#my bestie is here in about half an hour i haven’t seen her in person in 2 years

[abigail]

just burst into tears when tidying up because i was just overthinking about everything in my life rn and felt so overwhelmed ♡ lol

[pepprs]

hi update things are fucking terrible and my eyes hurt from sobbing. lol

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 13

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit​ for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.7k

Recommended song: "Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America” by Gym Class Heroes

"I have to go."

"Can't you stay five more minutes?"

"I wish."

"Come on, just a few more minutes to cuddle." Pierre flings back the fluffy duvet and holds out a hand. "Please?"

"I have an exam," you say with a sigh but bend to press a kiss to his upturned palm. "I can't skip."

Pierre groans and slings an arm over his eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't have a sim but I have an old PlayStation you're more than welcome to use. I think I still have one or two games."

"That won't keep me busy."

"I'm sure you'll find something. Just stay out of trouble okay? I'd like to get my security deposit back when I finally move out of this hellhole."

"Okay," Pierre grumbles, sitting up to give you a quick kiss. "What time are you getting back?"

"Four. We can go out to dinner or something." You smooth a hand over his hair, smiling lightly. "Or we can go for a picnic and take a walk through Saint James Park."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns his head to kiss your palm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

You roll your eyes but your smile contradicts the sass. "I'll be home before you know it. Love you, champion."

"I love you too, mon coeur."

He was endlessly grateful for how easily the two of you had fallen back into each other. When he had shown up at your doorstep he had expected there to be awkward pauses and minutes of tense silence, but there had been blissfully little of either. As the days bleed into each other, your relationship only gets steadier, closer and closer to what it used to be. Maybe it was because you had been the one to break the silence or maybe it was because he had thrown himself into his career into someone's bed- whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful to be welcomed back into your life. He didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

Pierre allows himself a half hour of lounging in bed before forcing himself to get up and shower. Off weeks were hard; all he wanted to do was rest and recharge but he still had to follow his workout regimen and sleep schedule or he risked falling out of the habit, making it that much harder to get back in the groove come race week.

First order of business: clean the clutter you had shoved in closets and the spare room prior to his arrival the day before. Folding the three baskets of clean laundry took an hour, washing dishes another thirty minutes, and vacuuming the entire flat took twenty. Once the counters are spotless and there isn’t a stray sock to be found, he takes stock of your pantry and notes what staples you were running low on.

Two hours later he trudges back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, arms laden with reusable bags packed to the gills with food. His legs burn and he's slightly winded from the excursion; at least that could count as his work out for the day.

He's just about to start slicing vegetables for dinner when his phone chimes with a text from his PR agent, Sylvie.

You're supposed to be in an interview now. Where are you?

"Oh shit." He scrambles for his laptop which of course was dead. He manages to plug it in at the dining room table and angle it so the background is mostly neutral, just a band poster framed behind him. He checks his hair before logging into the interview.

"There's the star," the interviewer says, far too chipper to be entirely genuine.

"Sorry, I was having connection issues." He queues up his signature sweetheart smile that gets him out of any squabbles. It works, the woman's irritation melting into a more easy expression.

"Let's just get right into it. Since we're low on time I'll jump right in, if you don't mind."

Pierre leans back. He had an inkling where this was headed. "By all means, please."

"We just saw news of your deal with Christian Horner- if you take seventh in this year's drivers championship, it looks like you're at Red Bull Racing next year. How does that feel after being publicly demoted mid-season in 2019?"

A smirk tugs at Pierre's lips. He had known this exact question was coming. He had debated how to answer it without starting waves and still remaining truthful. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to be diplomatic when others may have let their egos get in the way.

"Obviously I'm grateful that Red Bull has recognized the hard work I've been putting in at Alpha Tauri," he starts. "I think I've been able to push the car as far as I can but I still have pace in me, personally. So moving into the Red Bull would let me loose, so to speak, and give me a chance to prove that Red Bull is where I belong."

"Right, you have had quite a spectacular season so far with a race win under your belt and a few podiums for good measure. What do you attribute that success to? Why is it so different now in an Alpha Tauri versus that coveted second Red Bull seat?"

Pierre purses his lips. The answer he was expected to give wasn't one he was willing to voice. Instead he opts for neutral. "I've been able to focus and hone my driving this season. I've found a groove that works for me and with it has come an insane amount of confidence, which is something I struggled with for awhile after going back to Torro Rosso. I think it's really just that I'm finally comfortable in the car and with my team and that makes a huge difference."

"Thank you for that," the journalist says and Pierre nods. "Shifting gears, I have a few questions about your personal life if you don't mind."

This was the part he always dreads. Questions were often prying and he had to subtly skirt around them in a way that offered a satisfying answer without giving away too much. It was an art he liked to think he had perfected over the years but still didn't enjoy.

"As long as you don't mind me staying silent if I don't want to answer."

The woman laughs, the sound sharp and grating. "Of course. Unless I can bribe you into giving me an exclusive."

"Likely not. But you ask the right questions and we'll see."

"You've been seen hanging around a certain London neighborhood lately- that wouldn't have anything to do with you and your lovely lady, would it?"

He had been waiting for that one, too. When the two of you had returned from Red Bull headquarters he had noticed the man taking pictures across the street. He hadn't said anything to you at the time because really, there was no point in getting you worked up when he had a plan to handle it.

The question played right into his hand, in fact. 

Pierre sits forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Actually yes. We recently got back together and if you'll let me, I would like to make a request."

The woman leans back and checks her notes. "Well it's not quite what I had planned but please," she gives a flourish with a hand, "you have the floor."

"I know driver's personal lives are something that a lot of people are interested in and that's great. I don't mind sharing things with my fans or letting them get the inside scoop, but there's some things I would rather be left alone. My relationship is one of them. I know you all took note that she hasn't been around the past couple months and if I'm being honest, it's because of comments and press coverage that invaded her privacy. I think some people forgot she was more than just a name on a screen."

Pen poised to take notes, the interviewer prompts, "You said you had a request?"

He doesn’t stop to assess the damage he had already undoubtedly done. Sylvie was probably already on the phone doing damage control with every news outlet she could get her hands on, if her muted and black square at the bottom of the screen was an indication. 

"All I'm asking is that you leave her alone. If you have questions or comments you have to make, just direct them at me. Don't follow her around asking about me. Don't comment on her posts unless you're capable of being a decent human. Just… let her live her life in peace."

Maybe he was a love sick fool, but honestly he didn't care if he lost some support from fans. If they had such strong opinions on his personal life, he would be better off without them anyway. And his team could cut him and even if he was unable to secure a seat in Formula 1 after next season, he would survive. 

But if he lost you again, he would be broken. It had taken being apart from you for him to realize it and he'd be damned if he was ever disconnected from you like that again.

"That's quite the speech."

Pierre shrugs. "It was. She's the most important thing in my life, right up there with racing.” Now that he had started down the road of truth, he found it impossible to hold his tongue. “I lost her once because people couldn't be bothered to remember that their words have consequences. I won't let it happen again."

"So you see yourself with her for a long time then?" The woman's eyes glitter with the potential of getting an even juicer tidbit from him.

Pierre’s jaw sets, muscles feathering. "That's not something I'm prepared to discuss."

The woman purses her lips and tips her head to the side. There was clearly more she wanted to say. "Well, I have to thank you for what you've given me here. My boss is gonna love the exclusive. I won't push any further. Thanks for your comments, Pierre."

"Thanks for actually being respectful."

“We aren’t all monsters.” The woman shrugs. “I can’t say I haven’t had my moments but I try to be straightforward.”

“Right, yeah. I get that you have a job to do.”

“Anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do the rest of this season. Good luck.”

He signs off and instantly anxiety washes over him. If she twisted his words he was screwed. Sylvie would be on the phone as soon as the article was printed, no doubt trying to soothe sponsors and investors. She'd give him an earful about being respectful and not poking the bear but he'd tune it out like he always did.

The sooner he got away from Red Bull, the better.

Instead of dwelling on it he busies himself with cooking. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He always requested a full kitchen when he was staying anywhere more than a few days so that if he had the chance to make a home-cooked meal, he had the option. For tonight he had selected his favorite recipe. Parmesan-Cesar chicken wasn't normally something you would ever touch with a ten foot pole but as long as he was making it, Pierre knew you'd at least give it a try.

Music blasting in the background, Pierre sings along quietly as he unpacks the rest of the ingredients and gets to work. He does a little spin between the island and the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them right in the dishwasher as he uses them. A clean kitchen is the mark of a great chef, his mom had told him, drilling the phrase into him when he was young.

In the middle of cutting potatoes Pierre gets a call. He only has an hour until you're home so he doesn't bother stopping, just puts it on speaker and continues measuring spices.

"Hey Daniel."

"Heard you're in London," Daniel says, Australian accent thick. "And a little birdie told me you and your lady got back together."

"We did," Pierre says, a smile splitting his face. "Finally."

"Thank god, now I don't have to listen to your drunk woe-is-me rambling anymore."

Pierre laughs and sets aside the measuring spoons. "It's not that bad."

"Oh please." Pierre could practically hear the eyes rolling. "The number of times I had to send an uber to a bar after a grand prix is insane. Charles and I should be entitled to financial compensation with the amount of babysitting we've been doing."

"I can handle myself!"

"Not after a martini you can't."

He was right there. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Oh right- I'm actually in town today too, got some stuff to shoot for McLaren before we head to Austria for the race next week. You guys wanna come out with us tonight? We're heading to a bar or two."

"I actually had something planned-"

"She already said she's coming!" Dan's girlfriend shouts in the background.

“Well then why even ask me?”

“To be polite,” Daniel offers with a laugh. “We’re meeting at the rooftop bar at the Trafalgar hotel at seven. That give you enough time to do whatever you had planned that’s apparently more important than seeing your best mates?”

“We’ll be there,” Pierre says and hangs up. He finishes seasoning the potatoes and pops them in the oven, finally getting a chance to sit while they cook alongside the main course.

He's on his feet a few minutes later, decluttering the last bits of mess around your flat. It was clear it hadn't had a decent cleaning in quite awhile- hopefully you'd keep it tidy now that the effort had been made. The guys would tease him endlessly if they found out he was acting like a housewife.

You arrive home just as he’s setting the table. “God, it smells amazing in here.”

“Salut, mon amour.” Hands full with hot dishes, he settles for a kiss to your cheek. “I made dinner.”

“And you cleaned,” you observe. “You were a busy boy.”

“Pyry would kill me if he found out I was laying around all day. I had to do something.” 

You hang your backpack on the hook behind the door and take a seat at the table. “Well remind me to thank him again when I see him. This looks delicious.”

Pierre grins over his shoulder at you. “Me or the food?”

You throw your head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “The food, you goof.”

Pierre quirks a brow. "Is that the honest answer?"

"Okay, maybe both." 

The meal is filled with your ramblings about your exam and your new hobby- this month it was hiking. You went into detail about all the few trails in the city you’d been on as well as the more challenging ones that dotted the countryside. Pierre just nods along as you talk, already planning on staying up late to learn what he could about the topic so he could be a better conversation partner.

The pair of you work together to tidy the kitchen and put away any leftovers. “Did you bring something semi nice to wear tonight or do we have to make a quick trip to the store?”

“I’ve got some Tauri stuff I can wear. And not just team gear,” he adds when you groan. “You know that cream sweater you love? The one with the logo debossed on the front? I’ve got that.”

“Oh,” you say before biting your lip. Your eyes trail down his frame and back up like you’re imagining it on him. A tingle travels up his spine under your assessing gaze. If you kept that up, neither of you would make it out of the apartment tonight. “My favorite. Yeah, wear that. It’ll be on my floor by the end of the night.”

Pierre places his hands on your waist and grins. “Will it? And what will be on the floor from your closet, hm?”

“Your favorite dress.”

“The orange one?” He realizes half a second too late that you would never know how much he adored that dress from the gala. It had hugged your curves in all the right places and left your back exposed, which would leave him free to trace patterns on your soft skin whenever he pleased. He had missed out on worshipping you in it that night and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to do so now.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t wear that to a bar.”

“Says who?” Pierre nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing you in. A light undercurrent of sweat from your walk home from classes mingles with the usual bright scent of you, only serving to rile him up further. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a simple scent could do him in, and yet here he was, completely wrapped up in yours. 

“Says me.” You sigh, tipping your head to the side when Pierre’s nose grazes your skin.

His lips follow until he reaches your jaw before he pulls back. “What one are you wearing then?”

“Does it matter?” You cross your arms, the smirk playing on your kissable lips tempting him.

“I have to mentally prepare myself.” And if whatever you chose was too sexy, he would need to get his handsiness out of his system before the pair of you met up with Daniel and his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to be on the front of some seedy gossip column when his plan was to ease back into it. 

You smile up at him, broad and unrestrained as if knowing your answer would affect him greatly. “The cobalt blue one that makes you stutter.”

The dress in question was just as form fitting as the orange one, but shorter and decidedly more distracting. It fell mid thigh and the spaghetti straps left your shoulders exposed, which coupled with the low back displayed a downright sinful amount of skin. You had worn it at a Torro Rosso event a couple years back and he had scarcely been able to get a full sentence out around you all night. 

“That one’s a close second.” He follows you to your room, leaving you to hunt through the closet while he digs through his suitcase, thankful that he had the foresight to check out of his hotel on the way back from Red Bull and bring his things here.

Because there was no way in hell he was missing a second of being by your side while he was in town. Every moment had to count when he had no idea when he would be able to sleep next to you again, not when the season was nearly over and there were two double headers between now and winter break. When so many variables stood between him and you, he had no problem prioritizing you over a routine workout or a full night’s rest.

Pierre changes into the sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans well before you emerge from the bathroom. He doesn’t bother responding to Dan’s text that includes an address and reminds him to be on time, instead opting to scroll through his instagram feed. He likes a handful of posts from his fellow drivers, including one of Max actually smiling at something off camera.

“Well?”

Pierre’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice. The phone falls from his hand when he drags his eyes over your body, head to toe and back again. 

Oh, he was so fucked. 

Maybe it was selfish, but with your hair done like that, the barest brush of makeup lining your eyes and in that stunningly blue dress, he didn’t want any other man to have the privilege of laying their eyes on you. 

No, you were all his.

The moment you’re within reach, Pierre places his hands on the back of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your barely covered ass. You chuckle and tap your fingers under his chin. “Close your mouth; you’ll catch flies.”

“Just so you know, if you wear that dress I can’t be held liable for my actions.” Up to and including scaring off anyone that wasn’t Daniel or his girlfriend. No one else deserved to be blessed with your radiance. Hell, he didn’t deserve it, and yet here you stood. 

“We’ll see about that.”

**********

Daniel and his girlfriend had already made their way through a round of drinks by the time you arrive. It wasn’t Pierre’s fault he couldn’t keep his hands off you and wound up getting distracted on the drive over.

"Late as always," she greets, kissing your cheek. "Dan got us here fifteen minutes early because he wanted the table with the best view."

"Like our names wouldn't have gotten us the table if we asked," Pierre says, wrapping Daniel in a one-armed hug before kissing his girl’s cheek in a traditional French greeting. "The view is pretty great though."

You were already leaning on the glass partition, hands curled over the edge and undoubtedly leaving behind fingerprints on the pristine surface, completely unfazed by the fact that the other patrons were staring. You had eyes only for the London skyline and Trafalgar square lit up below. The bar with its white marble tabletops and strict dress code was absolutely not a place that you should be standing on your tiptoes for a better view, but there was no way he could condemn you when your face lit up like that.

Pierre just places a hand on the small of your back and shoots a look at the bartender currently glaring in your direction, daring the smartly dressed man to say anything. He only raises a brow and resumes filling drink orders.

"You guys know how to pick a place," you say, "I could stand here all night."

"Right," Daniel's girlfriend says, rolling her eyes at Pierre who shrugs as if to say what do you want me to do? He was powerless to deny you anything that brought you a semblance of joy; your smile was everything to him. “Love, why don’t you come tell us about uni? You’re the only one of us currently enrolled, and I’m sure the boys would love to hear about all the drama.”

You and Pierre share a secret grin. You shake your head but allow him to guide you back to the cocktail table. “Drama? I’m an engineering major. The closest thing we have to drama is someone grossly miscalculating a structural load.”

Dan shoots Pierre a mischievous grin. “I heard Stroll might be moving next year-”

Both you and Daniel’s girlfriend groan at the same time. “No racing talk when we’re around tonight,” she says. “I’ve heard enough lately.”

“What’s new in the publishing world?” You ask, leaning into Pierre when he wraps an arm around you. He only half listens to her explain the so-called “top secret” project she’s currently working on, instead opting to get drunk on you. 

The light breeze filtering through the surrounding buildings ruffles your hair. You lift a hand absentmindedly to tuck it behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of your face. Everything you do is amazing to him, snagging his attention even when he should be listening to whatever it was his friends were saying. Your gravity was simply too strong to bother resisting.

“Enough talk,” Daniel’s girlfriend says, waving a hand. “You need a drink, and I want to dance. Let’s go.” Before Pierre can protest, she’s dragging you away to the glass top bar. You throw an apologetic glance over your shoulder and Pierre just winks. He was fine watching you from afar for now.

Pierre’s gaze drops to your perky ass when you lean in to let the bartender know what you want, likely shouting to be heard over the music, your dress riding up a bit with the movement. For having such a strict dress code, this place sure did feel like an upper class club.

You hook your thumb over a shoulder, the bartender’s gaze darting to Pierre before the man nods. The only explanation you offer is a wink, followed by a note on a cocktail napkin and a beer delivered a few minutes later by a server.

