you watched him avoid eye contact with you.

“Kids.” He spoke softly as he sighed and finally decided to look back up at you. “I was imagining what our kids could look like.”

Your face grew warm from Dean’s sudden reveal. Sure, you two had been together for a couple of years now. Sure, you had agreed with him that life as a hunter could never lead to an apple pie life. But the discussion about having actual kids together had never come up before. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought about it though once in a blue moon. “Oh.” The only thing you seemed to be able to speak.

Dean chuckled, feeling more vulnerable than usual. “Sorry if I made this weird. I know we haven’t talked about that topic yet. I just….yeah.” He stopped talking before he felt like he was really embarrassing himself.

There was silence for a moment as you thought about what he had said.

Before you could share how you felt about the topic, Jack walked in. “Dean, are you and Y/N done talking yet? It’s quiet.”

Cas had been on the nephilim’s tail as he entered behind Jack. “Jack…you can’t just ask that, they’re obviously not done yet.”

“Yeah, we’re done.” Dean answered as he stood up, smiling at you. “Now, you know…” He said as he walked away.

Being little, there was no way to stop Dean as Jack smiled making his way over to you. “Cas told me about an indoor trampoline park that kids go to and I want to go with you.”

Your eyes lingered on Dean’s back as he walked away and past Cas. It was probably best to discuss about kids when you were back to your normal self. You turned your attentions to Jack with a slight smile. “Um, okay sure, let’s go.”

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed as he turned to Cas. “She said we can go!”

Cas and Sam had taken you and Jack to the indoor trampoline park. Sam had asked Dean if he wanted to join but he had locked himself in his room blasting music in his headphones.

You had never jumped on a trampoline before, but when you took the first jump, you had felt so carefree. Eventually Sam and Cas even joined in with you and Jack. At the end, their age got the better of them as they started to feel sick. You and Jack had a craving for ice cream after, which Sam and Cas did not share. You all ended up buying more than just ice cream, like a pie, whip cream, and cookies. When you got back to the bunker, Dean seemed to be okay now, especially with the pie you had brought back specifically for him.

The spell had lasted about four more days. At first, you hated being treated as a kid by strangers when you went out with one of the boys. Jack had seemed to take advantage of your child form as he insisted on bringing you to do child activities, joining in as well as “your older brother”. The both of you were able to experience how a normal kid should feel growing up. So by the end of the spell, you were starting to enjoy being a kid. On the last day of the spell, there was a case that came up that Dean and Sam took upon themselves to take care of, which left you with Cas and Jack.

Waking up with your back slightly hurting and laying on a stack of pillows, you remembered parts of last night. You and Jack had built a pillow fort while watching Tangled for the 3rd time as it was safe to assume that you fell asleep during it.

As you got up from the mountain of pillows, you noticed that your eyesight level had changed as you heard the familiar boyish voice, “Y/N! You’re back to normal!” Jack had come up to you with a hug. Luckily, during last night’s movie night you wore one of Dean’s shirts and the leggings you had on had stretched more into capris’.  “I’m glad you’re back, even though I did enjoy little Y/N as well.” He said smiling as he pulled away from the hug. “We should still do some of the stuff we did before.”

You smiled at Jack, his innocence was just too pure for this world. “Of course, Jack.”

“Y/N…” You heard another familiar voice. “You’re back to normal.” It was Cas. You walked up to the angel as he also went in for the hug. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Thanks, it feels almost weird to be taller, but also good to not be a child anymore.” You commented as you then decided it would be best to get into a change of clothes.

Throughout the rest of the day until Dean and Sam returned, you and Jack had gone out to run errands, mostly to buy groceries to prepare a dinner for the brothers when they returned. When the Winchesters both came home that evening to find you back to your normal self, they were both happy and sad that they wouldn’t be able to witness your cute little kid self anymore.

-   -   -

About three months had passed since that spell was casted upon you. You and Dean still hadn’t talked about the conversation of kids since, but today would be different as you stared at the multiple plus signs. That morning, you had snuck your way out to see a doctor who confirmed that you had been about a month and a half pregnant. You were hopeful that since Dean had thought about it at one point that he would be happy with this result. It wasn’t too surprising that it happened, Dean had been sexually frustrated while you were a kid and you were more than willing to help relieve his frustrations once you had your normal body back.