This is supposed to be the best beer they have. Just try it.

Leave it to you to constantly push him outside his comfort zone. Pierre tentatively sniffs the foamy glass and shrugs before taking a sip. Not bad, but he still preferred his usual whiskey. 

Setting the glass down, Pierre turns back to Daniel. “Congrats on extending your contract with McLaren by the way. Should give you a decent shot at keeping up with the big boys and landing some serious points.”

“Seems like most of us are moving around, doesn’t it? Sainz to Ferrari, Seb to Aston Martin... The only one with any sort of long term commitment is Max and now me I guess.”

“And Charles,” Pierre adds. “He’s stuck in that red monstrosity for the foreseeable future.”

Daniel laughs, taking a swig from his glass. “And you’re moving too, huh? Austria should be interesting,” Daniel remarks, watching the girls at the bar nursing their own drinks. “What with the news of your new contract breaking and all.”

“Potential contract,” Pierre corrects. “Not for sure yet.”

Daniel scoffs. “Come on mate. You won’t have any problem getting up to seventh by the end of the season. Perez is slipping and the news that his seat is in jeopardy will only help your cause.”

Pierre takes a sip of his amber beer and nods. “I’m sure Perez doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s always been a good sport.” You catch Pierre’s eye and lift your fresh flute of champagne in a mock salute. Dan’s girlfriend drags you out on the dancefloor and immediately spins you. Your laugh is nearly audible, the memory of it fresh in Pierre’s mind as he watches you.

“Mate, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel shakes his head and drains his drink. “I really don’t know how it took you two this long to come together. You’ve been dancing around each other for years but neither of you would admit it.”

“I could say the same about you two.”

Daniel shrugs. “Fair point. At least we got it all worked out in a weekend though.”

Pierre rolls his eyes and shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever. Not all of us can have a perfect love story.” 

The grin Daniel shoots Pierre is pure sunshine. “How long are you planning on waiting before you ask her to marry you?”

“What?” Pierre sputters, nearly choking on air. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“Oh come on,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s coming eventually.”

Pierre would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But he wasn’t sure if it was the time for a proposal, not when you had just gotten back together. The last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of losing you again because he was too forward.

“One day at a time,” Pierre says finally, dragging himself back to earth. “I just got her back a few days ago. I don't want to scare her off by proposing just yet.”

“Right. Well you might want to get a ring on that hand sooner rather than later,” Daniel notes, gesturing to the two men who had approached the girls. “How long are we gonna let that go on before we step in?” Neither of you paid the men any attention, instead enjoying each other’s company, but the men’s eyes roaming over your body sets Pierre on edge.

“They can handle themselves,” Pierre remarks, shifting on his feet. The weak attempt at self assurance didn’t do much to negate the red tinting his vision. “They’re fine.”

“Her sharp tongue will hold them at bay,” Daniel says, winking at his girlfriend. “For a while at least.” Props to Daniel for possessing inhuman amounts of restraint, but Pierre’s muscles were coiled and ready to interject at the first sign of trouble. 

He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't own you. You could make your own decisions about who you spoke with and who you entertained as long as he was the one to take you home. He didn't care if you wanted to flirt; he knew it meant nothing and if you got a free drink out if it then so be it. But those were the rules: flirting, no touching. He'd step in if need be if someone took it too far.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Pierre watches tight lipped as you politely chat with the man, your body language closed off and dismissive. Pierre hates that you even speak a word to him. He knows it shouldn’t bother him because he trusts you, but the stranger is a wild card. Pierre watches like a hawk as the man inches ever closer, slowly interesting himself into your personal space. He waits for you to take a step back, to grant him that silent permission to come over and insert himself in the conversation and get his hands on you, this proving you weren't on the market.

One of the men shouts something at you over the music and you leer back at him, clearly disgusted at whatever he had said. Whirling on him, you open your mouth, likely to snap out a profanity lined retort, when his hand latches onto your arm.

"Oh, fuck no."

Half a second later, Pierre is stalking across the dance floor, no thoughts other than teaching the asshole a lesson. His hands are already curled into fists, ready to swing if the man hadn't moved by the time he arrived. Tolerating someone hitting on you was one thing, but blatantly ignoring the clear dismissals and laying a hand on you? No way in hell was he standing by and letting that happen.

The resounding crack of your open hand hitting the man’s face has pride swelling in Pierre’s chest. That’s my girl. You’d solved the problem before he’d even arrived. You jab a finger in the man’s face, Daniel’s girlfriend right there with you to back you up.

“Fuck off,” you were saying as Pierre approached, “or do you need to go back to kindergarten and learn to keep your hands to yourself? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before laying a hand on a taken woman- or any woman, for that matter.”

Driving your point home, Pierre slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in until your back is flush to his chest. You crane your neck up, the tense muscles beneath his fingertips and the fury contorting your features confirming just how rattled you are.

The lines creasing your brow are soothed away when you realize who holds you. You open your mouth to say something but Pierre places a hand on your throat, thumb and forefinger framing your jaw as he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes locked on the guy still standing off to the side holding his cheek. 

You taste like the champagne you’d been sipping all night. It’s the only thought in his head outside of the jealousy licking through his veins like wildfire as he claims you then and there in front of the crowd. Mine, his heart sings. He flexes his fingers, taking advantage of your surprised gasp to slide his tongue against yours. Mine, mine, mine.

Pierre lets you be the one to break away, lips curling in a smug, kiss-swollen smile as you address the men. “In case you still don’t get the picture, I’m not interested. And neither is she.” You jerk your chin, indicating your friend and Daniel, who had indeed followed Pierre and since mirrored his possessive stance, one arm wrapped tightly around his own girlfriend.

The two men reluctantly slink away after mumbling something unintelligible but undoubtedly indecent. It had been a week and a half since he had been on track and he had plenty of pent up aggression to get out. He didn’t normally opt for using someone’s face as a punching back as a stress reliever, but rulers were made to be broken. Your hand splayed on Pierre’s chest is all that stops him from following and asking them to repeat themselves.

“Just let me hit him,” Pierre says, voice far more level and put together than he had expected it to be. “Just one punch. That’s all I would need.” His knuckles smart like he had already connected them to the man’s face. 

“And let you throw away your contract? I don’t think so. The last thing you need is a blurry photo of you knocking someone’s teeth in hitting the front page of every gossip mag in the country. I’m fine, so you can cut the bravado.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” 

“I was wondering how long you were gonna leave us out here,” you say, trying to regain Pierre’s attention. When it doesn’t work, you grasp his stubbled chin and force him to look at you. “I didn’t expect to be stranded for so long.”

The eye contact is what finally calms his racing thoughts. Seeing the trust reflected in your face is enough to have his grip on your waist loosening to allow you to face him. “Someone convinced me you could fend for yourself. And while it seems that’s true, I couldn’t stand it anymore.” 

Your satisfied hum is swallowed by the pounding bass but Pierre feels it rumble in his chest. “Sometimes even a queen needs saving.”

Though his point had long since been proven, Pierre’s hand slides down your back to rest on your ass nonetheless. “I knew you going out looking like this would cause trouble.”

You tip your head to the side, feigning innocence as you press your hips to his. You grin, noticing the hard on that had been bothering him all night. “Looking like what?”

“Drop dead fucking gorgeous,” he says, accentuating his point by sliding his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your dress. “You know I’m tearing this off you the second we get home, right?”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

The sound that escapes him is primal and possessive. The presence of bystanders does nothing to prevent him from palming your ass and kneading the flesh. He presses his lips to your neck and mumbles between kisses, “To torture me.”

You push lightly at his chest, laughing although your eyes dart around the space in search of cameras. Old habits were hard to break. “That may have been part of my motivation. But you’ll have to wait. I haven’t seen Dan in forever and I would actually like to have a conversation with him before we sneak off somewhere.”

At least you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until you got home to get between your legs. “Fine,” he grumbles, hands settling on your hips. “Only because I love you.”

You beam up at him. “Love you too.”

Arm still slung around your waist, Pierre nods at Daniel and follows the other couple back to the table.

After two more drinks, you and Daniel's girlfriend are singing along to the music in lilting, off key voices, simply enjoying the night air. A stray breeze catches your hair just as you turn to look at Pierre and his heart damn near leaps out of his chest.

To his credit, Pierre’s cheeks are rosy from more than just the charged glances you throw at him as the night wears on. He was on his fourth beer, far more than he usually drank these days, and the buzzing in his head was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. When he has to squint to tell the time on his watch, he figured that was enough.

"I should probably get going mate," Pierre says, turning to Daniel. "Early flight."

Daniel laughs and beacons for the girls. He kisses his girlfriend's cheek when she returns with you in tow. "Are we leaving already?" You pout, and Pierre had half a mind to stay simply have your smile make an encore appearance.

"Car coming," he murmurs, dipping his head to give you a proper kiss. God, you were stunning in that dress- he might not be able to string together words coherently, but he knew that much. 

"Fine." You cross your arms for a split second to convey your feelings on the matter before wrapping your friends in a hug and saying your goodbyes.

Pierre's hand is already on your ass before you're in the uber. Get a few drinks in the boy and he let his guard down. You laugh and pull out of his embrace to usher him into the sleek black suv. If he had been coherent, he probably would have chatted with the driver about the specs of the engine or maybe even racing if he was a fan. Instead the ride is filled with stolen touches and sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

"I can't wait till we're home," he mumbles. "You're gorgeous. How did I snag you? You're so far out of my league. No way should you be with me."

"I have a thing for guys that go fast in circles on the weekends." 

"Really?" Pierre frowns. "Should I be worried?"

"No. You're the only one I have eyes for." His head is fuzzier than when you left the bar but your laugh breaks through, his stomach flipping at the melody of it. "And we are home."

Pierre blinks, realizing he does indeed stand in your kitchen, with no recollection of climbing the three flights of stairs between the street and your flat. "Oh. When did that happen?"

"After I half dragged you up the stairs." You bend over to undo the straps of your heels, giving him the perfect view. He lets out a whistle that ends in a hiccup.

"Take me to bed, lover," he says in what he thinks is a husky voice. It should be impossible for you to resist.

You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his middle. "That's the plan. I'll take you to bed, strip you out of that sweater, and you'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow."

"Nnnnnno," he protests, hand sliding down your exposed back to settle at the base of your spine. "I wanna make the most of tonight. I leave tomorrow."

"You don't leave until noon," you point out. "Plenty of time to nurse your hangover and have fun before then, after you drink some water and get some sleep."

"But baby-"

"No buts. Do as I say or I'll send you off tomorrow without a goodbye kiss."

Even in his half drunken state he knew it was a swiss cheese lie, spotted with holes and completely stale. You'd never let him leave without a kiss goodbye because neither of you knew if it would be the last time. He was a race car driver after all, and that came with risks. 

But he sighs anyways and slips off the cream sweater, letting it fall to the floor. At least one of you kept their promises. 

After confirming he was settled into bed, you retreat to the bathroom. His heart aches at the absence, even though you're mere feet away with nothing but a thin door separating the two of you. He registers the sound of the tap turning on and your soft, off key humming of the last song he remembered hearing before getting out of the uber.

"Mon amour," he croons when you re-emerge in a set of silk pajamas. He reaches out his hands for you and you slide under the covers, immediately slotting your body against his. A leg hitches over his hip, tugging him closer until your middles touch.

"Mmm," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Je t'aime. Tu es l'amour de ma vie et nous vivons d'amour et d'eau fraîche."

"I have no idea what you're saying," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "But I like it. Feel free to keep going."

"Tes baisers sont du feu et je fond à ton toucher." He presses his lips to your neck before resuming his mumbled French. "Je pense toujours à toi. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. Tu as mon cœur et je ne voudrais pas qu'il en soit autrement."

"I like the sound of that." You press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. God, that tenderness was why he loved you. That, and your personality, and your eyes, and your… everything. "Dormir, my love. I'll be here to listen to your pretty words in the morning."

The single word of his mother tongue on your lips has him smiling. "Oui, tu le feras. Parce que tu es à moi et je suis à toi."

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max​ @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz

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[midgardianweasley]

GEORGE WEASLEY X PLUS SIZE READER MY SOUL NEEDS IT IT NEEDS IT NOWW

ofc ofc bestie, i hope it’s okay <33

All of your bodies are absolutely beautiful guys <33 

All of you

George Weasley x Plus Size fem!Reader

Summary: It’s summertime and Y/N is spending her weeks at the Burrow with the Weasley family, invited by Molly and her boyfriend of 5 months, George. The family all decide to go to the local lake to cool off from the sun, Y/N isn’t confident with her body/stretch marks and says she just wants to stay home to avoid anyone else seeing them. George notices and convinces her that her body is beautiful the way it is.

Warnings: Body insecurities, stretch marks, anxious thoughts

Word Count: 1769

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist lovelies <3

Over the past week at the Burrow, the sun had been blazing, heat becoming a common frustration in the home. They had all tried everything they could to try and cool down, extra ice in their drinks, standing in front of fans, they’d even played quidditch so that they could feel a slight breeze, the air proving to be unhelpful by being at a complete standstill, the humidity was unbearable. Everyone was gathered in the living room, scattered around the room to avoid any possible extra body heat. Even Y/N and George who were always sitting together at any given opportunity had sat themselves a good couple of feet away from the other, the thought of being cuddled up with George had made Y/N grow incredibly warm. Upon hearing Fred groan about how boiling he was for what felt like the millionth time in the last half an hour, Ginny had had enough.

“Fred, for the love of Merlin, will you shut up?”

“I can’t help it! It’s like a bloody fire in here” He argued, tilting his head back against the sofa, quickly regretting it when feeling the fabric against his neck.

“We’re all feeling it Fred! we’re all hot, we’re all bored, we’re all agitated, you repeating the same thing over and over, isn’t helping.” You could hear the frustration in her voice, quickly replaced by the sound of Arthur Weasley standing up and walking around frantically

“Right, we’re not sitting around here for any longer, everyone, pack some swimming gear, we’re going to the Lake!” He announced, everyone cheering, everyone except Y/N. The thought of showing more skin than normal, sent a bolt of anxiety through her. She hadn’t felt comfortable in her own skin for a long time, imagining herself in a swimsuit had made her internally cringe. She was so used to wearing jeans and at a push, a short sleeved t-shirt, knowing what lay beneath. Y/N had never been a fan of her stretch marks. Her parents had always told her that they were signs of her growing, that it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. She had always viewed them differently. Over the years, she had seen plenty of girls show their stomachs, their legs, and she hadn’t seen them. Or if she had, they weren’t like hers, their ones were white or clear or smaller. She thought something was wrong with her body. Why were hers not white? Why were hers a mixture of red and purple? She was soon brought out of her thoughts by George standing in front of her, placing his hands on her hips gently before speaking.

“You alright Love? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost” He chuckled

Y/N and George had only been dating for about five months, being close friends for a previous two years. He wasn’t aware of Y/N’s insecurities about her body, she always appeared so confident, she hadn’t let it show so to not bring any attention to it. Y/N stepped away slightly when feeling his hands lie on her hips, feeling him touching where she knew the marks where. Trying her best to ignore the frown on his face at the sudden loss of contact, she spoke up quietly.

“Y’know George, I think i’m gonna sit this one out, I’m not feeling so good.” She lied, briefly meeting his eyes but not maintaining the contact for long. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at her comment.

“Oh. That's okay, I’ll just go and tell mum we’re stay-” He went to leave, but Y/N caught his wrist, gently tugging him back.

“No no, you go have fun Georgie, I’ll just see you when you get back”

“Are you sure you want to stay? Will you be alright on your own?” He questioned, not entirely convinced by her suggestion, she seemed okay when they were all sat down? She never gave up an opportunity to spend time with his family?

“Of course my love, you go and cool down. Tell everyone i’m sorry though, I was excited to go” She lied through the grit of her teeth, pulling a tight lipped smile. ‘There it was’ George thought. Over the years, Y/N had a tell for when she was lying. Her smile was always different when she was telling the truth. This one didn’t quite meet her eyes, why was she lying? He didn’t mention it, he didn’t want to cause a scene or embarrass her, so with a simple nod of his head, he kissed her cheek and waved her up the stairs, going over to Fred when he’d heard the door click shut.

“Hey mate, where’s Y/N gone?” Fred asked, looking around to see if he’d just missed her in the flurry of people gathering their things together.

“She’s just gone upstairs, you lot crack on, we’ll follow after you guys.”

“You sure? I can get mum to go up if she needs some, y’know, woman to woman discussion.” Fred spoke awkwardly, unsure of how to help.

“Nah mate, we’re good, i’ll head up. Honestly, you guys go ahead” George waved him off, watching him meet with the rest of his family, Harry and Hermione included as they were staying with Ron for a bit during the holidays. When he saw them all walking off on their way to the lake, he ran up the stairs, taking two stairs up at a time, coming face to face with his door, he raised his fist and knocked gently.

“Come in?” Y/N spoke with a hint of confusion, she was so sure she’d heard the downstairs door shut. George opened the door, popping his head round first before stepping in, briefly seeing Y/N pull down her top, hoping that he hadn’t seen her stomach before approaching her. Deciding to keep his hands to himself this time, he began to speak. “What’s the real reason you don’t want to go?” He spoke, with only concern and love in his voice.

“I told you, i’m not feeling well.”

“I know what you told me love, but I also know when you’re lying, I want to know what’s troubling you so I can help.”

“It’s nothing you can help with.” Y/N spoke, but quickly jumping backwards when she’d caught eye of George beginning to reach out again. He picked up on her reaction again.