An idea of how to tell Dean the news struck you as you looked over at the pile of clothes in a box that you kept when you were turned into a child. You had placed a box on the top of your shared bed with a note that said ‘open’.

When Dean came home from running errands and entered the empty shared bedroom with the box on the bed, he opened it as it was written. What he found inside were the clothes you wore when you were a kid. Confused, he called out for you.

Entering the room, you tried to look innocent. “You called?”

Dean held your kid clothes in the air. “Why was there a box of your kid clothes that said open on it? I didn’t even know that you kept these after that happened.”

“Oh, I thought it would be nice to keep them for any kids that I have in the future.” You said nonchalantly.

Dean almost froze at the word kids. He had been purposely avoiding the talk since his reveal to you when you had been turned into a kid. It wasn’t that he changed his mind, he was more afraid that you didn’t share his desire for kids with each other as you never said anything after. “Okay then.” He said as he placed the kid clothes back in the box, still trying to avoid the topic of kids.

You narrowed your eyes as you knew what he was trying to do. “Dean, didn’t you once tell me that you thought about how our kids would like?”

Dean froze this time. He knew there was no escaping it. “Uh yeah, and I’m sorry again that it turned you into a child. I should probably get dinner started.” He said trying to leave your shared bedroom.

You placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “Dinner can wait a bit. We need to talk about what you said before.”

The two of you sat on the bed as you held his hand within yours.

“Dean, I’ve also wandered about how our kids would look like. I know we’ve both agreed that a hunter’s life is not for a child but you’re it for me. If I were to have kids with anyone, it would be with you.” You smiled warmly at him as you could see he was still trying to process what you had said. “I love you, Dean. And I need to know if you would want kids with me one day.”

More like today, right now. You thought in your head.

Dean was not expecting for you to feel the same way, but after hearing your words, he easily answered you. “I wouldn’t want kids with anyone else, Y/N. I love you too.”

As he was about to lean in for a kiss during the tender moment, you stood up abruptly. “Okay, what if that one day was today?” You asked shyly as you looked at Dean.

Dean interpreted your question a bit differently as he stood up and grabbed your hands in his. “I mean if you want to start today to try for a kid, I’m more than ready. We’ll figure it all out later like we always do.” He grinned.

You bit your lip at Dean’s words. “Well, we’re actually past that point, sweetie.” You shared, hoping he’d catch on.

He looked at you questioningly. It looked like you had to spell it out for him. You let go of his hand and walked over to the box of clothes as you reached into the small hoodie pocket. You then held the one of many pregnancy test in your hand out to him. “We’re going to have a kid in about 9 or 8 months, I went to see a doctor this morning and I’m about a month and a half pregnant.” You smiled at him waiting for his reaction.

Dean went from shocked to concern, back to shock, then to thought, then back to shock again, and eventually had a huge smile on his face as he came up to you and twirled you in the air. “I’m going to be a father?!”

You giggled as he lifted you up.

He put you down as he pressed his lips to yours. “You’re going to be a mother. There could be another little you running around here soon!”

“Or a little Dean.” You added.

“No, no, it definitely is going to be a girl who’ll look as adorable as her mother did.” He said as he pressed his lips to yours again. “Now, I need to go tell Sammy that he’s going to be an uncle!” He exclaimed as he walked out of the room shouting that he’s going to be a father.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Let’s hope that if you are a girl, you’re not entirely a Mini Me. Your father will have lots of fun scaring boys away from you.” You sarcastically shared. “After all, I was definitely a cute kid.” You finally admitted as you rubbed your soon to be growing stomach, leaving to follow the shouting father-to-be who had gathered everyone to share the new in the library.

[salted-barbed-wire]

The Devil May Care

Chapter Three

Summary: Time to face your demons, girl. Word Count: 1443

Prelude.   Chapter One.   Chapter Two.        

What does one wear to a business meeting with the Devil? A pant suit? Or more casual?

Jeans, blouse, boots.

I shrugged, it sounded cute, yet practical for chasing demons. I looked in the mirror after I chose a blood red shirt with black lace, skinny ripped black jeggings, and my black work boots I had from when I use to work for my dad’s company. Outfit looked good, but damn did I need some concealer to cover up those dark circles under my eyes.