“Have I done something princess?”

“No, you haven’t done anything Georgie.” She sighed, feeling defeated knowing that he could read her like a book but had come to the conclusion that it was something against him.

“You can talk to me you know, if it is something I’ve done, I-”

“It’s not aimed at you, I just, I don’t like it.” She spoke, causing George to tilt his head slightly, not entirely sure what she meant. Seeing this, she spoke again.

“I..I don’t like people touching my stomach, or my hips, or my legs.”

“Is there a reason why? If you don’t mind me asking, you don’t need to answer, but i’m here to help if you do”

Y/N thought about it for a few minutes, George standing silently, giving her time to think it over. Instead of speaking, she lifted her top slightly, not a lot, but enough for George to see what in his eyes looked to be like red and purple lightning bolts. He looked fascinated by them. Shying under his stare, but not pulling her top down yet, Y/N mumbled

“They’re called stretch marks, if that’s what you’re wondering.” George looked up at her

“And you don’t like them?”

“No.”

“How come?” He spoke, being patient with her responses. She sighed again, taking a minute before answering

“They look weird, almost angry. They’re not faded and white like other girls. They just make me feel like my body is..wrong. I don’t know how else to explain it” She spoke, feeling vulnerable under his eyes, knowing he was looking at them, something she had always avoided. George’s gaze fluttered between her stretch marks and her eyes, feeling fully captivated by her. “May i?” He spoke, indicating that he’d wanted to touch them, she hesitated, but eventually nodded her head, trusting him to not judge her. He softly stroked them with his thumb, feeling slightly proud that she was letting him be this close to her, not just physically, but emotionally. He knew she felt vulnerable, she was trusting him with her insecurity. Because of this, he chose his next words carefully.

“I think they’re beautiful”

“George-” She went to reply, but he quickly cut her off

“No no, just listen to me for a minute, okay?” She stopped speaking, taking this as a sign to speak, he continued. “I think they’re beautiful. They’re a sign that you’ve grown. That your body is changing, a sign of something good. They don’t have to look like everyone else’s, your body, and every mark on it, is unique to you, just like your personality. All of it makes you the Y/N we all know and love. I know not everyone has seen them, but I can guarantee nothing would change if they were to see it. These are nothing to be ashamed of.” He spoke, still stroking the marks. Meeting her eyes again, he saw tears falling and heard quiet sniffles.

“Hey hey, what’s with the tears, Princess? did I say something wrong?” She smiled and chuckled softly

“Not a thing Georgie, I’ve just never heard of anyone speak of me so fondly before. Do you mean all of that?”

“Of course I do my love. Every word. I understand if you don’t want to go to the Lake, but, I think it would be a nice idea. You don’t need to wear anything you’re uncomfortable with, just having your company would be enough for us.” Wiping her tears while speaking. She shook her head.

“I think i’ll go, but I’ll just go with what i’m wearing, if that’s okay. I don’t want to wear a swimsuit.”

“That’s absolutely fine, princess. Whatever you like.” George smiled, about to turn to lead both of them out, before he was tugged back again. She leaned up to kiss him, just a peck, but it spoke a thousand words.

“Thank you for staying and helping me Georgie, it means the world to me.”

“Anything for you.” He spoke, kissing her again before the both of them walked out hand in hand, ready to go to the lake and meet the rest of the family, hopefully without Fred’s grumbles.

Taglist: @horrorxweasley @dracofknmalfoy @gaycatlord-stuff

[jmoriarty-221b]

So I saw somewhere a post that talked about how some fictional characters just have a divorce vibe going on, like, at no point in time were they ever married but they just give off that feeling that they got divorced

And now I can only think of Clark Kent and Lex Luthor having that vibe

And I spent close to an hour talking about this to my sibling and how it would be a good idea for a new DC show like, you can make so much money off of just the main Batfam alone and there are literally so many people in there that it’s just an amazing idea to have them all in a show together but kind of like a Good Luck Charlie kinda thing because there’s more than enough angst in the world

But in the case of not having enough of a budget for so many characters in one show I turned to the Superfam (Batfam is Huge like, I don’t even know half of the extended family version and that’s like at least ten characters so I could see why it wouldn’t be entirely feasible to have a show that included everyone while still being good with nice character development without having a billion dollars for the budget)

The Superfam, in my personal experience, is composed of Ma & Pa Kent (farm vibes plus I refuse to have either of them die in my AU), Clark Kent (main Superman), Lois Lane (Lana? was Smallville Lois i guess??? But idk enough about her so she’s not here), Jon Kent (Superboi II), Kara Danvers (Supergirl) & Conner Kent (Superboi I)

Now I’ve stopped watching CW shows like, forever ago??? But my brother kinda keeps up with them and basically the gist is that the ratings of every other show suck Except for the Superman & Lois show (because it’s 💫new💫) and I saw the cover of the poster like “Ah, the werewolf dude. . . mmmhhmmm that’s Lois yes, yes that’s Johnny boi, and um is that???? Nooooo, they wouldn’t do that to Conner right???? Please tell me they didn’t make Conner blonde” and I was informed that the blonde teen is Chris???? Like

Whoms’t do ye speak of

I’m not even joking but the only way I even know of Chris is from a random fanfic I read where Dick Grayson gets his own super from an alternate reality named Chris, that’s my only point of reference for this character

But let’s talk about how Conner Kent (OG Superboi) was excluded

Now I haven’t seen any episodes of this and I probably never will (no hate I’m just really unmotivated to start new shows at all) so idk if they might mention Conner or even allude to him in one scene or something

But this was my main motivator as to my new Superfam TV Show Idea

Have Lex Luthor not be a Superman villain, he’s mainly a successful businessman, a little shady but who isn’t, and he doesn’t want to Kill Superman, he just wants to be able to have some sort of viable protection against a Kryptonian in case of an invasion (see Man of Steel + CW’s Supergirl) or suddenly having a mind controlled Superman on their hands (see Justice League series or just look up what Red Krytonite does) so he makes it like his side thing to figure out ways to neutralize or hold back a Kryptonian, Clark totally thinks that Lex is obsessed with finding a way to kill Superman because they had a bad end to their friendship in high school so he’s always suspicious of Lex, Lex hasn’t really ever tried to kill him though because 1. It’s not that deep Clark ok? And 2. He’s a busy busy man with a very important job position and a company to run so does he look like he has time to harbor an obsession over someone who rejected him back in high school??? You’re more of a constant side quest Clark, so stop trying to put him on the JL watchlist ( btw ik about Lena Luthor, haven’t forgotten her but she doesn’t really play a part in this AU so let’s just have her and Kara off to the side doing their own thing ok? Ok)

Lex, Bruce & Oliver all knew each other when they were kids and went to the same school, this is just an extra detail I wanted to happen because Lex and Ollie definitely know Bruce is Batman and absolutely HATE having to deal with Brucie Wayne because “I know you’re just doing this to irritate me Bruce, you just want to see if you can make a vein throb in my forehead but I will valiantly ignore your dumbassery because I know you hate being Brucie just as much as we hate having to put up with Brucie so suck on that you petty bitch” because they bonded in ye olden days, childhood friends so to speak

Anyway so Cadmus tries to get Lex to make an investment in their company, seeing as Cadmus is shadier than Gotham when it rains Lex is basically like ‘no ❤️’ and doesn’t make a deal with them, Cadmus gets mad at not having Lexcorp financially backing them so Lex has an ‘accident’ and they steal his DNA, then they steal Superman’s DNA somehow and *boom* a Superboi is formed

Because I don’t know much about how the Core Four became friends in the first place (Robin Tim Drake, Impulse Bart Allen, Wonder Girl Cassie Sandsmark & Superboy Conner Kent) I’m just gonna go with what happens in the show Young Justice except it’s the Core Four becoming the Core Four when they liberated Conner (who at this point believes himself to be a clone of Superman and has only been given Superboy as a name) from Cadmus, same shit goes down meaning that Clark is just straight up NOT vibing with Conner, Conner just wants a mentor please, and the Bats kinda give Clark a passive aggressive treatment for not taking Superboy under his wing or at least agreeing to teach him how to control his powers, especially Tim because that’s his Bestie so yes

Anyway, YJ saves ppl and is on the news or whatever and Lex finds out about Superboy’s existence that way, so he researches this new super on his free time, finds out that he came from Cadmus and claims to be a clone of Superman, yet doesn’t have the whole power set Superman has??? Wait, didn’t Lex reject Cadmus’ proposal and the got into a mysterious accident??? Long story short Lex goes connecting the dots, hacks into Cadmus’ files, finds out he technically has a son with Superman and decides to take Superboy under his wing (I’ll go more in depth as to why Lex would want to do this in this AU later but the abridged version would be that he wants a kid but doesn’t have the time nor interest in finding a wife??? Also the radiation that made him bald as a kid also affected his reproductive system so while it’s not impossible for him to conceive kids he would have a very hard time actually getting to father a kid)

Him and Conner, who still goes by Superboy at this point in time, meet up and Conner finds out that here is a parent figure that is both available and actively wants to be a part of his life, so he agrees to get to know Lex and the series would focus on them becoming a family, with a special episode when Conner asks Lex for help in choosing a name for himself and it ends up with him agreeing to become Conner Luthor, it would be heartwarming and Mercy would make sure it happens within a day (Mercy is Lex’s bodyguard/PA but they’re also besties and she becomes the Responsible yet Chaotic Aunt as Lex and Conner’s father-son relationship progresses)

Obviously Clark becomes super suspicious of Lex getting close to his ‘clone’ and when Conner decides to go public as Lex’s son he’s like *GASP* and calls up Bruce because we need to get on this Bruce, Lex is a villain and blah blah blah but Bruce would be over Clark’s shit and hit him with that “actually, Lex was also an unwilling genetic donor to Superboy, who actually is not your clone either, and has agreed to take him in, I’ve been on this shit since they first met and the kid is doing just fine so if you keep poking your nose in their business then that’s your problem but you better be ready to pay child support bitch . . . have a good day ❤️”

The series would just focus on Conner getting to have a good parent figure in Lex and go more into their civilian lives rather than focusing on the superhero thing, Conner, Bart, Tim & Cassie have a sleepover at Lex’s house at one point, Lex totally Knows what’s up but it’s all good because these are his baby’s friends and they’re good people who are more than willing to prank Superman for rejecting his kid and giving his baby self worth issues (Mercy supports them)

Anyway, that’s basically the idea for a new Superhero Show

[writtenonreceipts]

rowaelin the only single person in the friend group?

AN:Enjoy!

The Singles Club Isn’t Always Lonely

As Rowan entered the local bar, he shook rain from his coat and hair.  For the past two days it had seemed like constant cloud coverage lingered and that meant rain.  Not that Rowan particularly minded the rain.  It just grew tiresome.  He had yet to find a reason to fully rejoice in it.

He waved to Brullo, the bartender, and headed back to the usual table where he and his friends usually took over.  Indeed, Vaughan and Connall were seated drinks in hand and in deep conversation about something.  Gavriel and Fenrys were shooting darts—Gav wiping Fenrys’ ass with the score.  Though Fenrys was always more in it for the social aspect than the competitive nature.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” Connall called when he looked up to see Rowan crossing the bar towards them. 

Shooting his friend a vulgar gesture, Rowan took a seat in one of the stool and drew a freshly opened beer towards him.

“I should ask you all the same question,” Rowan grunted.  He took a swig of beer and sighed.  “Between wives and girlfriends, I thought you’d all bail on meeting up.”

“Hell, no!” Fenrys shot a wild dart and came to sling an arm over Rowan’s shoulder. “Tradition.  As Asterin so lovingly reminds me, I need to spend more time with you losers.  I think it’s just so she can go to the shooting range with Manon and Elide, but you know.”

“Nehemia says that I’m hovering,” Connall said.  “As if I can hover.  She’s seven months pregnant, I should be allowed to be concerned.”

“You’ve texted six times in the last half hour, man,” Vaughan said.  He pointed meaningfully to his friend's phone.

Connall scowled. “Concerned.”

“Hovering,” Rowan said.  He took another drin.

“You have to let her live her life still, Con,” Gavriel said.  He plucked the round of darts from the board and turned back to his friends. “When Endara was pregnant with Aedion she and Evalin would go on week long spa getaways.”

Connall looked absolutely horrified. “But—”

“No,” Gavriel insisted.  “Space and foot rubs.”

“That contradicts itself,” Connall muttered.

“Just saying,” Gavriel said.

Sometimes, Rowan found it hard to believe that Gavriel had a son their same age.  Sometimes, Rowan found it hard to believe that Gavriel was as old as he was.  Of course, he would never say it to the man’s face.  Because getting his ass kicked was not on his list of things to do.

“This is why Rolfe and I communicate,” Vaughan said.  He grabbed Connall’s phone before he could check it for a nonexistent text.

“You and boyfriend have a very strange definition of communication,” Fenrys said. “You also need to lock your front door.”

“You need to knock,” Vaughan said unapologetically.

Rowan rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. “Where’s Salvaterre?  Why am I on the chopping block.”

“Because he texted,” Vaughan said emphatically, “that he would be late.”

“Elide had an important meeting at work and he wanted to take her out for ice cream after,” Fenrys grumbled. “They’re almost as disgusting as Conn and Mia.”

“See,” Rowan finally spoke up, “this is why I am remaining single.”

The group groaned, throwing peanut husks at him while telling him to grow up.  Rowan simply laughed.  It was a conversation they’d all tried to have with him.  Get a girlfriend Rowan.  Go out on more dates Rowan.  You work too much Rowan.

He knew they were just giving him a hard time.  For the most part.  But he also couldn’t help but let the words dig into his skin.

They’d miraculously been through a lot together.  Despite the age differences between them all, something had drawn them together with a love of history, hand-to-hand combat, and drunken nights of poker.

“Hey, assholes!” Lorcan entered the bar and exchanged a few words with Brullo before coming to the table.

“‘Bout time, man,” Connall called.  He kicked a stool out for the other man.

“I was supporting my girlfriend,” Lorcan said, “shouldn’t you be with your wife?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking Elide to marry you?” Connall shot back.

Lorcan launched into a coughing fit just as he took a drink of beer. “What?”

“It’s been two months and all we’ve heard from you is how great this girl is.  Coming from you that’s practically a wedding announcement,” Rowan added, grinning fiendishly when Lorcan’s face heated

“Yeah, you know, speaking of relationships, I haven’t seen you taking anyone out lately,” Lorcan groused.

Before Rowan could either shoot Lorcan the finger or snark back to him, Brullo arrived with another round of beer.

The rest of the night passed in easy conversation punctuated Fenrys’ claims that at the next poker night he would win every hand.  Granted he was on his third beer as he said this.

It was just like any other night.  And yet by the time midnight rolled around, he listened as his friends claimed necessity to return to domesticity.

Nehemia had cravings.  Elide, Manon, and Asterin were drunk and needed a ride.  Rolfe threatened to watch Bridgerton alone.  And Endara claimed Gavriel had left her kitchen a mess.  

Life as it should be was chaos.  And while Rowan knew he wouldn’t have it any other way, as he paid off the tab with Brullo—consequence of a lost bet—he found himself facing a night of pouring rain and a semi-drunk Connall to haul around.

#

When Aelin Galathynius swore a life of solitude, it was for a good reason.  She’d recently adopted a dog after all and Fleetfoot needed her undivided attention.  

Now, five years later, she regretted nothing.  Especially when Fleetfoot was such an excellent snuggling companion.

While her apartment was small, and admittedly shabby, it was home.  Had been since she’d moved out of last foster home five years ago.  Almost every single one of her friends had lived with her in that time.  From Manon deeming it for your own good so you don’t end up murdered in this hellish part of town, to Elide claiming that I have no idea how to live by myself, you have to help me.

The apartment had known many people.  Had known fights and tears.  Had known emotional breakdowns and dance parties.  

And yet, as Aelin came home from work on a glorious Friday evening, it felt empty.  Even with Fleetfoot eagerly dancing around her feet.  Even as she hooked on the leash and took a brisk walk around the block with Fleetfoot bounding along joyfully.  Even when she returned home and turned her music on while she made dinner.

Empty.

Only the pouring rain outside gave any indication of the outside world.

Aelin turned her music up louder.

Perhaps it would have been so bad if Elide were here with her.  Or Nehemia.  Any of her friends.  But it was date night and she knew just how much her friends had been missing their boys.  

Elide worked so much and she’d recently started dating Lorcan Salvaterre they barely saw each other.  Nehemia was having a baby with the love of her life.  And then even though she and Asterin weren’t the closest, Aelin did miss her drinking buddy.  And Yrene was so busy with her internship that all she had time for was her new marriage.

Aelin couldn’t have been happier for her friends, truly.  They were all living their best lives.  And so was Aelin.

She’d graduated with her degree in history, specializing in warfare and weaponry.  Now she was teaching part-time at a community college and part of a research team that was working an archeology dig out in Wendlyn.  Everything she’d wanted.  Everything she’d worked so hard to get.

Life was good.  Or so she kept telling herself.

“You really need to start locking your door!”

Aelin turned from the mess of spaghetti she was trying to make to find Elide, Asterin, and Manon entering her apartment.  She held a spatula out threateningly.

“You can't just barge into people’s apartments,” Aelin said.

“We can if the door’s unlocked,” Manon replied.  She wasted no time in kicking off her shoes and tossing her jacket onto Aelin’s couch. “Please tell me you have wine.”