Sleep had not come so easily after that kiss with Aleister. My dreams were filled with him. Touching, kissing, biting, licking; things one shouldn’t fantasize about the Devil. He truly was tempting.

But this is the Devil, and he is my boss now. I think…

My buzzed and a number that read ‘666’ flashed across my screen. No way. I picked it up and answered it, “Hello?”

“Good morning, snojepe. I trust you slept well. Meet me at the Grind down the block from you in thirty minutes. I’ll be waiting.”

There was no waiting for me to answer, he just hung up. I rolled my eyes and dropped my phone. This is insane.

~

I walked into the shop exactly thirty minutes after he hung up on me. He sat in a corner booth, away from everyone, observing the business of the world around him. Aleister was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans; probably adorning boots similar to mine. I could tell his goal was to blend in with the more hipster-esque scene. Not hard dressed like that and tattoos on his arms displayed brilliantly.

Aleister locked eyes with me and the corners of his mouth turned upwards. I made my way towards him pass the hustle and bustle of college kids getting coffee. He stood as I approached the booth.

“Jaqueline,” he kissed my hand.

I slid into the booth, pulling my hand away from him, “could you quit doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Kissing my hand, using my full name, acting un-devilish.”

Aleister chuckled, “I don’t think ‘un-devilish’ is a word.”

“There’s a reason for that.” I muttered, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the carafe on our table.

His eyes watched me intently, “would you prefer me to be more animalistic? Maybe throw somethings, have my eyes turn black with rage, pin you against the wall and force my will on you?”

Heat rushed to my face, Yes!

“No!” I said too loudly, “no, I just mean. You can call me Jackie.”

Aleister’s smile actually touched his eyes, “noted.”

We sat there quietly, sipping at our mugs listening to others’ conversations. Finally, exhausted from the awkwardness, I cleared my throat, “So, what’s the game plan?”

“Glad you asked,” he sat forward, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “He’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

I blinked at him, “Um- What?”

“You’re going to go sit by yourself over there by the window,” Aleister pointed to a two-person table, with flowers sitting a vase. “He’s going to come in, you’ll make eye contact, smile at him, work your charm.”

I huffed and took a sip of coffee, “You over-estimate my ability to ‘charm’.”

“On the contrary, snojepe. You’re quite charming, plus I’ll be near to help you.”

“Why can’t you just grab him and seal him away?” I fell back against the back of the booth seat. “Why do I have to flirt with him?”

“He would dematerialize before I could grab him. Balor is quick, he would pick up my presence and then it would take me forever to find him again.” Aleister leaned closer to me, “If it means your freedom why are you questioning?”

“I’m just wondering, ‘why me’? I shrugged.

Aleister stared into my eyes. I could see his tongue playing with his lip ring as it moved. “What is it with humans, always wondering ‘Why me?’, ‘is this fair?’, you can’t see the gifts you have been given since the dawn of time.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

His sniffed the air, “I am. But I will explain later, should you perform well. It’s show time.”

Aleister’s hand rose into the air and he snapped. I blinked and was sitting at the table he had pointed at earlier. No one in the coffee shop even turned their attention to me, I looked around and Aleister was gone from the booth we had been sitting in.

“How the heck am I supposed to know what this fool looks like?” I sighed as my hand dropped onto the table.

I’ll tell you.

The voice inside of my head spoke to me.

It’s still talking to you.

“What. The actual fuck!” I said a little too loud. Heads around the coffee shop whirled towards.

Quit bringing attention to yourself. Smile.

I did as he said, smiling at the patrons around me before they went back about their business.

How is this possible?

I’ve been doing this for three years Jaqueline. Honestly, how did you not recognize my voice?

That’s creepy.

Only if you make it. There. He just walked up to the counter to make his order.

I looked up, seeing the back of a man’s head nodding as the barista was talking to him. She seemed spell bound, smiling like an idiot, batting her eyes. The man paid, then turned.

Ugliest creature imaginable. Right?

Wrong.

The man that turned and looked at me was absolutely gorgeous. His dark hair framed his chiseled features. He had piercing blue eyes, those likening the raging sea.

Smile. Balor is looking at you. Aleister’s voice hissed inside my head.

I did what I could and offered this stranger a smile. To my surprise, he smiled back; a toothy grin that touched his eyes.

Wow. He’s beautiful.

The voice in my head was silent as Balor stalked over to my table.

“Mornin’,” his accent was a thick Irish one.

Irish demon. Celtic. Aleister’s voice explained.

“Good morning, sir,” I said cheerily.

“Ah, it’s Finn, actually. Were you reading that?” He pointed down to a book that I swore wasn’t there before. It was a book I had picked out years ago on Irish folklore, specifically the fae legends.

Devil magic?

The slight grazing of an icy touch along my shoulder silently told me yes.

“I was, yes,” I said as I showed him the cover. “I borrowed this from the library a while back and thought I’d look into it again.”

He chuckled, “Honestly, that author isn’t as familiar with the lore as the rest of us.”

“Well, Finn, maybe you’d like to sit with me and go over some of the things he got wrong?”

Was that too bold?

Silence from any disembodied voices in my head.

“I’d love to,” Finn perked up. “Give me a second to grab my coffee.” He turned back to the counter to grab his to go cup.

Good girl. See what happens when you bat those pretty eyes of yours?

I huffed. You realize that I haven’t read this book in years and I’m not entirely sure I can even remember it, right?

Oh ye of little faith. The sound of laughter filled my head.

For the Devil, you’re kind of an idiot.

It’s endearing and you know it.

Wrong.

“You look tired,” Finn’s voice made me jump. “Or you’re just concentrating really hard on your thoughts.”

I forced a light laugh, “I uh- sorry, I didn’t get very much sleep last night.” My mind flashed to dreams I had the night before. I shook my head trying not to think about them.

Interesting.

I swallowed.

Finn’s blue eyes scanned my face, probably concerned by the blush rushing to my cheeks. He sipped his coffee. “I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me. It’s Jaqueline.”

Finn stuck his hand out and I took it. “Nice to meet you, Jaqueline,” He said before turning my hand over to kiss the back of it.

If I hadn’t been blushing before, I definitely was now. The way Finn’s accent spoke my name had me convinced that my parents had been pronouncing it wrong since birth.

Is everyone in hell this chivalrous? Or is it just you two?

I could almost feel Aleister’s presence smiling, taunting me.

“I-It’s Jackie. But nice to meet you too.” I stumbled over the words.