“What’d Dorian do now?” Aelin asked as Manon easily went to the kitchen and found the bottle of wine.  Not the cheap stuff.

“Nothing,” Manon grumbled.

Asterin barked out a laugh.  “He brought up meeting his parents.”

“And moving in together,” Elide added.

Manon brandished the corkscrew threateningly. “Don’t make me use this.”

Chuckling, Aelin turned the burners of her stove off. “It’s Dorian.  You can tell him no to both things and he’ll get it.”

Manon grunted and began chugging her very full glass of wine.

“Lorcan mentioned moving in together,” Elide said. Wine spurted from Manon’s nose and Elide rolled his eyes. “Eventually.  He didn’t actually ask just one of those brief passing comments.”

“You know, I still don’t like him,” Aelin said.  She dished up a few bowls of pasta and started handing them out.

“Please the two of you are practically besties,” Elide said.  She gave Aelin a wink before settling in a chair at the small dining room table.

“Speaking of besties,” Asterin added, “Fenrys just sent me a text.  They are getting wasted at the bar.”

“Is Gav with them?” Elide asked through a mouthful of pasta.

“Yeah, thank the Goddess,” Asterin said.  “I don’t want to pick his drunk ass up.”

Manon made an approving sound and poured herself another glass of wine. “Because we are getting ourselves drunk.”

Aelin debated taking the wine away from Manon already, but shrugged.  She needed a distraction from everything else.  Before sitting down, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey she kept in case of emergencies and few glasses.  It was girl’s night, why not?

“You do know you’re going to have to talk to Dorian, eventually right?” Aelin asked, pouring out whiskey.

“Shush,” Manon said. “Talking is overrated.  We’ll just have sex and get over it.”

Aelin made a face. “I’d rather not think of you and one of my best friends in that way.”

“It’s sex!” Manon shouted. “C’mon, Aelin.  I know it can’t have been that long since you slept with someone.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes.  She most certainly should have taken the wine away.  Wine drunk Manon was a whole different animal than whiskey drunk Manon.

“Ohh,” Elide said, already pushing back her half-eaten bowl of pasta for the whiskey. “I might know of someone.  Actually, Lorcan knows him.”

“No!” Aelin shouted at the same time Asterin screeched, “yes!”

“He’s very attractive,” Elide said with a knowing nod.

“And works out, a ton,” Asterin added. “He and Fen are training for a marathon.”

Aelin didn’t know whether to be impressed or horrified.  She worked out and believed in a healthy lifestyle.  But she also believed in chocolate.  And cake.

Even as her friends slid side-glances her direction, Aelin ignored them.  They’d been hounding her to date more.  Ever since Sam had broken up with her when she wouldn’t move across the country with him and the mess with Chaol...Aelin hadn’t been in a serious relationship.  And she was fine.  Did she miss casual dates? Yes.  Someone she could talk to about everything and anything?  Yes.  Did she miss sex?  Absolutely.

On the last item she could rectify that easily.  Just swing by the nearest club, but Aelin had always craved connection more than casualties.  

She knocked back her shot of whiskey and nabbed the bottle from Manon who was well on her way to drunk.

Elide laughed at Aelin’s diversion from talking and got up to turn Aelin’s stereo up.

“You’ve gotta find a way to support Fleetfoot,” the petite brunette said, “being a single mom is hard.”

“Screw you!” Aelin growled.

“Pretty sure Lorcan’s already taking care of that,” Asterin said.

“No!” Manon and Aelin shouted together.

Cackling madly, Elide downed her whiskey and began dancing.  It didn’t take long before all four girls were drunk and dancing madly to the music.  And Aelin was able to forget everything else about the day and little comments her friends had made.

It wasn’t until after midnight that Lorcan and Fenrys showed up to take the other girl’s home.  Fenry, a bit tipsy himself.

“Baby!” Elide squealed when she threw open the door.

Had Aelin been a touch more wasted she would have missed the soft smile that flitted across Lorcan’s face as his girlfriend flung herself at him.  Aelin might not have understood where the hell that relationship had come from but she was slowly starting to accept it.

“Be safe,” Aelin demanded as she ushered her drunk friends out the door, Lorcan assuring her he had only drank one beer over an hour ago.

“Get a Tinder!” Asterin hollered as Aelin closed the door.

And just like that, she was left to an empty apartment.

#

When Rowan got into the business of researching ancient warfare and artifacts of war, he’d known it would give him hell in the future.  Not that he would regret it of course, but for the past five years he’d dealt with questioning papers, developing thesis, tossing out said thesis, and trying to appear that he knew what he was doing.

It was a miracle if he could accomplish that last item.

By the time he made it home from work, he was exhausted.  The text from Elide--how she’d gotten his number Rowan had no idea--declaring a night out didn’t help any.  But it had been a few weeks since he and his friend--all his friends had gotten together.

So he dragged his sorry hide into a shower and down to Brullo’s bar.

And just like always he was the last to arrive.

“Whitethorn!” Vaughan called out.

Rowan raised his hand in recognition before getting a drink from Brullo.

Already, his friends had their drinks and their girls--and in Vaughan’s case, boy.  Nothing about the night seemed far from normal.  Even if Rowan wasn’t as familiar with Asterin or Rolfe, being around this group of people always put him at ease.

“You look like hell, Rowan,” Nehemia said with a sympathetic smile.  She wore a simple gray dress that showed off her growing bump, her black hair twisted in thick braids.

Rowan offered a returning smile. “It was a hellish day.”

Connall thrust a beer into his hands. “Here’s to make it better.  Although my lovely wife has already graced you with her presence, so consider yourself lucky.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan shoved his friend away. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Too much,” Loran supplied.  As usual he was seated in the corner of their table, nursing a beer.

“Where’s Elide?” Rowan asked. “Seeing as she’s the one who made me come.”

Lorcan gestured out to the dance floor.  The dance floor.  Since when did Brullo let anyone start dancing?  Not in the past five years that Rowan and his friends had come.  Unless one of them or another patron got too drunk.

But there was some song with a deep, thrumming beat reverberated through the bar.  Someone must have bribed Brullo to put it on.  Likely the fiends who were dancing like they had no care in the world.

Fenrys and Asterin were practically glued together and were less dancing and more making out.  Nearby Gavriel and Endara were mostly laughing while tripping over their feet to keep with the beat of the song.  What caught Rowan’s attention however was Elide.

Or rather her dance partner.

The woman was tall, lean, and had the frame of a fighter.  She moved so easily to the music that Rowan was focused on her more than the song.  Her blond hair hung well past her shoulders in golden waves matching her gold dress perfectly.  But perhaps what was so striking was the carefree smile she wore.  The way she laughed and leaned into Elide as the song changed to a sultrier chord.  But neither woman seemed to notice, or care.

Until the blonde looked up and the low lights emitting from the dance floor set a low fire to her eyes and dug into him, holding him in place.  And his breath caught.

Elide broke the spell that had settled over him.

“Rowan!” She yelled and waved frantically for him to join the dancing.

“No,” Rowan called back firmly.  The last time he had decided to go dancing with Elide he had ended up shirtless, hungover, and in a car halfway to Mexico.  

Elide pouted at him before crooking her finger to her boyfriend.  Lorcan was already up and out of his seat making his way toward her.  It was still strange to Rowan to see the brute of a man soften for anyone.

Shaking his head, Rowan returned to the bar to get another drink.

“Can I get something as well, Brullo?” The airy confidence of the woman, snagged Rowan’s attention and he turned to see the Elide’s former dance partner standing beside him.

From this angle, Rowan was better able to see that spark of gold and blue in her eyes, a splash of freckles on her nose.  She was beautiful.

“You must be Rowan,” she said with a single brow raised.

He nodded and accepted a beer from Brullo. “I am, but I don’t seem to know you.”

Her mouth pulled up on one side. “Aelin.  Elide and I grew up together.  Figured since I never see her anymore, I had to come see what this place is all about.”

“Elide dragged you out here, didn’t she?” Rowan asked.

“She is terrifying when she wants to be,” Aelin agreed.  She offered him a full grin in that instant and Rowan knew that if possible, he would try and make her smile like that again. “And she offered to pay my tab.”

“Meaning Lorcan will be paying your tab,” Rowan said.

“He does have his uses, other than being a brute.” Aelin laughed at that and took the drink Brullo offered her.  She turned her gaze on him, those eyes so full of light. “I suppose I should get used to him though.  Elide seems to like him.”

She wasn’t wrong Rowan realized.  “Anyone that can get Lorcan to actually get out and dance is a miracle worker.”

“Except, she didn’t get you out there dancing,” Aelin said.  She let out a soft laugh leaning closer to him.

And there it was, something different.  And perhaps Rowan wouldn’t identify it for a long time.  Wouldn’t really know what it was.  But there was something about Aelin that drew him in.  He’d known her for all of ten minutes, didn’t even know her last name, and here he was completely ensnared.

“I don’t dance,” Rowan said.

Aelin cackled. “Not yet anyway.”

She knocked back the rest of her drink and grabbed Rowan’s arm pulling him to the dancefloor.

Perhaps if they’d been paying closer attention, they would have noticed the high-five Asterin and Elide exchanged.  Or the passing of bills between Vaughan, Connall, and Gavriel.  There was a great deal they didn’t notice.

Not how the rain stopped pouring outside.  Not how the emptiness of the night was overcome by more than music and alcohol.  It was a silent shift.  A careful one.  One that would become more than alright with them.

#

as always thanks for reading!

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[smallraindrops-blog]

A Road To Somewhere.

For prompt: road trip

Hypnos/male!reader

Thanatos/Zagreus/Meg in the background.

5.7k total, link to part two at the end.

Warnings: some sexual stuff are talked about but the most that happens is kissing and cuddling. Jokes about cannibalism as well. Alcohol uses. No beta.

Summary: Why talk about your feelings with your childhood best friend when you can just go on a road trip?

A/N: sorry for going silent, I was dealing with some medical issues on top of helping my partner with stuff.

To the Anon who requested this, I'm sorry about the wait, I hope you like this and feel free to always hit me for another request!

At three in the morning, your phone rang. 

You groaned as you rolled across your bed. and you squinted at the brightness of your phone. 

Hypnos' photo flashed on the screen, the one where he stole your letterman jacket to nap in on the school bus that Zagreus had sent it to you. And if you kept the photo five years after high school, well that is your business and nobody else's.

You hesitated, not sure you want to talk to him right now. After that night, the only thing you and Hypnos traded was polite, almost cold texts. not your usual meme or lazy chatting about whatever. But something about the picture of Hypnos' sleeping face pushed you to respond. 

You swiped the green button.

"You are coming with me." Hypnos said, or rather slurred.

You covered your face,"Hypnos, dude. Are you drunk right now?"

"You- you said you have never seen the ocean right?" Hypnos asked, ignoring your question.

"Where are you? I am coming to get you." You turned on your lamp, looking for a pair of jeans to wear.

"No- no." Hypnos said firmly and very drunkenly. "Y/N, dude. I'm fine. I'm at my shitty apartment." Hypnos paused, "You know, the one where my brother hooked up with Meg. And Zagreus. At the same time. Which is really effing weird for me."

"I - Hypnos-" you tried to think of what to say. The said incident happened over a little month ago and Hypnos had the misfortune of walking in at the wrong time. Which of course because Hypnos got his heart broken by Meg lead up to Hypnos trying to hook up with you to get over her.

"Look, you always said you wanted to see the ocean right?" Hypnos yawned, which you took as a good sign. Hopefully it means your dumb best friend will pass out soon and not ruin his liver for rest of the day.

"Yeah, what of it?" You asked, frustrated at Hypnos for doing this to himself and to you.

"Road trip!" Hypnos dragged out the words with a laugh. "I will be picking you up tomorrow. Love you bestie."

"Hypnos wait no, we can't just leave." You said. You waited for a response, "Hypnos?" You asked worriedly.

A snore came through the phone and you sighed. You turned off the lamp and laid back down, listening to Hypnos' deep breathing.

You stared at the ceiling, and tried not to think about the last time Hypnos got this drunk. Or about that night or how Hypnos acted like nothing happened the next day.

You rolled over to face your phone and closed your eyes.

You will just stay on the line in case Hypnos wakes up.

��

"You can't be serious, Hypnos." You said as he went through your clothes, uncaring of any boundaries you may have.

But honestly with Hypnos, you had long lost any boundaries. You knew you should actually try to enforce some but you craved just being near him.

"I am! I need to get away for a bit and you told me you were taking a week off right? And it starts today or last night technically." Hypnos held up a lime green shirt and made a face at it.

"Yes for a staycation, I don't have extra money for a motel or anything like that." You replied, and took the shirt away to place it back on its hanger.

"It's my treat, Y/N." Hypnos leaned on you, his head on your shoulder. You tried not to notice how warm he was against you or his big golden puppy dog eyes. "Come on, a free trip away with your best friend aka me aka the best thing ever with your favorite person ever-" Hypnos rambled.

"Fine, only because you said you will pay for everything." You sighed, You hated how hard it was to say no to him.

Hypnos cheered and pulled you into a bear hug. You savored the warmth despite not wanting to.

You just needed a vacation too. To clear your head. And who knows, you and Hypnos could finally get back to being normal.

💤

Hypnos was in the driver's seat as you closed the truck and joined him in the car. A pen dangled from his teeth as his golden eyes flicked across the map. He glanced at you as you strapped in.

"It will be a two days drive if we only stop when we need to. That gives us three days at the beach or wherever else we end up doing." Hypnos took the pen out and marked a couple spots on the map.

"Couldn't we just use our phone GPS?" You asked.

"Nope, the place I'm taking you isn't a normal public beach and we have to drive through some mountains and mountains always win over gps." Hypnos pointed the pen at you. "Always." He said in a mock doom voice.

You rolled your eyes, and with a finger pushed the pen out your face. "Alright but if we get lost in the mountains. I call first dibs on eating you."

"Ha, jokes on you, bestie. I got almost no tender fat on me. So enjoy gnawing on my worthless bones." Hypnos crackled as he started the car. He tossed the map in your lab and peeled out of the driveway.

His deft fingers quickly found some music as Tom Petty sang through the radio.

Hypnos sang along badly. You covered up your smile, it feel good just near him again even if you didn't want to admit it.

Within minutes, Hypnos had weaved into the midmorning traffic. But even with the traffic, you already feel a little lighter.

💤

The first day of the drive went surprisingly well, even with traffic for the first hour. The skies were a vivid blue with fat, lazy clouds that casted shadows across the land.

Hypnos had the windows rolled down, one arm out of the window and music blasting. His shades should have made him look like a frat boy but you actually liked how they looked with his messy white curls and dark red shirt.

You kept your mouth shut and just watched the landscape change from suburbia to the fields dotted with cows and horses.

It was the most peace you had felt in a long while even with the elephant in between you and Hypnos.

It wasn't until twilight had followed you to the motel that the problems started.

"Is that a permanently closed sign?" Hypnos asked flatly, his shades resting on his head.

You nodded, "I had a feeling the trip started a little too well."

You and Hypnos both stared at the sign, the red and white words mocked you.

"I knew google was lying to me." Hypnos murmured.

"We can just sleep in the car, Hypnos." You followed him as he turned back. "We probably shouldn't drive anymore tonight."

Hypnos shook his head, "Nope, we would get murder so fast." He snapped his fingers to make his point. He threw an arm around your shoulders and guided you back to the car. "Come on, I bet there's another place just up ahead."

"And if there is not?" You asked, noticing how easily you fit next to him.

"There will be." Hypnos said confidently.

At your doubtful look, he said cheerfully,

"Or we could just get murder in a much nicer area."

💤

It was almost an hour before you saw the faint vacancy light just peeking behind the trees.

You gasped, "There! Do you see it?"

"Yeah, I see it." Hypnos replied, perking up. The rundown motel looked like someone's idea of what an old western inn looked like without actually never seeing one before.

But after driving for an extra hour and half, it looked like heaven.

Hypnos pulled up in the first empty spot he found which was plenty of.

"Stay here, keep an eye on the car. Don't get murdered." Hypnos said as he locked the car up. He only looked back once as he entered the building.

You slumped in your seat, exhaustion overtaken you. Your phone buzzed in your hand, Zagreus's name popped up.

'Is Hypnos with you??'

You stared down at the text, why is Zagreus asking you?

'Yeah, why?' you replied.

Immediately, Zagreus responded.

'He hasn't responded to any of our texts or calls.'

In a separate text, 'Is he okay? I knew my talk with him was rough but I didn't expect this. '

You bit your lip, just realizing that you haven't heard Hypnos' phone go off all day. Normally, Hypnos' phone was glued in his hand and he was always constantly texting or playing a game.

You looked up, making sure Hypnos was still in the building.

You replied, 'I think he just needs a break. I will let you know if anything happens but maybe just give him some breathing room. Also what talk?'

Three dots appeared and disappeared a few times before Zagreus' response came.

'No, I know. We just wanted to make sure he wasn't alone. Thanks.'

You rubbed your face, unsure what to make of the texts and that Hypnos, a known phone addict, hasn't been on his phone all day. And that Zagreus didn't bother to tell you what 'talk' he had with Hypnos.

You looked back up and saw Hypnos walking back a grin on his face. When your eyes met his, he waved the roomcard and a plastic bag triumphantly.

You pushed your worries aside for now, Hypnos will talk to you when he is ready.

💤

"Uhh, dude. There is only one bed." You said blankly when Hypnos turned the lights on. All the room had was a single hotel bed and a little table with two chairs. The whole area looked like it never left the seventies.