“Jackie,” he nodded, dropping my hand and taking another sip of his coffee. “Now, where do I begin? Shall I start with circles in the forests? Or the demonology?”

~~~

Chapter 4-> 

Tag List: @fangirls-gotta-fangirl @xladyxfatex

[timelock97]

Time Never Stops

Chapter Thirteen: Look at that Bump!

Word Count: 2574

Prologue   Ch 1   Ch 2   Ch 3   Ch 4   Ch 5 Ch 6   Ch 7   Ch 8   Ch 9   Ch 10   Ch 11   Ch 12   

Warnings: FLUFF

(Y/F/S): Your Favorite Store

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

"What can I do for you that would make today easier on you?" Tom asks while we finish up eating breakfast. Today, Dan and Phil were coming over to record a co-lab; however, I didn't tell them what we were doing today.

"There isn't anything you need to do, unless you want to set up my v-log camera in front of the fireplace so I can record my intro. Besides that, we are going to go over the game plan on what we are doing then we are headed to buybuy Baby."

I watch as Tom's eyes go wide, "Wait, was I supposed to come with you for that."

"I was hoping you would drive us," I mutter, taking a sip of my smoothie.

Tom looks sheepishly at me, "Harrison and the twins are supposed to be here in twenty minutes, they wanted to go out and practice our swings. I completely forgot you were going out today."

"Its okay, we could always Uber-".

"No, I can drive you three." He states, squeezing my hand on the table. "Hey, maybe the boys can come and join the challenge?" He suggests, as I squeeze his hand back before standing to put our empty plates in the sink.

"If you can convince the boys, I would be happy to have them join." I laugh, walking back over to him, settling into his lap, and wrapping my arms around his neck as his find their home around my waist, "As long as they take it seriously."

"I cannot say that they will, but we can hope," he chuckles, looking at me. "Why don't you go take a shower, I will let the boys know the plan."

I let out a soft hum before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. I stand carefully and grab my smoothie before walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Tessa following close on my heels.

After spending time taking a shower, I hop out and swipe at the mirror with my hand to temporarily remove the condensation to find my reflection looking back at me. I only glance at her in the mirror, deciding to leave the room as I squeeze my hair in my towel, walking out of the ensuite into the bedroom. I discard my towels into dirty clothes basket to be washed. I cock my head to the doorbell going off, hearing loud shouting to signal that the Holland brothers and Harrison had arrived. I roll my eyes as I brush my hair out and fluffing it around my face before walking back to the closet to figure out what to wear.

I groan as I try on a pair of ¾ length pants, they don't fit. I spend the next ten minutes back and forth trying to find clothes that do.

"Love, Dan and Phil are here." Tom calls, opening the door when her hears me groan in response. "You alright?"

I turn and look at him only dressed in just my underwear, a robe still placed over my shoulders. "I have a problem."

Tom chuckles, "What's your problem?" He is looking at me in amusement.

"None of my pants fit anymore. I didn't think I had gotten that big yet, have I?" I ask looking at him with a pout placed on my lips.

Tom shakes his head as he walks over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist before pressing a reassuring kiss to my forehead where the skin is creased. "No, love." He places a hand over my bump, rubbing his thumb across the skin, "The baby is just growing." He smiles at me before he moves to his side of the closet, pulling down a pair of gray joggers. "Why not try these, baby girl?"

I take them from him and carefully pull them on, sighing at the fact that they fit better than my own clothes. "Yay, they actually fit." I groan, letting Tom tie the strings before he places a kiss to my forehead again. "I need to ask your Mum if she will go with me to find maternity clothes because my pants don't fit anymore."

"How come you don't want me to come with you?" He asks, immediately stopping me from answering, "Nevermind, the last time I went shopping with you we spend four hours at (Y/F/S). Just steal my clothes until you do, I mean, you do that already so," he winks at me before leaning into me and kissing my lips, smiling into it.

"You are going to run out of comfy clothes," I tease, walking away from him to pull a plain black shirt out of one of my drawers and a sweater, pulling it over my head. I smile at him and tilt my head at him. "Do I look okay?"

"You look adorable." He smiles, putting out his hand for me to take. I smile back, taking it and allow him to lead me downstairs.

Once on the first floor, I smile at the guests in front of me. "My favorite people!" I tease, hugging Harrison since he was the first one I could reach.

"Wow, you say we are your favorite people but you don't hug me first." Dan pouts making me laugh.

"Says the guy who is hiding in my kitchen, most likely stealing cookies from my cookie jar." I tease, walking over to Sam and Harry who are laughing as they exchange hugs with me before I wrap my arms around Dan's torso.

"Well, Tom said you were upstairs getting ready so I was raiding your cabinets."

"Dan didn't eat breakfast before we left because we woke up late." Phil states, sitting at the table.

"Dan, oh my gosh." I giggle, letting go of Dan to hug Phil.

"Alright, enough teasing me because I didn't roll out of bed after my third alarm went off. What are we doing today?" Dan asks, walking over to Phil and I.

"Well, the camera is in the living room since we have a little more than what I had anticipated, so let's settle in there!" I turn and dance playfully into the other room, making the Holland boys laugh at me. Dan, Phil, and I settle on the couch and Tom stands behind the camera so he can start it.

"Ready, love?"

"Let me check the mics," I state, checking my laptop before I smile at him and giving him a thumbs up. "What's up guys, you're on with Timelock. As you can tell, I have the magnificent Dan and the amazing Phil here with me today!" I shoot my hands up in the air and Tom places his hand over his face to keep himself from laughing. "Today we are doing something a little different-"

"Okay, I am sorry to interrupt, but I need you to turn to the side for me." Dan says looking at me with a small eyebrow raise.

"Like toward you or toward Phil?" Dan shrugs and I turn to the side and look at him. "Okay, why am I turned?"

Dan motions toward Phil, "Tug her shirt toward you." My shirt comes tight around my stomach and Tom places his hand over his mouth, eyes crinkling in the corners. "Look at your bump! It is so noticeable. I mean, I could feel it when we hugged, but look at it."

"Is it really that noticeable?" I ask, looking at Tom who is nodding profusely, his eyes bright. "Well, uh, I guess I have more of a bump than what I was thinking, but then again I couldn't fit into any of my pants today."

"Wait whose are these then?" Phil asks as I turn back to the front.

"Uh, that should be obvious." I giggle, "Thanks, Tommy."

"Welcome, love."

"Okay, back to the task at hand. Today," the three of us start to laugh. "We are never going to get this intro done." I take a breath and take a chance and sip my tea. "Okay, okay, okay-"

"When do you drink tea? Who are you and what have you done with our (Y/N)?" Dan yells making me laugh.

"Will you hush, the tea keeps the morning sickness at bay, but I think we are at the end of that stage. It's been like a week?" I raise an eyebrow at Tom who nods. "We need to finish the intro so we can go and record the damn thing."

"Language!" Harrison calls from the kitchen.

"Shut up, Harrison!" I laugh, shaking my head, "Today!" Everyone bursts into laughter, "I just want to say what we are doing today so we can go to buybuy Baby!" I place my hands over my face, trying to cover up my giggles.

"Wait, why are we going to buybuy Baby?" Dan said with a raised eyebrow.

"If we could get back to the video, I would tell you." I tease, shaking my head. "We are going to buybuy Baby to do some shopping. You both have a 60 pound limit to find the best gift for little Holland, but there is a bit of a twist. Not only do we not know the gender, so it has to stay gender neutral, but Sam, Harry, and Harrison are going to be apart of the challenge-"

"Wait, do we buy it and give it to you, or do we show you before we check out and you guys buy the gift?" Dan asks, as the twins and Harrison come to stand behind us on the couch.

"Tom and I will buy it, but you guys get the credit for finding it." I laugh, smiling at the camera. "Well, let's grab the cameras and lets go!" I yell, pumping my hand into the air.

"Okay, camera is off." Tom states as he pulls it off the stand.

"So, what exactly are we doing?" Harry asks as he shifts the camera in his hand.

"The five of you are going to be going around the store to find a gift or multiple depending on what you want to do. That means you don't need to get anything for the baby blah blah blah because you already did blah blah blah." I state as the boys roll their eyes at my lazy explanation. "Everyone has a camera and they have to record for the hour we are there. I'll condense the video that I post. It's just supposed to be a fun competition."

"So we can't help each other out?" Sam asks, glancing at his twin.

"Nope, every man for himself." I laugh.

"Let's get going then!" Harrison yells, running out the door, all of us laughing and getting up to follow him. ~ "Harrison just walked around the corner, saw us, spun around, and sprinted in the opposite direction." Tom chuckles behind me as I search through the clothes aisle for some comfy pants.

"I saw Phil and Dan run past each other yelling that they were going to win, and then get yelled at by a security guard." I giggle, pulling out a pair of pants, "You think this'll be okay?"

"I can hold your bag while you try it on."

"I also love how we are just recording in here and no one is saying anything." I giggle, handing Tom my bag and run to the dressing room, finally happy that I had a pair of pants that actually fit. "Tom! They fit like leggings but look like jeans!"

"Aren't those jeggings?"

"No, they are thick leggings that look like jeans cause I am getting fat." I laugh, walking out with the pair of pants in hand.

"You're not fat, love. The baby is just growing. And I am pretty sure, those are still jeggings." He states with a smile, raising an eyebrow as I don't set them down on the return rack, "Gonna get those?""