"And a sofa." Hypnos pointed out as he flopped down on it. The sofa creaked loudly as if threatening to snap in half. "I can sleep on anything, remember?"

"If you are sure." You grabbed the plastic bag from the floor as you sat down on the bed.

You dumped the goods on the bed. There was a healthy mix of spicy ramen bowls, candy bars and cans of soda.

You picked out the one you knew Hypnos liked and set on making dinner.

The sofa kept creeking each time Hypnos twitched or even breath. Hypnos' eyes were close but there was a tension to his body that kept him looking truly relaxed.

You debated on telling him that Zagreus had reached out to you but the tight frown on his face kept you from saying anything.

The microwave gave a high pitch beep and you quickly pulled out the ramen and placed the hot bowl on the table. "Hey, Hypnos. Soup on." You told him as you got your bowl ready.

"Oh. Thanks. Wanna have a soda?" Hypnos asked.

You thanked him as you dug into your own dinner and honestly the cheap ramen was the best thing you tasted after not getting lunch during the drive.

Hypnos was unusually quiet during dinner and while getting ready for bed. You couldn't help noticing that Hypnos never once picked up his phone.

Hypnos yawned and sat on the sofa much more carefully yet the beast still creaked in warning.

You sighed, there was no way you or him would sleep with all that creaking.

"Hypnos, just come to bed. I think it's a queen so we got plenty of room." You told him as you got under the covers. You met his gaze, his eyes bright even with the dark circles under them.

"Okay." He agreed softly. He gave you a look that you ignored as he joined you. He turned off the lights. "Good night, Y/N."

You rolled on your side, back facing Hypnos. "Good night." You yawned widely, already halfway to sleep.

💤

You didn't quite wake up all the way, not at first. You blinked at the wall, small cracks in the blinds allowed for small rays of sunlight to break though. It made the motel room feel cozy even with the ugly decor.

There was an arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders and you sank into its hold with a sigh.

Your eyes closed before your brain realized that you could feel another body pressed against your back, legs tangled together.

You snapped awake, your body went rigid and you heard Hypnos grumbled against your nape.

You relaxed, letting out a breath when you remembered Hypnos was in bed with you. Hypnos, during sleepovers when you were children, always ended up clinging on to you.

It was almost nice, a return to a simpler time. Almost.

It was a very different experience when you both were adults. You flushed when Hypnos pressed a little harder against your body, a pleased, sleepy hum rumbled in his chest.

You could feel him pressed against your lower back and damnit, your traitor of a body was responding. You squeezed your eyes shut, flushed from shame and want.

Your mind flashed back to the last time you allowed Hypnos this close.

You could still remember how he pushed you into his dark bedroom and kissed you again and again. How it felt being under him on his bed. How you almost let him have more.

And you knew you wouldn't survive if Hypnos acted just like he did the morning after.

With the small strength you were able to find, you pulled out of his hold or rather you tried to.

His arm went tight and kept you in the bed, "Where are you going so early?" His sleep rough voice mumbled against your skin.

You ignored the goosebumps he caused and you sighed annoyed. "Come on, you're being a jerk. I need to go get ready for the trip."

"Hmm, we drove more than we planned. We still have some time." Hypnos murmured, clearly going back to sleep. You grabbed the blanket with your free arm and yanked it off the both of you.

Hypnos yelped at the sudden cold and let you go. You darted out the bed and grinned at the scowl Hypnos had. You tossed the blanket over his face and walked away. "Early birds get the worm Hypnos!" You called out as you headed to the bathroom.

You bit back a laugh at the loud groan Hypnos made.

💤

After a quick stop for coffee and pancakes with bacon which Hypnos immediately drowned in syrup much to your disgust of the sheer amount of sugar, you were back on the road.

After an hour of staring out the window at patches of woods between the farmlands, you turned to look at Hypnos.

"What is it about this place that made you pick it? I looked at the map, we could get to the ocean quicker if we went along the other route. " You thought for a moment, "And you know, not to have to drive past the mountains."

"Yeah, if you want to see what everyone else sees and deal with the crowds." Hypnos scoffed. He pulled his shades down a bit to look at you, his windblown curls bounced with the movement.

You prayed he didn't notice your blush.

"Also my mom told me about this place a million times. Trust me, it is going to be worth the wait." And with that, Hypnos focused back on driving.

You turned back to the open window, silently hating yourself for still being attracted to him.

"Hey- is that a cow?" Hypnos asked, already slowing down. You looked down the road and saw the animal. You couldn't help the laugh that came out. "Yeah it is."

The stray cow stared down at the car. It was apparently unconcerned about being hit as it chewed on the grass in its mouth.

Hypnos pressed down on the horn repeatedly and long. The cow kept chewing on its bit of grass, blinking slowly.

"Dumb cow. It knows what it is doing." Hypnos muttered.

You laughed again, "I think that is an oxymoron."

Hypnos scowled and waved his hands at the cow whose tongue had found its nose.

"Well, what bright ideas do you have, Y/N?"

You looked into the bag of snacks down by the footrest. And pulled out a bag of barbecue chips.

"I'm going to lure it out of the road, first chance you get, drive past."

Hypnos pulled his shade down, an eyebrow crocked.

You shook the bag at his doubtful look.

Hypnos' eyes narrowed, eyes sharp and calculating. "That won't work."

"Oh?" You raised a brow. "And why not?"

"Those are barbecue chips, I'm pretty sure even that dumb thing know that smell. And when it smells the barbecue, it will just run you over enraged about the chips."

You leaned toward him, "Wanna make a bet?"

He matched your lean, a bright glint in his eyes. "Sure. If I win, you have to agree to everything I say until we get to the hotel."

"Fine." You agreed. "And if I get the cow out of the way, you can only speak in moos until we get to the hotel."

"Deal." He leaned back into his seat. "Easiest win ever."

You scoffed at him as you got out. "Gee, thanks for believing in me."

You stared down the cow who merely blinked at you.

Hypnos poked his head out the window, laughing "Hey Y/N, when it's moving, start running!"

You shushed him and crinkled the bag at the cow. It took a wary step forward and you opened the bag and it took a sniff.

The cow immediately tried to bite the bag but you took several steps and it followed you. You couldn't stop your smirk at Hypnos' outraged face. "Good cow." You cooed. "Good cow."

You took several steps back into the tall grass and dumped the chips on the ground.

The moment the cow started eating the chips on the ground, you took off like a shot and almost fell into your seat. You barely had a chance to close the door before Hypnos drove off.

You pulled your seatbelt on and waited, a huge grin on your face.

When Hypnos refused to say anything or even look at you, you poked him in his cheek.

"Hypnos." You called his name in a sing-songy tone. "I won the bet. Hypnos. Hypnos." You poked him with each word. There was an evil, childish part of you enjoying this too much.

Hypnos batted your hand away. "Moo fucking moo." He replied sourly.

You playfully frowned, "I don't think cows can say fucking."

"Oh my god."

"They don't say that either."

Part Two

[ironmandeficiency]

internal bleeding

pairing: kix / mechanic!reader

word count: 2425

summary: work can be dangerous, even for someone who barely leaves the star cruiser.

a/n: i’m hitting three birds with one stone with this one!! not only is this shitpost prompt #1 AND a separate request i got a few days ago, but the 14th was my bestie @morganas-pendragons​ ‘s birthday!! have a little kix, kayla, as a late bday treat

warnings: getting kinda crushed by a ship, fives being a dumbass

the guys had just arrived back on board the resolute from what you heard was an almost too easy campaign. despite the lower than normal admittances to the medbay, there were still plenty of ships to tend to with varying amounts of damage.

your normal drill on days like this one was to work like hell until kix was relieved of duty for the night, then go with him to his bunk and let the both of you sleep out your exhaustion in the comfort of each other’s arms. the next morning before you were both summoned to your duties would be spent catching up on each other, letting the worries melt away as you chatted about everything and nothing all at once. it was a system that you both adopted soon after you started dating, one that you were extremely grateful for.

it was nights like that where you were able to see your boyfriend vulnerable in a way he couldn’t show often. if the campaign was more rough than usual, then you were able to hold him and remind him just how wonderful of a man he is. you hated to see him hurting but took comfort in the fact you were always able to bring him back to you, back to his brothers.

thoughts of laying in kix’s loving arms keep you blissfully distracted during the later hours, when the rest of your fellow mechanics had already retreated to the bunks for the night. others thought your late hours spent under various ships were because of your dedication to the cause, but they didn’t know about you and kix. you worked hard so your medic was safe, so his brothers were safe.

those reasons were what had you under general skywalker’s delta-7b aethersprite at some unholy hour of the night. your reputation preceded you, and after some good words put in by torrent company, you were able to become the only person besides general skywalker himself allowed to make repairs on it.

it was a strenuous job sure, what with how the jedi knight wore down his ships, but you enjoyed your work and felt honored to be respected at such a high level.

that is, you enjoyed it when the jacks holding the ship up weren’t breaking while you under the damned thing. you heard the telltale creaking of the jacks while your entire body was on the ground below it. you were never more grateful that chet had convinced you to use one of the rollers.

with all the speed your half-conscious body could muster, you walked your feet forward as fast as you could from under the delta and thought you were home free, but then an excruciating pain erupted in your left arm. the ship was on top of the limb and the weight was no pain you’d ever felt in your life. you were certain your scream should have gotten somebody’s attention, but it seems that you’re all alone.

your comm was, unfortunately, on the wrist of your crushed arm and on the off chance that it wasn’t busted beyond repair, you couldn’t communicate with the thing regardless because the buttons were out of reach.

maybe if the surveillance team would see you eventually but you doubted it. there was no way in the galaxy you were going to let yourself be bested by a damn ship though, so you got to yelling for someone to help you and hoped you wouldn’t lose your voice before help came.

--------

“kix, i know for a fact you haven’t slept in at least two days. get your ass outta here or i’m gonna call your girl in here and have her drag you out.”

“i’m not gonna leave when there’s still so much left to do.”

“you’ve done plenty, vod-”

“coric, i-”

kix wasn’t sure who had a hold on his arm but suddenly he was being dragged out of the medbay, and his body was too weak to resist the familiar grip. “vod, you’ve got a pretty woman waitin’ for ya and she’d hate to see you working yourself to death like this. let’s head to the barracks-”

“no,” kix mumbles, “she’s waiting for me in the hangar, it’s what we always do.” to be frank, kix isn’t completely honest how he’s able to form a coherent sentence with how tired he is. fives says nothing, just nods and takes a turn towards where you were waiting.

the closer the brothers got to the hangar, the more they heard it. they weren’t completely sure what “it” was, but it was a little worrying. the noise kept repeating itself and when they were closer, it sounded… human. they were yelling, and were they crying too? it was hard to tell from here.

warning bells were ringing in their heads and any tiredness kix had before was shoved down deep as they ran to investigate the source of the noise.

if you weren’t in so much pain you would have thought to keep track of the time you spent under the ship. your arm was in a strange limbo of total numbness and almost blinding pain and you couldn’t even focus on your surroundings because all of your focus was on the pain.

no one was listening, no one had been for the past however long you’ve been laying there. your throat was raw from screaming and you began to sob, which didn’t exactly help your throat. you weren’t completely certain when your sobbing began to contain cries for help but what you did know was that the longer you were under this ship, the worse the damage would be.

several more minutes of sobbing and screaming and nothing. not a soul cared that you were pinned down. you were doomed to spend the rest of your days under general skywalker’s ship, forever known as the mechanic whose love for her work killed her.

but wait a minute, were those footsteps? or was it the pounding of blood in your ears?

the two soldiers enter the hangar and their eyes nearly fall from their skulls when they identify your body in such a precarious spot under the bright yellow ship

“cyare! sweetheart, what happened?!”

their feet pound hard on the durasteel floor towards where you were pinned, fear the dominant expression on both of their faces. kix has never seen you cry out of something that wasn’t laughter, and he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to see his headstrong cyare temporarily defeated by a hunk of metal.

“kix, help me get this off her!” fives yelling for his help and the sobs from your throat snapped him back to reality as he helped lift the ship just enough for you to move to the side enough to free your arm.

it almost hurt worse now that the weight was gone which made no sense. once you were free, the men dropped it with a clang and kix was immediately hovering over you, examining the wounded limb. he quickly notices the way your veins are swelling and the unnatural angle of your wrist and is brought to two conclusions: there’s some sort of internal bleeding in your arm that needs to be taken care of immediately, and you have a broken wrist.

“what’s the damage?”

“internal bleeding and a broken wrist. could have been worse but this is a bitch of an injury.”

“internal bleeding? isn’t that where the blood’s supposed to be?”

you wanted so bad to laugh at the stupid joke, it was one of the worst ones you’ve ever heard from him. the most you could muster is a sob-laugh accompanied by a shake of your head. you’d give him the proper laughter later when you weren’t in blinding pain.

fives is watching worriedly as his vod unzips half of your jumpsuit, using the sleeves to tie your arm to your torso. he knows that as a mechanic, your hands and wrists are crucial for your job. would you be let go for this? oh gods, what if you had to leave the resolute? kix would be absolutely crushed without you.

whispering a soft apology in your ear, he lifts you into his arms and begins to run to the medbay as fast as his legs could go. the jostling irritated the wound and brought the tears down harder, and with every step kix was cooing gently and giving choked apologies for hurting you.

“i thought i told you to leave, k- holy shit, what happened?!”

“she was working in general skywalker’s delta when the jacks collapsed and the ship fell on her!”

“there’s a free bed over here!”

coric was struggling to comprehend you crying, that just wasn’t something that happened. ever. he would have continued down this rabbit hole of “holy kriff” but kix was beginning to shout orders. he literally just kicked this man out of the medbay moments ago, this isn’t going to fly. not even - no, especially when the patient is his cyar’ika.

coric and fives could tell that kix’s hands were shaking from several feet away. whether it was because of you, his ongoing lack of sleep, or both, neither of them were sure. a silent plan was devised and fives was soon pulling kix backwards away from you. he was struggling in the arc’s hold, yelling about how he had to be there, how he wasn’t going to leave you. coric was then able to bring the needle to his vod’s neck and pushed in the sedative.

fives gently sat his brother in one of the sparse guest chairs and pulled a second chair next to kix’s. you two weren’t going to be alone, not through something like this.

you woke up connected to machines you knew the names of and how to fix, but not why they were attached to you. then you tried to move your arm and you remembered exactly why in seconds, your eyes seeing spots with the pain. it was nowhere near as bad as it was when you were still under the ship, but it was terrible for just waking up.

then you tried to lift your other side and panicked when you couldn’t move your entire right side. that wasn’t where you were hit, what gives? then you recognized the anti-droid aurebesh and lightning bolt designs and let yourself calm down.

it was just kix, and he was curled around you like a tooka kitten trying to steal warmth. his hands held your right one to his chest, his forehead pressing against your shoulder while the rest of his body was curled up to make itself as tiny as possible. even in sleep, kix was always putting your comfort first.

not wanting to wake him, you decided to gently trace the designs in his hair and count down the minutes until you could kiss him like you’ve been wanting to ever since he left for the planet’s surface.

a throat clears from kix’s other side and you poke your head up with confusion. why was fives there? did he even sleep last night? didn’t look like it.

the arc trooper could see the question forming on your lips and answered it before you could say a thing. “i uh, i didn’t want either of you to be alone when you woke up. i hope that’s okay.”

“that’s more than okay, fives. it’s really sweet of you.”

“yeah it was a guessing game as to which one of ya would wake up first,” you raised an eyebrow as to why they’d be unsure of whether you or kix would be up before the other. “he was frantic when we brought you in, nearly punched coric when he told him to move away from you. had to sedate him to get him down.”

you gasped at the revelation and turned to press a soft kiss to your boyfriend’s crown. it was still jarring to know that you had someone that would fight tooth and nail for you, despite having been with kix for nearly a year. but for him to be given a sedative because he was so violent in his need to help you? it was bizarre. violent was never a word you thought would describe kix, but trying to punch his brother seemed to fit under that category.

he stirred next to you and his hands tightened their grip on yours, his forehead pressing a little harder against your shoulder. a few grumbles came from his throat as he awoke, eyelids droopy as he raised his head.

“are you okay, cyare?” this was more like the kix you know, always putting others above himself from the moment he’s awake.

you hummed and continued to trace his lightning, nodding in reply. “yeah, because you saved me.” he smiles and places a gentle kiss in the palm of your hand before lacing his fingers with yours.

“i helped a little, i think.”

“fuck off, fives.” your boyfriend mumbled groggily as he wrapped himself around you, burying his face in your neck.

“i did!”

it hurt a little less to laugh now and your boyfriend seemed to lose a bit of the tension from the night’s previous events. you smiled and felt kix curl even closer to you, legs tangling with yours like they do every time you share a bed. “thank you fives, your heroism is most appreciated.”

kix chuckled into your skin and began to leave soft kisses on the skin there. “now leave us alone, dumbass. i need some time with my girl.”

fives chuckles and rises from the chair that served as his bed the night prior, patting your leg as he walked by the cot you were laying in. “no funny business in the medbay, you two!” he jokingly wagged a scolding finger at you both.

“oh, get kriffed!”

fives’s head was the only thing visible to you now, a smirk on his face in spite of the somber mood he was in prior to your waking up. “that seems to be your goal, vod!”

your medic grabbed the nearest projectile and hurled it at his head, fives yelping as he ducked barely a second before a datapad stylus speared him in the eye. “thought he’d never leave,” kix jokes. you chuckle at the ribbing and let yourself rest. there was a lot of healing to be done before you’d be back to working shape, you knew that, but having your kix beside you would make it all the easier.

happy late birthday, kayla!!! love you bunches!!!