"Yeah, so I don't steal all your joggers." I giggle, taking my bag from him, "And I know I'm not fat, it's just, you know how much it affected me when I was trying to lose weight. It feels like I'm backtracking even though it's not something I can change." I look at him and see the soft smile on his lips.

"You're beautiful, (Y/N), nothing is going to change that."

"You're a sap," I tease, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, "but I love it." I look at him for a minute before tugging my phone from out of the front pocket of my bag. "They have exactly ten minutes left in the challenge, so let's walk over to the rocking chairs and wait for them, yeah?"

"Yeah, let's go." Tom wraps an arm around his waist, smiling as he looks around the building at all the baby stuff. "Wow," he breaths.

"What?"

"I just, it's weird knowing that we are going to be parents. Like, don't get me wrong, I am beyond excited; even more now that the bump is making more of an appearance," Tom's hand comes to rest on my stomach, brushing his thumb against the fabric of the t-shirt. "It's weird, but I am so excited to meet them. Really excited to know who our little love is going to be-"

"Me too, Tom. I cannot wait to raise this little human with you." I whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips where soft chuckles are escaping, before sitting down in one of the rocking chairs to wait for the boys to come meet us. Tom and I rock back and forth for a few minutes until the twins come running over, baskets in hand, pushing each other playfully. "Hey, I will disqualify you if you get us kicked out."

"We won't get us kicked out." Sam laughs, standing in front of us.

"We actually talked to the manager and she laughed when we told her what we were doing." Harry chuckles, smiling at us. Eventually, Dan, Phil, and Harrison join us with their baskets in hand.

"Alright, let's look at what you guys grabbed and finish this video because I'm so damn tired." I state as Tom positions the camera so I can be seen.

"The baby can hear you, (Y/N)." Harrison teases, laughing when I try and grab his basket to tip him over.

"Hand me the basket, Osterfield, you're the first victim." ~ "Okay, how did he find the the cutest plush and softest blanket?"

"Because Haz knows that you will be using them well before the baby will." Tom laughs as he gets ready for bed in our ensuite. "I was surprised you didn't go for Dan's, the llama plush was so cute."

I laugh, balling the blanket in my lap between my hands, "Tom, did you even look in the bag from buy buy Baby?"

"No, why?" He walks out of the bathroom and over to the bag and placing it on the bed. He opens it and throws his head back, laughing. "You bought all the stuffed animals everyone picked, why?"

"They are all so soft! Little love is going to be so spoiled with all the stuffed animals-"

"And blue dinosaurs." Tom chuckles, lifting the plush out.

"Don't forget the narwhal that Phil found."

"We cannot have any stuffies on the baby shower registry." Tom states, tossing the narwhal at me, making me giggle.

"They really did a nice job though." I smile as Tom discards the bag on the floor, catching the narwhal with ease when I throw it at him and crawls in bed. He pulls me into his chest so we can sleep, his hand running up and down my bump.

"They really did." I yawn, stretching my neck to Tom pressing kisses up my neck to my jaw.

"Goodnight, love. Sleep well."

"I love you, Tom."

"I love you too, so much, bug."

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

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! Reblog and comment!

@revenantwriting | @bellagrayson-wayne | @jackiehollanderr | @snowxbarryxendgame​ | @let-me-luve-you​ | @mybitchborky​

Chapter Fourteen

[ourceliumnetwork]

I’m bored and found this having been done by a blog I admire, @vinceaddams. Plus, I - like my projection-favorite Dragon Age Inquisition Character, Dorian Pavus - love talking about myself.

1. Name : I have many and much. I’m currently playing with the name Eyrelain/e (undecided about the final e) but for the purposes of simplicity and what I’ll generally answer to, just call me M.

2. Zodiac : Aries sun, Taurus moon, and either Leo or Pisces rising but I’ve never been able to get that one clear on my birth charts lol. 

3. Height : 5′3" roughly.

4. What time is it ? 11:57pm as of just now - it will be much later by the time I finish this

5. Favourite musician / group ? I’ve always hated this question on these things. I barely know what I’m listening to at any given time, let alone have a favorite out of them all. I just like music.

6. Favorite sport team ? If pressed (and generally if I’m around my family) I state one of the Washington DC teams - and to be fair those are pretty much the only ones I’m familiar with. But honestly I have fallen out of touch with the sportsball games and will have to work extra hard to get back into the, ah, swing of things as it were. Mostly the only sport I give a shit about is Hockey and that’s mostly because I find the players extremely attractive. Something about Russians missing teeth just really does it for me, apparently.

7. Other blogs : @witchwraytohome is mostly aesthetic with some roughly witchcraft-y, spiritual-ish bullshit fleckled in there. @adara-et-al is where I’m trying to put shit about my original characters but I’m bad at keeping up with these things so it’s not well fleshed out yet. @lia-and-em-adventure-in-thedas is a joint blog with @sumomoblossom77 for the fic I’m working on - we’re mostly keeping references and stuff there for now, but maybe one day the fic will go up there too. Once i’m finished with it anyway.

8. Do I get asks ? lol no. Maybe one or two in a blue moon but generally those are from friends who send me DMs usually. I’m not against asks, of course, so please send those on if you have them!

9. How many blogs do I follow : 80, apparently - higher than I thought it was the last I checked but then again I have a terrible memory and do not check often.

10. Any tumblr crushes ? Nah, but not really any crushes right now either. 

11. Lucky number : 3, 5, and 6 tend to be numbers that come up frequently for me and portend nice things. Multiples also count, because lucky numbers are what you make them.

12. What am I wearing right now : a pair of quickly falling apart jeggings, and a really fuckin soft old navy sweater-shirt my mom got me for xmas. it’s so soft. It’s also a lovely dark taupe color

13. Dream vacation : 1) any vacation would be a dream vacation right now. 2) I’d love to travel to Japan. And if I’m in Japan why not go ahead and hit up S Korea, and Taiwan, and China and Hong Kong, and then let’s just go ahead and get all the pacific islands, the Philippines, and head down to New Zealand to head that off there. 3) Of course that’s not taking into account wanting to go further west from there, Tibet, India, Russia, idk maybe the whole middle east. Then do I go down into Africa and start making my way through there? Clearly with the trajectory I’m on I’d start in Egypt and make my way down south from there. Or do I go the opposite direction and take on Europe? Pretty much what I’m getting at here is I’d one day like to travel the entire globe - take like...at least a year probably more, and just explore the world. Eat in every country. Enjoy life. Idk...it’s a dream. 

14. Dream car : One that isn’t almost 20 years old would be nice. less than 100k miles on it would be *excellent*, but I know that’s asking for a lot. Gotta have A/C and working windows. A relatively new sound system would be great, so the radio isn’t jangly (though honestly a working radio is enough). If I can hook up my phone to play music - AND A CD PLAYER, IT HAS TO HAVE A CD PLAYER. And her hair whatever color it please god.

15. Favourite food: I’m gonna have to say steak and/or sushi. I will ALWAYS be down for either. Or Mexican food of any sort. Seriously, you want to win me over? Feed me in general. If you feed me Mexican food (god, especially authentic central or Gulf coast mexican food yaasss) I’ll be yours forever. 

16. Drink of choice : If we’re talking alcohol, always a margarita. I’m a tequila bitch for sure. Non-alcoholic, diet cola (whatever brand I’m really not picky). Though I have found these fun little powder things my parents use called ZipFizz and boy howdy are those tasty as FUCK.

17. Languages : English, very little Spanish, German and French. I’ve been learning a few fantasy languages for fic I’m writing (where Spanish, German and French will come into play, so I imagine I’ll learn those more too). Oh and Latin. I know a little of Latin. It’s not a lot and it’s not great but it could be worse.

18. Instruments : I used to play piano - I technically still can but it’s not very good at all. I tried playing bass guitar which was...alright. I did not go very far with it. I played the recorder for class in elementary school like most everyone else did, and that was...interesting.

19. Celebrity crushes : no one, really, right now. I’m kinda figuring myself out a little and haven’t really processed attraction past “they’re kinda fit, wonder if they’re an alright person to get to know” and then realize that there’s no way I’d ever get to know them as a person outside of their fame and celebrity so I just kinda drop it. ‘S not worth the time or effort honestly.

20. Random Fact : All my old injuries that bother me are completely invisible from the surface - my one that crops up the most is my knee(s) but from the outside nothing looks the matter with them (unless the start swelling but that doesn’t happen as much anymore). Second most easily aggravated is my shoulder that also has no outward sign of having been an injury. Third most easily aggravated and honestly rarely rears its head unless I do something immensely stupid or it’s bitter fucking cold outside, is my right ribs. I got knocked really hard and they were cracked but not broken but I was also, like 10 when it happened and I’m fairly certain they healed slightly incorrectly. Sometimes it feels like I’ve got light bruising and sometimes it’s like they’ve just been injured (depending on the cause of the aggravation). I do not have good scars to show people to be like “yeah this acts up because I was stabbed in the jellies but it’s fine except during low-pressure weather”. I just all the sudden cannot stand up right, or reach over my head properly and I have to deal with it.