[bvckleydiaz]

400 Follower Celebration 🍾

I’m finally getting around to do this post (hold for the applause 👏🏼 ) I’m currently at 423 ha. I’ve been trying to figure out what to say and what to post about this.. I mean it’s taken me almost a week to finish it. That being said, I think I’m going to take a page out of @burzekbrettsey’s book and share some of my favorite blogs who’ve helped me get to where I am and ones that you should be following too!

@kelly-severide: Nikki! Oh my sweet sunshine. I could go on and on for hours talking about her. You are the definition of a soulmate best friend. She’s been such a supportive person from the very beginning. She doesn’t believe it, but she’s an artist is every aspect of the word. The content she makes continues to blow me away every time something new gets put out. She’s legit one of my favorite people on this planet. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you🧡

@loveyourownsmiilee: Juju! Oh lord where do i even start. I swear you are my other half. She has the “oliver sense” that comes into play whenever Oliver posts something and deletes it. I mean she snatches those ig stories like it’s her job! We constantly talk about Oli and Ryan. Those are our boys and no one can say any different. She has one of the most positive blogs out there! She has such a bright, beautiful, and kind soul. I’m so glad we found each other 🤍

@burzekbrettsey: Sky! My bestie. We haven’t known each other for long, but I feel like it’s been ages! You are my favorite person to freak out with over Jay Halstead and his thigh holster. I mean that’s such a beautiful sight! Secondly, you are an AMAZING baker!! Have y’all seen the things she can make?!! When she opens her own bakery later in life I’m going to be her number one supporter! I have a feeling it’s always going to be you, nikki and I against the world. Forever homies 🧁

@matan4il: Alice! First off, if you aren’t following her, you are MISSING OUT! Her stories are everything! Since day one I’ve called her the smut queen and she has never disappointed. Her friendship is something I cherish so much in life. She’s the absolute sweetest. If I’m ever having a bad day, she somehow knows it, and helps talk me through it. I’m so grateful for you! ❤️

@fernnette: Fern! We go WAY back! You’ve seen me at my worst (aka the twitter fandom) and yet you still wanna be friends with me.. I don’t know why, but I’m grateful! I can’t even put into words how awesome you are. I’m so glad you made the discord when you did. I feel we’ve grown closer and we’ve made some amazing friends out of it. You are SUCH A TALENTED WRITER. I’m forever stuck on you and your writings. legit the first thing that comes to my mind when i think of you is #horny-jail. Also, as I’m typing this up you are in the discord writing your ass off and it’s v inspirational. like i wanna hop on over and write some. i can’t wait to see what’s coming up next from you 💛

@kenroczen: Jamie! My twin. Eddie Diaz simps unite! Although we get sad when we get someone new in the discord and we lose them to the evan buckley simps, Im glad we got each other! I love being able to talk all things ryan and eddie with you. Oh and don’t even get me started on the big bird gif! I die of laughter every single time someone is talking eddie/ryan with me and you come in out of nowhere. You are the best! ❣️

@doctornineandthreequarters: Jaime! My GGG buddy!! I never would’ve thought I’d bond with someone over buddie and that lead me to bonding over Guy’s Grocery Games. You’re writings are phenomenal! I don’t know how you do it, but you get those fics out so easily. You put so much into your fics and it shows! You’re such a talent! 🖤

@ineedapuppyandsomevodka: Mikayla! I truly didn’t think I’d ever find someone else who has the same inappropriate mindset like me, but here you are! You are relatable in every aspect. Your writings are some of my absolute favorite! Even the same drabbles have me weak. You’re so supportive of me in the discords and I hope I’m at least half as helpful as you are. I’m super grateful for you 💙

@buddie-buddie: Ella! First off, if you don’t know Ella, she’s the mastermind behind the White House AU universe!! She’s BRILLIANT! Whenever I see you in my notifications I can’t believe it. I’m sorry but this amazing writer and human being is in my notifs?!! What even? I know we’ve only become mutuals recently, but I’ve been following your writings since the beginning. I can’t tell you how excited I get when I see an email saying you updated. You are the absolute best! I hope we get to know each other more in the future! 💗

@sneetchestoo: You are so freaking supportive! I can always count on you to be in my notifications. You give me opinions, advice, and help me through hard time. You’re such a sweetheart 💚

@woodchoc-magnum: Felicity! We don’t get to interact very often, but let me tell you when you followed me?!! OH MY LORD I WENT OFF THE WALL. You are in my top 3 favorite writers of all time. You are such a glorious writer. Like all props to you my love! I swear I fangirl a tad bit whenever I see you in my notifs. Thank you for sharing your talents with us 🤎

and the honorable mentions: there’s so many others that I’m grateful for. I say it often, but i don’t know how I have this many followers! Thank you all for being so kind and supporting this, all over the place, blog 💝

@maygrant @trkstrnd @sixringss @siriuslyjamie @seik-o @shameless-aquarius @sometimesimfandomtrash @princessfbi @javachik @imaginebuck @captaincasey @gins-potter @thisissirius @hotchsbabygirl @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @blakestrand126 @selenaurrr @sunshinestrand @tkandbuck

Cheers 🥂

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

You Got That Look In Your Eyes (Part 2)

Summary: Dean is back in town to take the reader on their first date...

Part 1

Pairing: Rockstar!Dean x reader

Square: Rockstar!AU

Word Count: 3,100ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo​​

______

“Who’s the hot date with?” teased Eileen, munching on a bowl of popcorn on your bed.

“She’s not telling apparently,” said Donna, stealing a handful from the bowl.

“That’s also the third time you’ve put on that dress,” said Eileen.

“It’s definitely edgy,” said Donna.

“You mean slutty,” said Eileen.

“Guys,” you groaned. “I asked you to come over to help me.”

“If you’re going for slutty, that’s the one,” said Donna, rolling off the bed as you threw your head back. “Alright, alright.”

Donna walked into the closet and you lay down on the bed face first.

“I take it you’re over douchebag,” said Eileen. You nodded and she laughed, rolling you into your back. “You just did your makeup. Come on.”

“Well it’s too much,” you said, going into your bathroom and washing off your face.

“Is she having a meltdown cause I totally just found the perfect outfit,” said Donna.

“Y/N? You freaking out on us?” asked Eileen.

“It’s just a guy,” said Donna, wandering into the doorway, holding up a flowery dress and your ripped denim jacket you forgot you even owned.

“That’s cute,” you said, wiping off your face.

“Wear your booties with it and this guy will be all over you,” said Eileen. “So who exactly has got you all in a twist?”

“You don’t know him,” you said, taking the clothes from Donna. 

“Go light. It’ll go better with that,” said Eileen.

“Do you want to do my makeup for me?” you asked.

“I’d love to,” she said, grabbing your mascara out of your hand. 

“Eileen,” you sighed, letting her turn your cheek.

“Fine. But I get to do your hair,” she said, slapping the tube back in your palm.

Half an hour later you stood in front of your mirror, hair in a fishtail braid and smoothing out your dress. 

“I bet this guy is gonna love that,” said Donna over your shoulder. 

“Well he’s gonna be here soon so…” you said, all three of your heads whipping around when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” they both said, skirting out of your room.

“Guys!” you said, both pausing at the top of your stairs. “Can you two please reign it in? And like not be here when I get back later? I like this guy.”

“Well she’s been smiling goofily at her phone the past three weeks. I hope she likes him,” said Donna as you headed down the stairs. 

“Please stay up here until I’m gone?” you asked.

“Duh,” they both said.

“Thank you,” you said, jogging down the stairs and quickly opening the front door. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” said Dean with a big smile, handing over a small batch of flowers. “You look beautiful.”

“What’s he look like?” you heard whispered from the balcony.

“I can’t see. He brought her flowers though. Point one for him,” said back Eileen. Dean chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“Roommates?”

“Annoying ass friends who should go away now!” you shouted up the stairs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. I have been looking forward to this for weeks,” he said.

“You look pretty. Handsome. Pretty handsome,” you said, putting a hand on your face.

“I already know you’re a dork,” he laughed. “But thank you. You ready to go?”

“Let me just stick these in some water,” you said, jogging to the back of the house. You set them in a tall glass for now and headed back to the foyer, slipping on your shoes.

“So,” said Dean, wrapping his hand around yours once you were outside and walking to what looked like a nice rental car. “Your friends sound fun. Let me guess. Eileen and Donna?”

“How’d you know?” you asked.

“Oh, you’re always talking about your besties. It’s cute. I’m glad you got them around,” he said.

“They’re annoying...and they want me to get over the douchebag,” you said.

“Are you?” he asked. “We can keep this completely platonic if you want.”

“I am and I didn’t say I wanted to do that,” you said. Dean hummed, giving you a small nod.

“Good cause you have been flirting with me like crazy,” he said, smirking as he walked around the other side of the car.

“Keep it up, Winchester, keep it up.”

“Jeez,” you said twenty minutes later when you were downtown. “Am I dressed up enough?”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “I’m the one in jeans. Come on.”

You followed him into one of the arguably nicest restaurants in town and started to frown.

“I hope I’m not disappointing you but I just wanted to say hi to a friend quick. I haven’t seen him in a while,” said Dean.

“Oh. That’s cool,” you said, surprised when you started to head back into a kitchen and poked one of the cooks in the shoulder.

“Deano?” he said as he spun around.

“Hey Benny,” said Dean, getting wrapped up in a big hug. “Been awhile.”

“I haven’t seen you in a year, brother. So you think that little music thing is ever gonna work out for ya?” he teased.

“Who knows? You ever think that cooking thing will work out for you?” laughed Dean.

“Good seeing you. You look happier than I’ve seen lately,” he said, looking at you. “Well hello. You are far too attractive for my friend here.”

“This is Y/N,” said Dean.

“The Y/N?” smiled Benny. “Wow. Dean’s got such a crush on you.”

“Thank you, Benjamin,” said Dean.

“I think your friends would get along with mine,” you laughed.

“You got any friends as half as good looking as you and I’m all in,” said Benny.

“Down, Benny,” said Dean.

“You guys eating here?” asked Benny.

“Nah. Just wanted to stop by,” said Dean. “Tour’s ending soon so I should be around more.”

“Well let me know. We’ll grab a bite and a drink at my place,” said Benny. “Actually how about at yours, rich boy.”

“I technically still live at home,” said Dean. “I don’t even have a house.”

“That’s because you’re indecisive,” said Benny. “Now you two go enjoy your date.”

“Later, Benny,” said Dean, leasing you back outside of the restaurant. “Thanks for that. I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“It’s no problem. He’d probably get along with Donna if I think about it,” you said.

“Donna’s a cop, right?” he asked. “Benny would love that.”

“Well maybe if this goes well...we can have a little get together,” you said. “When you’re done with your tour.”

“I can’t wait to just sit down and do absolutely nothing,” he said. “Just sit with a guitar and just enjoy playing.”

“You still enjoy it?” you asked, walking with Dean along the sidewalk. 

“The music, sure. It’s pretty cool hearing a song you wrote sung back to you by a ton of people. Hearing it on the radio is pretty incredible too. But I don’t really like the famous part. I hate going to events and stuff like that. I’d rather be hanging out or having a backyard bonfire,” he said.

“I get that,” you said. “I think you should stick with it though.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Take a break, get your head on straight, get some good people around you. You’re not some rookie anymore,” you said.

“True. Not been much in the mood to write until recently,” he said.

“You know this is going to sound bad but I totally went and bought your album on iTunes,” you said.

“Well I appreciate it,” he chuckled.

“Wanna know my favorite song?”

“Baby,” he said, your eyes wide. “You seem like a Baby girl.”

“I know it’s not the song that was a hit-“

“It is actually the worst selling one if you can believe it,” he said. 

“I really like that one,” you said.

“You know that song isn’t about a girl? It’s about that car my dad and I are fixing up. We call her Baby,” said Dean.

“I like it cause it’s a little sad,” you said.

“I wrote that when I found out I was going on tour,” he said.

“I like it,” you said with a shrug.

“I’ve been working on another song. This one actually is about a girl,” he said.

“A break up song?” you asked.

“A getting together song,” he said. “You know, when you got a new relationship, that sort of thing.”

“Oh really,” you said.

“Totally different girl, not you,” he teased.

“What’s her name?”

“...shut up,” he said, smiling when you grabbed onto his arm. “I mainly got the chords down is all.”

“Is it a happy song?”

“Very,” he said.

“Good,” you said, Dean swinging your hands together. “Where we eating dinner?”

“You’ll see.”

“I love the food trucks,” you said, halfway through your fish taco ten minutes later. “The douche hated them.”

“A cheater and he doesn’t like great food? What’s wrong with this guy,” said Dean, shoveling some brisket in his mouth. 

“We work together,” you said. “Sorry. I’ll shut up about him.”

“He an ass at work?” asked Dean.

“No. It’s awkward. He cheated on me with one of our co-workers,” you said. “Work sucks right now.”

“Take some time off, recharge,” he said. “Get away from those guys.”

“I can’t. The company is paying off my student loan if I worked for them for five years. I still have three to go,” you said.

“I could pay off your loan,” he said.

“Thanks but no,” you said. 

“How about a year from now if we’re still dating and you haven’t gotten rid of me and work still sucks, I can pay it off so you can be happier someplace else,” he said.

“Sure, why not,” you laughed.

“I think my odds of a second date just went up,” he said. You bumped his hip and he returned it, enjoying his fries before he started to tense up. “Can we go?”

“Yeah. Everything okay?”

“Somebody’s watching us,” he said. You looked around, Dean grabbing your hand and quickly walking the two of you out of there. “Looked like some paparazzi person.”

“You really hate being famous huh,” you said.

“Yup,” he said.

“Let’s head back to the car. I got a private place we can go.”

“You took me to a murder barn,” laughed Dean as you pulled him up the stairs.

“It’s...it’s just a quiet place,” you said, guiding Dean over to the open doors up on the second floor, sitting down and dangling your feet over the edge. 

“Oh,” he said as he sat down, the night sky on full display. “That’s pretty. How’d you find this place?”

“A few friends and I were riding bikes when we were kids and this huge storm rolled in. We were way outside of where we were supposed to be and we spotted this place and hunkered down here until the storm passed. It’s always kinda been a safe place,” you said.

“Thanks for showing it to me,” he said, finding your hand and lacing it together with yours. “I like you, Y/N.”

“I kinda hoped so after all the flirty texts,” you said.

“You started it,” he said.

“You started texting me first!” you said.

“Cause I knew you’d never text me first. I bet a part of you thought that was a game I was playing,” he said.

“It was a very small part,” you said. “But I don’t think that anymore.”

“I don’t like games. Not those kinds of ones anyway,” he said.

“What games do you like?” you asked.

“I was always a fan of hide and go seek,” he said, hopping up. “Count to a hundred?”

“And if I win?” 

“Bragging rights...and maybe I can swipe some extra passes for your friends,” he said with a smile. “Although you don’t have to win to get those.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. You’d have more fun hanging out with them and I’d like to hang out with ‘em. Now, beautiful. Come and catch me.”

“How are you so good at that?” said Dean as you were sat on the hood of baby, eating some fast food take out and sipping on a pair of beers from your six pack an hour later. “Hide and seek.”

“Older brothers,” you said. “Four older brothers to be exact.”

“I see. You were thoroughly traumatized as a child then,” he chuckled.

“Oh, for sure,” you said. “But I got to annoy the shit out of them.”

“My little brother would agree with you on that,” he said. “Is this okay for like, a first date? I know you were probably expecting better than McDonald’s at one in the morning.”

“I like this first date. It’s simple and we’re not stuck in some restaurant where we can't hear each other talk and it’s fun to just bounce around, ya know?” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Simple’s nice. I like simple.”

“I still can’t believe you’re dating this guy,” said Eileen, shoveling a few chips in her mouth in the VIP room the next night. 

“Want me to do a background check on him?” asked Donna.

“Don, no,” you said.

“Too late,” she said.

“And…” you said.

“Clean record. Apparently he and a friend went for a bit of a little speeding on the highway one night in said friend’s dad’s truck when they were teens. They just scared the shit out of them though. He looks about as harmless as a puppy dog,” she said.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. Still though. I will kill him if I have to,” she said.

“Me too,” said Eileen, eating more chips. “These are so good. Sam hates chips.”

“Yeah but Sam’s like hot,” said Donna.

“Good point,” laughed Eileen, swallowing hard as she stared past you. “Hi.”

“Hi Eileen,” said Dean, giving her a smile before turning to Donna. “Hi Donna. You guys keeping Y/N occupied for me?”

“Uh huh,” they both nodded.

“Guys. He’s like a regular dude. Stop freaking on me,” you said.

“Regular dude who’s gonna sing in front of like a gajillion people,” said Donna.

“I heard you’re a bit of a singer, Donna,” said Dean. You gave her a grin, Donna glaring at you. 

“Yeah...I’m not really great,” she said, poking Eileen. “Eileen. Talk.”

“S’okay. You guys looked like you were having a good time before I interrupted-“

“Your last name is Winchester,” she said. “That’s like...your real name?”

“Uh huh,” he said.

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Sam Winchester on the off chance would you?” She asked with a swallow. Dean’s face lit up, looking Eileen up and down.

“You’re that Eileen! Oh, Sammy is head over heels for you,” said Dean with a laugh. “He’s my little brother. He pretends we’re not related sometimes. I don't really blame him. But he has a super crush on you. He talks about you for hours.”

“Really?” she said.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re awesome,” said Dean. 

“Well, he’s alright,” she said with a shrug, biting her bottom lip.

“You know he believed in the Easter bunny until he was twelve,” said Dean.

“I wonder who told him that,” you said, Dean chuckling. 

“Well I’ve got to run ladies. Enjoy the show and if you guys want anything, be sure to go ask Kyle,” said Dean. He nodded for you to walk out with him, Dean pausing by the door. “Small world with Eileen, huh?”

“Your little brother is a lawyer?” you asked.

“Mhm,” said Dean. “I try to keep him out of this stuff. But I mean, not to gossip but Sammy really loves your friend, you know.”

“I think she knows,” you said with a smile.

“Do you want to grab a bite or a drink after the show?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. “We were thinking of getting a pizza at my house later.”

“I like you guys. You eat all the time,” he chuckled.

“Boys are invited,” you said. “If you want.”

“Can my brother come?” he asked.

“Yeah. Invite your friend Benny too if he’s free,” you said. “You know, Donna’s single and always down to mingle.”

“Alright,” he said with a smile. “Now I really got something to look forward to.”

“Hey, go have fun out there,” you said.

“Okay but only cause you asked,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said.

“But I’m cute right?” he teased.

“Eh…” you said, Dean pouting. “Yeah, I guess you’re cute. Oh hey, what kind of pizza do you like?”

“Whatever you want is fine, sweetheart,” he said.

“Come on. My treat,” you said.

“I never turn down buffalo chicken,” he said.

“You just got more attractive,” you said, Dean smirking at you. “I will order some then and I will see you after the concert?”

“Mhm. Be sure to catch the last song before you head out though,” he said, smiling before he pecked a kiss to your cheek. “Later, Y/N.”

“Alright, I know this is normally the end of the show but I got something new I want to share with you guys,” he said, spinning on his stool, flashing a wink off stage at you. “It’s called Simple.”

“He wrote you a song called that?” whispered Donna in your ear.

“Why?” asked Eileen in your other one as Dean started to strum his fingers.

“Cause for some reason, with Dean, it’s simple.”

_______

[adhduck]

Chapter 3 of But I Can Hope How This Will End is now up, besties, and yes I have chosen violence 😌

AO3

CWs: canon-typical blue veins/disease content; accusation of ‘death wish’ implying suicidal ideation; canon-typical discussions/descriptions of injury, pain, death; several descriptions of blood; slight emetophobia; mentions of past trauma for Zolf; slightly in-depth descriptions of temporary first aid

With Wounds We Can Heal

Wilde almost never goes on missions; even before the curse blocked access to most of his combat skills, he wasn’t built to be an in-field agent. He’s a diplomat at heart, not a fighter, so there’s no need to risk getting him infected when the others can bring information safely back to him.

So when Wilde announces at breakfast one morning he’s going to a meeting, not just in-person but with someone they haven’t verified yet, Zolf is understandably upset.

“Since when do you have a bleeding death wish?” he demands, pushing his plate to the side.

Wilde remains perfectly, infuriatingly calm. “I will admit the risks are higher than usual, but if Mr. Douglas’ information is true, it will be both crucial and time-sensitive. We don’t have a week.”

“Well, isn’t that bloody convenient,” Zolf mutters.

“Does seem like a trap,” Carter agrees. “I mean, he just happens to have exactly what we need, and exactly the right urgency to not go through safety protocols? That’s classic untrustworthy stuff.”

“Which is why I’ve already put in safety measures myself. We will both come alone and unarmed. I made sure the meeting spot was neutral ground, something we couldn’t hide traps or snipers in. Nothing physical will be changing hands, so there won’t be a need for close contact. And just as with his initial report, any information I bring back will be verified before we commit to a next course of action.”

Barnes leans forward, drawing everyone’s attention in that subtle way of his. “What’s your plan if you get into combat? I know you said you’ll both come alone and without weapons, but that doesn’t mean he’ll actually follow that.”

“He knows I’m a talented magic user, and doesn’t know about the shackles, so that should intimidate him into not attacking. And if he does catch my bluff, and my excellent running shoes don’t do the trick—” Wilde shrugs, and Zolf’s hands curl into fists atop the table. “Well, I know I’m none of you, but I can hold my own just fine, I think.”

“Unless you show up and he shoots you right off the bat,” Zolf argues, trying very hard not to picture it. “Or he has a group with, like, invisibility spells or potions or somethin’, and they attack you all at once. Or—bloody hell, Wilde, or anything! There’s no reason to think this man is anything but a danger until he’s gone through quarantine, and even then, he could still be a- a regular ole dick who wants to kill you! You certainly made enough enemies before all this started.”

“Our job,” Wilde says coolly, though Zolf can see just a touch of tension forming in the corner of his jaw, “is to figure out how this blue vein scourge works and stop it. We are saving the world here. There’s no way to do that without a bit of risk.”

“Risk is one thing, but this is just plain stupid,” Zolf snaps back. “If you need the information, fine, whatever, let’s get it. But at least bring one of us with you.”

“That’s not the deal I made with Bo- Mr. Douglas.”

“And? Who says he won’t just break the deal and betray you first chance he gets?”

That, for some reason, brings down Wilde’s façade, but just for a moment—he’s covered it up almost as quickly as Zolf notices. “As I said before, I’ve already done some research on him and the information he presented as evidence of our meeting’s importance. If he’s still himself, not honoring the terms of our agreement will make him back out immediately. And if he’s infected, bringing someone else will almost certainly ensure a fight, and we cannot risk half of our group getting taken out in one go.”

Zolf is going to actually, truly strangle this man. “But we can risk you getting taken out?”

Wilde’s jaw tenses, releases. “We’ve all risked our lives for the cause. This is no different.”

“Yes, it is, because you’re relying on- on bloody trust when the world’s like this—”

The harsh scrape of Wilde’s chair being pushed back cuts Zolf off. Standing over them, Wilde looks every bit the rich, uncaring aristocrat Zolf thought he was all those months ago– save for that same tension in the corner of his jaw. “I’m trusting myself—my research, my insights, my diplomatic abilities.” He sweeps his eyes across the table, lands a few inches above Zolf’s head. “You can trust in me or not, I don’t care. I’m going either way.”

Zolf feels unmoored, suddenly. Like he missed something important, something he’s supposed to say or know. “Wilde—”

“Thank you for breakfast, Zolf,” Wilde says, and it almost hurts more that he sounds sincere. “I’ll be in my office if any of you need me.”

He turns and walks off, and all Zolf can think, a little nonsensically, is I do.

 Wilde leaves for his meeting the next morning, unarmored and alone, and Zolf is absolutely fine about it. Sure, he’s making more bread when he just made some yesterday; and sure, he rearranged the cell five times in some shitty wooden prosthetics because he couldn’t decide whether to put Wilde’s favorite blanket in there. And sure, when he tried to decide on a Campbell to read, he ended up with the only one he can’t read—a Gaelic translation of When Passions Collide Wilde once brought him. But it’s not- he’s just- it’s fine. He’s used to the people he cares about being in danger, and no matter how much he disagrees with Wilde, he does trust him.

So instead of going with Wilde, Zolf bakes bread.

The fussing gets him through the first day of Wilde’s three-day journey with only minimal stress-pacing. He cleans the inn on the second, doing an inventory of their supplies as he goes, and realizes they’re drastically lower on mundane medical supplies than they should be. To be fair, they rarely use them, as all the field agents can be healed magically, but it’s no excuse for this lack of upkeep, especially when Wilde could sustain any number of illnesses or injuries on his mission.

He brings it up to Barnes and Carter, and they agree it’s worth Barnes – who has both social skills and a sword – taking a trip to the village. Zolf gets a firm clap on the shoulder as a goodbye, which he returns with an awkward pat since their height difference doesn’t allow for much else. And for Carter, Barnes curls a hand around his neck and leans their foreheads together; not long enough to make Carter stay still, but long enough to loosen tension Zolf hadn’t noticed from his shoulders.

(Something in Zolf aches.)

Barnes is gone for maybe an hour before Carter gets too antsy to be around the inn and takes off for a run. Since there are no other visitors at the moment, that leaves Zolf alone in the inn besides the owner, who’s manning the bar, so he takes the opportunity to sit by the fire and flip through his Gaelic Campbell, trying to guess which scene is which. He’s doing pretty well, too, and then he spots Wilde’s favorite blanket hanging on the chair opposite him – he’d taken it out of the cell again this morning – and starts to feel the weight of the quiet. How it settles heavy on his heart and lungs, makes the space around him simultaneously cavernous and too small to move in. The deafening loneliness of it.

Zolf’s been around the block enough times to know when he’s starting to spiral, so he heads to the kitchen to make lunch. While he’s at it, he figures he can start prepping soup for tomorrow, which will be easiest on Wilde’s anxious stomach and convenient for leftovers. (Bread, too, but he’s already made far too much of that.)

He’s halfway through getting out the ingredients for miso when he hears the backdoor of the inn open, the muffled sound of his name being called, and his heart does a distinct, worryingly earnest oh.

It only takes thirty seconds to make it to the backdoor; just long enough for Zolf to concoct five or six ways to greet Wilde sans-touch, all of them horrible. Just say hello, you bloody idiot, he tells himself as he rounds the last corner, sees Wilde—

Oh.

There’s this feeling Zolf’s gotten a handful of times in his life, always right before disaster strikes—or after, sometimes, but just before he’s realized. When he kicked the tunnel’s support beam and heard a crack. A breath before he hit the water, already littered with debris and bodies from the ship that used to be his home. Waking in an unfamiliar lab with no legs and Sasha’s organs floating above her chest like some sort of horrible biology experiment. It’s a sort of…grounding feeling, but not in a settled way. Like the last moment before the earth crumbles beneath you, when you’re still on solid ground but somehow you know, you know, you’re about to fall.

Zolf sees Wilde, and he’s falling.

There’s blood—not deathly amounts of it, bleeding out wise, but he can’t tell where it’s from because Wilde’s currently facedown on the ground, weakly trying to pull himself onto his elbows. His clothes are torn, his bag of holding nowhere to be seen. A blood-soaked knife – the only weapon Zolf could convince him to bring – is clutched in one hand.

“Wilde,” Zolf says, and he’s underground again, he’s underwater again, he’s falling.

He starts forward, and Wilde flinches backwards with an alarming burst of energy. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Zolf freezes, forces himself to take a breath. Of course. Wilde was out, he could be infected, they can’t touch. But that doesn’t mean Zolf is gonna let him bleed out. “What happened? Are you injured?”

Finally, Wilde manages to pull himself to his elbows, but hesitates there; he’s leaning all his weight to one side, so probably a broken leg.

“Meeting wasn’t a big hit,” Wilde chokes out, head hanging low; his voice sounds wrong, and not just from the obvious pain and exhaustion. It’s gargled, and sort of twisted up, like he’s got something lodged in the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ noticed, Wilde,” Zolf says. He’s not going to panic. Wilde’s going to be fine, because Zolf’s going to make sure he’s fine, because Zolf is absolutely not going to panic. “Can you walk?”

Wilde lifts his head to look Zolf in the eye, which reveals where a lot of the blood is coming from: there’s a deep wound across his cheek, cutting from below his eye to his chin and ripping through his mouth on the way. He spits some blood, heaves a breath that seems to hurt the whole way in and out. “I could until about thirty seconds ago, yes,” he manages. His arms are shaking; Zolf’s hand twitches.

“Put pressure on that cut, if you can,” he says, trying to sound calmly firm but mostly just sounding impatient. Wilde winces when presses a hand to the wound, but keeps it there. “Good. Now, we’re low on medical supplies, but we should at least have stuff to clean it and sew it back up.”

Wilde nods. “Once I’m in the cell.”

In a show of good bedside manner, Zolf doesn’t outwardly roll his eyes. “Bloody hell, Wilde, I can’t doctor you through the bars. It needs to be before.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I won’t be stupid about it. We’ve got gloves, I won’t touch you at all—”

“No,” Wilde growls, that fierceness rising up again. He breathes in and out, hard, and the anger settles, or at least contains itself. “We get me into the cell, and you work me through how to treat it myself. If I pass quarantine, we’ll do further medical procedures, and if not- well, it won’t matter, because you’ll have killed me.”

Zolf can’t help it; he flinches. “Fuck, Wilde, don’t—look, that cut is bad, okay? You might lose some facial functioning if it’s not treated properly. And if your leg’s broken, which I’m pretty sure it is, you could end up with a limp, or not being able to walk at all.” He winces. “Not- not that not being able to walk is wrong or somethin’, it’s just- I mean, we don’t exactly have the resources—”

He trails off, too panicked to keep track of his words, and realizes that Wilde is…smiling? It’s more of a grimace, but Zolf is almost sure that’s an attempt at a smile. What the fuck, Wilde. He doesn’t answer for a second, either, so Zolf adds, “Wilde? You with me?”

Wilde blinks, then schools his expression into something more formal, nodding seriously. “Your concerns are noted.”

“And?”

Wilde does a rather pitiful attempt at a shrug. “That’s it; I’ve noted them.” And then the absolute bastard starts trying to crawl.

“Poseidon’s soggy arse, Wilde, you’re not making it to the cell like that,” Zolf hisses, looking around for an alternate solution. Gods, why did Barnes and Carter have to leave at the worst possible time?

Spitting some more blood, Wilde bites back, “Well, I have to make it somehow, don’t I?”

“Yeah, but not like—oh, wait, I might have an idea. Stay- stay here.”

(Wilde gives him a particularly withering look at that, which, fair.)

After half a second of hesitation at the idea of leaving Wilde alone and bleeding, Zolf runs for the living area. Wilde’s blanket is still there, and Zolf starts to reach for it, then imagines it stained to ruin with blood, burned to ash as a precaution. He grabs the big quilt instead.

“Here,” Zolf says when he returns, a little out of breath as he presents the quilt. “I can just wrap you up and carry you downstairs.”

Wilde, who is currently trying to work himself into a half-sitting position, eyes the blanket like it’s a vial of bubbling green liquid. “I’m over twenty inches taller than you, Zolf.”

“And yet you weigh about as much as my glaive,” Zolf replies. Wilde still seems unsure, so he adds, “It’s either this or waiting for Carter to get back, and then we can risk two people getting you down there instead of one.”

A muscle ticks in Wilde’s jaw. “Fine. But you don’t touch any part of the quilt that has touched me.”

Zolf lays the quilt out for Wilde to push himself onto—a slow, painful process that has Zolf cursing the world for giving weight to Wilde’s stubborn paranoia. Once he’s settled, Zolf wraps the quilt around him much the way he imagines one would do for a child, focusing his tension into the curl of his fists so the rest of him can be gentle.

He recalls the first night he helped carry Wilde to bed, tucking him in (shoulders, waist, thighs) so he couldn’t wiggle free in the night. This isn’t what I meant, you idiot, he thinks, and pulls Wilde’s half-limp form into his arms.

It’s difficult going, mostly because of the aforementioned two dozen extra inches Zolf has to manage, which also makes it slow. A few times, when Zolf stumbles or is forced to shift his grip, Wilde winces and starts to curl against Zolf’s chest; he always catches himself, though, muffling the noise against the quilt instead. Still, Zolf can feel the ghost of Wilde’s labored breathing on his collarbone, his matted hair against the curve of Zolf’s shoulder. He wants to look at Wilde; he can’t bear to.

They make it to the cell and, miraculously, down the steps, at which point Zolf remembers his legs are, in fact, magical. “Ah, shit.”

Wilde stirs a little from where he’s been drifting in and out of consciousness. (Zolf aches.) “What- oh. Your legs.”

Zolf tightens his grip (shoulders, hips) and does as a small a shrug as he can manage. “Only a problem inside the cell itself. I’ll just go on my knees.”

He manages to grab the keys hanging by the stairs with two fingers, leans Wilde more onto his chest as he unlocks the door and pulls it open. When he drops slowly to his knees, Wilde’s heels and then calves touch the ground; this makes Wilde chuckle, which then makes him curl up in pain. His forehead brushes Zolf’s shirt before he manages to turn away.

“Almost there,” Zolf says, trying his damnedest to not sound shaky. He shuffles into the cell’s interior, suppressing a grimace at the sensation of his legs going dead, and gently lays Wilde down. Their eyes meet for a moment, then he shuffles back out and locks the door.

“All right, now keep up pressure on your face, and since we can’t elevate your leg yet, just try not to move it, all right? I need to grab supplies, so just- just don’t go anywhere, or somethin’.” Wilde manages a full glare, which is almost relieving. “Okay, yeah, I know, I just meant- just don’t- you know. Yeah.”

Wilde sighs, nods his head. “As long as you bring me some wine, too.”

“I’ll bring alcohol,” Zolf promises, “but it’s for the wound, not for drinking.”

This earns him a heavy, dramatic sigh, and Zolf lets himself a smile a bit before he heads back into the inn proper. A bard to the last, that one.

He’s pulling out the last of the supplies he needs – which is everything they have – when Carter gets back. He comes in the front door at least, thank gods; Zolf doesn’t want to have this discussion standing over a pool of Wilde’s blood. He intercepts Carter as he enters the seating area, ready to explain, but it’s not hard to guess: bundle of supplies in one arm, alcohol and pillow in the other, what’s sure to be a harrowing look on his face. (Not hard for Carter, anyway, who’s already too perceptive for his own good.)

“What happened?”

Zolf huffs out a steadying breath. “Meeting went wrong, Wilde came back early, he’s not doing well. Got ‘im to the cell, but.” He lifts his full arms awkwardly.

“Shit. Did they betray him?”

“Didn’t ask.”

He nods, frowning. “Yeah, fair enough. Should I—actually, you know what, you should have that covered right now, so I’ll take watch. Make sure nobody followed him.”

Zolf hadn’t thought of that, and he kicks himself for not being more careful. “Good plan. Thanks, Carter.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says; brushes his hand over Zolf’s shoulder, a half-pat, then he’s off again.

When Zolf makes it back to Wilde, he’s in almost the exact same position he was left in: wrapped in the blanket, barely conscious, keeping up a low hum of pain. “Hey,” he says gently, and Wilde stirs a little. “Time to patch you up, yeah?”

“Sorry,” Wilde replies, unfolding the blanket and easing himself into a sort of lounging position. There are clear streaks of tears down his face; his jaw is completely clenched.

“Ain’t gotta be,” Zolf says firmly, sliding the supplies through. “Let’s get the blood cleaned up, see what we’re working with.”

Wilde raises an eyebrow but says nothing as he takes the damp cloth and gets to work. A lot of the blood has dried already, coming off in flaky clumps as he wipes away the worst of the mess on his cheek. He’s incredibly delicate around the wound itself, but there’s a sharpness to each careful swipe across his jaw and chin that tells Zolf he’d be harsher if he had the energy to be.

His mouth is what Wilde gets to last, resoaking the rag for the third time to squeeze out the blood, and as he swipes the corner delicately over where his lips have been torn open, Zolf—gods, it’s horrible, it’s unforgivable, he shouldn’t even be acknowledging it. But in that moment, with Wilde hurt and half-conscious and maybe just days away from not even being Wilde anymore, Zolf thinks for the very first time: I think I want to kiss him.

“So?” Wilde says; Zolf startles, which at least gets a fond little exhale. “What’re we working with, oh mighty healer?”

“Um.” Zolf absolutely cannot look at Wilde right now, but he also has to. He compromises by squinting a little, blurring out everything that isn’t the problem at hand. “Yeah, uh, it’s—you’re definitely gonna need stitches, though I don’t know if you can handle that at the moment.”

Wilde glances down at his shaking hands; the movement briefly unbalances him. “You’re probably right—as much as it wounds me to say it.”

It’s unclear whether that was intended as a pun, and Zolf’s not in the mood to find it funny either way, so he just nods. “We’ll just have to temporarily close it, then.”

Thinking of a way to do this takes several minutes, during which Wilde cleans the wound with an alcohol-soaked rag and a worrying lack of complaints. Finally, what Zolf figures out is to take a piece of surgical tape that’s slightly too small and stretch it across the cut so it’ll pull the sides together, trimming the middle part so it doesn’t stick to the wounded skin. He has to guide Wilde through some complex extra wrapping to stop it from peeling off without covering up his eyes, mouth, or nose; it ends up looking rather ugly and pins Wilde’s snarled hair to his head, but it seems to help.

They clean up a couple other scrapes and gashes Wilde didn’t mention earlier – there’s one on the side of his ribcage, shallow but terrifying with its intent – and then get to his leg. With Zolf unable to examine the injury properly, he can’t confirm what the exact issue is, but it’s not grisly, so Zolf walks Wilde through a basic wrapping and tells him to elevate it on the overstuffed pillow he brought. “We’ll need to do more when you’re out, of course,” he adds. “But right now your job is just to sleep.”

It says a lot about Wilde’s current state that his only response to that is curling up on the blood-soiled blanket, perching his leg awkwardly on the pillow, and falling asleep within seconds. Even with the accompanying ease of tension, he looks awful: clothes ripped and dirty, left trouser leg sheared off from the thigh down for the cast, a mummy-like arrangement of surgical tape crisscrossing his overly pale and pink-stained face.

But he’s also alive, and Zolf allows himself a shaky exhale at the knowledge. Puts his face in his hands when that breath threatens to quicken, focuses on the divine warmth in his chest until the panic fades. He looks back at Wilde, his hand resting delicately beside his face, a few locks of hair obscuring his cheek, and there it is again, that feeling—that terrifying, horribly-timed feeling that prickles at the tips of his fingers and in the pit of his stomach, that stretches languidly in his chest like a stray cat who’s decided to stick around. That makes him hope for something he doesn’t even have a name for.

Fuck.

[redcolored]

hey  besties!  im  cc  and  im  ecstatic  2  be  here.  this  is  the  dumbest  bitch  alive,  cherry  and  i’m  so  excited  to  write  them  again  as  they’re  a  bit  of  a  revamp  <3  as  a  psa,  i  have  their  career  claim  as  paris  hilton  n  it’s  mostly  just  her  silly  memes  n  early  2000s  attitude  vs  her  actual  reality  show!  anywho,  pls  like  this  for  plots  <3

˛ ⠀ * ⠀ ★ ⠀  ROH  JISUN  .   DEMI  GIRL  .  THEY/SHE      ⧽ ⠀ have  you  seen  the  786  latest  post  ?  sources  say  they  have  some  serious  dirt  on  the  child  of  a  big  time  OIL  EMPIRE  HEIR  AND  HIGH  PROFILE  SOCIALITE  .   they  haven’t  revealed  who  it was  yet  but  my  best  is  on  RI  CHAE  -  WON  !  ever  since  that  last  update  about  how  they  BROKE  UP  A  ROYAL  ENGAGEMENT  (  ‘  ON  ACCIDENT  ‘  ) .   i  don’t  put  anything  pass  them  .  i  mean  ,  these  celebrity  kids  are  just  out  of  control  .   they  do  whatever  they  want  ,  whenever  they  want  and  are  ungrateful  in  the  process  !!  i  mean  take  CHERRY  for  example  ,  they’re  a  TWENTY - THREE   year  old  SOCIALITE  ,  and  what  did  they  do  to  get  there  ?  have  famous  parents  !  like  hello  ,  just  because  you  BECAME  THE  (  SECOND  )  MOST  FOLLOWED  PERSON  ON  INSTAGRAM doesn’t  mean  you  actually  deserved  it  .   i’m   glad   the   786   is   taking   them   down   a   notch   .   it’s   about   time   someone   does   . 

full   name     .     ri  chae-won alias(es)   +   nickname(s)   +   title(s)     .      cherry  (  derived  from  being  called  chae  ri  during  childhood  ),  dumb  bitch  (  lovingly  ),  instagram  user  cherryzooted,   preferred   name     .     cherry age   +   dob     .     twenty  -  three,   july  1 natal   chart     .     cancer  sun,  cancer  moon,  cancer  rising  .  so  ...  good  luck gender   +   pronouns     .     demi  girl  +  they  /  them  /  she  /  her orientation     .     graysexual  +  grayromantic birth   place     .     seoul,  south  korea hometown     .     silicon  valley language(s)   spoken     .     in  order  of  fluency:   korean,  japanese,  english,  french  –  conversational  dutch  +  mandarin accent     .     100%  valley  girl  accent,  plays  it  up  these  days,  but  normally  just  sounds  californian occupation     .     full  time  hot  girl,  full  time  story  updater,  full  time  responsibility  avoider,  full  time  twitter  personality,  undercover  heiress  trying  to  girlboss  her  way  to  a  ceo  position parallels     .     karen  smith  (  mean  girls  ),  brittany  s  pierce  (  glee  ),  on  the  flip  side:  ransom  drysdale  (  knives  out  –  in  the  ...  two  faced  way,  not  the  murderous  way  ahaha  ),  fallon  carrington  (  dynasty  ), 

they  are  old  money,  truly.  their  mother  is  a  high  profile  socialite  who  comes  from  an  enterprising  family  (  think,  owns  ivy  league  university  enterprising  and  has  stakes  in  every  field  imaginable  )  while  their  father  is  an  oil  empire  heir.  of  course,  her  parents  got  married  for  money  and  for  reputation  –  and  in  their  wildest  dreams,  had  one  (1)  child  that  they  hoped  would  be  an  heir  to  their  titles.

except,  their  child  was  cherry  and  she’s  the  “dumbest  bitch  alive”.  cherry  was  born  on  the  first  of  july  and  had  a  platinum  spoon  in  their  mouth  from  the  very  first  laugh  they  gave.  cherry  was  really  given  everything  from  the  moment  she  was  born  to  this  very  day  –  private  tutors  (  all  who  quit,  thanks  to  her  ),  private  chefs,  nannies,  trainers,  anything  that  she  could  want,  she  got.

so,  a  bit  of  a  spoiled  brat  and  actually,  not  as  dumb  as  she’d  like  the  world  to  believe  she  is.  quite  an  unfound  genius,  but  as  a  teenager,  started  to  go  viral  on  early  tumblr  and  instagram  and  even  vine  due  to  a  certain  image.  it  started  honestly  as  a  joke  where  she  would  pretend  to  ask  questions  that  are  so  absurd  just  to  see  how  people  would  respond,  but  as  the  early  internet  is  –  they  took  her  seriously.  so,  she  just  ...  kept  up  with  it.

to  this  day,  their  social  media  is  mostly  one  big  satirical  account,  but  since  they’ve  been  doing  it  for  so  long,  people  just  go  along  with  it.  in  reality,  they’re  a  lot  more  cunning  than  people  think  and  definitely  getting  ready  to  succeed  the  company  from  their  parents  (  after  all,  they  just  got  a  masters  degree  from  princeton  –  which  made  her  instagram  followers  kind  of  confused  but  they  just  said  that  they  were  in  a  silly  goofy  mood  and  shouted  out  their  favorite  tutors  ).

her  cunningness  is  the  reason  why  she  accidentally  broke  up  a  royal  engagement.  the  story  goes:  cherry  uploaded  an  instagram  story  where  a  certain  royal  prince  was  spotted  in  the  background,  half  naked  on  their  bed.  they  said  oopsy - daisies  and  then  put  it  as  a  highlight  on  their  instagram  for  like  forty - eight  hours  before  saying  oh  my  word!  and  deleting  it.  apologized  profusely  after  the  engagement  was  called  off  and  then  went  on  twitter  to  say  my  bad.

anyway,  current  day,  is  enjoying  the  last  few  year(s)  of  their  socialite  life,  continuing  to  push  an  image  that  gets  them  the  most  traction  and  engagement  online  to  really  bump  up  their  image  n  views  before  they  ultimately  retire  from  social  media  to  become  an  oil  empire  +  clean  energy  +  university  heiress.  if  this  doesn’t  make  sense,  idk  either.

personality  wise     .     i  feel  like  it’s  absolutely  no  secret  to  the  inner  circle  that  they’re  not  as  ditzy  as  they  seem  irl.  they  can  definitely  be  more  than  catty  and  very  aggressive  aggressive  to  get  what  they  want  –  as  they  fail  to  ever  beat  around  the  bush.  an  absolute  villain,  cherry  knows  what  she  wants  (  an  empire  )  and  really  has  no  trouble  stepping  on  people  to  get  there.  that  being  said,  even  if  they’re  a  bit  of  a  villainess,  fails  to  ever  find  the  heart  in  being  catty  and  mean  to  people  who  don’t  deserve  it  –  i.e.  the  kind  and  the  good.  anyway  idk  what  i’m  writing  i’m  delirious.

wanted  connections  include     .     unholy  trinity  (  open  to  2  ),  academic  rivals  (  if  they  ever  attended  school  together  or  uni  –  she  went  to  brown  undergrad  +  princeton  for  grad  school  ),  pr  friends  /  relationships,  someone  constantly  featured  on  her  instagram,  fake  enemies  on  social  media,  somebody  they  surpassed  on  instagram  in  followers  and  then  tagged  them  n  said  “haha  im  sorry  <3″  on  their  story,  (future)  business  partners  /  associates  (  in  secret  though  because  rn  she’s  still  “not  an  heiress”  ).

[djemsostylist]

Thoughts on Episode 26 of SCK

In short--I loved it. 

There is a lot I could say about it, and I’m sure most of it has already been said by people far more eloquent than I.  But I haven’t written down my thoughts about an episode in while and if ever there was an episode to talk about, well, this one was certainly it.  

There was a post I saw going around a few weeks ago about how sometimes enjoying a piece of media means viewing it with a measure of grace.  As a critical person by nature, I thought a lot about what that means, and I’ve decided that it means that sometimes, a piece of media may not be perfect, but if the soul is there, that is the only thing that matters. 

So, I think one of the major issues I’ve seen talked about with 26 is that it felt too good.  And to some degree, that makes sense.  Let’s be honest, 22-25 were not very good.  They had great singular moments, but taken as a whole, they were a bit of a mess.  20-21 gave us beautiful set up and direction and forward movement with not only Serkan and Eda as a couple, but as individuals, and that’s even with the contract mess.  But then 22 and 23 came along and we have Eda acting like a brat, intimate scenes that were cute and hot but ultimately a let down since the end result was always an “I love you” from Serkan followed by an -_- face from Eda, and basically no real forward movement with their relationship or character at all.  Add the introduction of one of the worst characters in television, and you kind of had a mess.  And while 24 was better, it still felt weird.  Serkan is acting distant, Eda is acting married, and again, no going anywhere until the last 5 minutes of the episode.  Plus the long awaited BA shows up and it turns out she’s a Disney villain with even thinner motives.  Then there was 25, which I think left most of the fandom feeling empty.  Serkan and Eda are at their very lowest possible point, and all their friends and family don’t seem to care and the amount of Edser scenes was too low to give us enough to not want to rage at the final scene. Plus, dubbed Prince showed up attempting to recreate a plot from Vampire Diaries and welp.  

So in 26, we start with what should be a devastated Eda and Serkan who have no path back to each other.  We were fully expecting another few weeks of breakup and Eda having to chase Serkan and more moping and more sadness and we didn’t get that.  Instead, we start with an Eda who is ready to do whatever it takes to spend as little time away from Serkan as possible and a Serkan who isn’t going to let go.  His plan is brilliant, and it works.  He knows something fishy is going on--despite her words the night before, which certainly hurt, she was also literally in tears and had been for the whole day.  And he knows she loves him.  In a way, his actions at the start of 26 are another brilliant parallel to the beginning of 19--Serkan breaks and decides to tell Eda everything the moment it becomes clear that she might actually move on with her life and he will lose her forever.  Eda breaks at the beginning of 26 when it’s clear Serkan is going to be a cool cucumber about everything and stop chasing her.  (I’m saying they could have probably solved all their issues in 15 if Eda had asked Efe on a date-Serkan would have been on his knees confessing and proposing in 10 min. flat, but I digress.)

No, they don’t have a ton of conversation in this.  There aren’t heartfelt, long dialogs about the wrongs they’ve done and the things they feel.  Frankly, they aren’t necessary.  Serkan has, at this point, said all he needs to say and he couldn’t be clearer.  And while we still haven’t heard Eda say “I love you”, her actions this episode show it, and he knows it, and well, if that end scene isn’t the biggest “I love you” idk what is.   

I was talking with @lolo-deli about the episode and she made an excellent point.  I’ll quote here “Their conversation in hall was short in dialogue but heavy in meaning and implication. In very few words they established: last night was real (and implied to be meaningful), she needs time to work out some complications (he understands what this means, she loves him and the break up was what was not real) and he will both trust her and wait for her without pressuring her AND he's still worried about her (in this case over Seyman which turns out to be a non-factor ama neyse!). That's a lot of important conversation wrapped up in a a 90 sec convo but it fits them because they understand one another very well.”

This is true of their conversation in the conference room after.  They almost go back down the jealousy fight spiral we’ve seen 100 times, but instead, Eda stops herself, Serkan stops himself, and instead of fighting, they talk and both agree they were wrong and acting silly and reaffirm their love and trust for each other.  In fact, both of them verbalize to their friends that they are 100% sure of the other and their feelings--they aren’t threatened by the Prince and B because of their fear of losing the other, but because both of those characters are creepy and dangerous and unhinged.  

I was okay with this episode because we spent 21 episodes watching them grow apart and together--sure the previous episodes were rough, but it was a transitional period.  I’m giving grace--and to quote lolo-deli again  “They trust each other, it's really that simple. We didn't need to have a half hour of conversation to establish that. Just like we don't need to see Eda chasing Serkan for two more episodes to prove she loves him because she does. Also simple. We know and he knows it. He deserved affirmation and he got it, she bloody well proposed marriage.”

And this is how I feel.  26 wasn’t perfect--I still didn’t care for the AAA plot, Thor and Barf need to be gone fast, and BA is kind of a one dimensional villain I want to like more than I do.  Engin and the rest of the friends were better this episode--Serkan and Engin talked for the first time in what feels like forever, Melo and Ceren were excellent support for Eda, and Serkan and Ferit are still on track to becoming the besties I want them to be.  I’m not 100% sure what Eda’s plan is to get around BA, although maybe she decided to take Serkan’s advice from 13 and just let it all burn down around them and they will be stronger together for it.  Honestly, Serkan was back and on fire this episode (and hotter than ever as a result) so maybe she knows that together, it doesn’t matter what BA is gonna do. 

We don’t know what is coming in the next few weeks, or what is left in front of us.  We’ve had a string of disappointing episodes.  But Serkan and Eda have been apart for 11 episodes and they are finally back together and on the same page at the same time for the first time ever in their relationship.  

In closing, I’ll leave you with this.  Regardless of how you feel about 26, Eda Yılız, chronic “leaper before looker” took the time to steal back Serkan’s ring, get together that look, find the world’s most extra ring box, sneak onto Serkan’s private plane, and then recreate their first real moment together (which we were oh so recently reminded of) in order to ask the love of her life to marry her.  And that is beautiful, no matter how many subplots get lost or editing goes bad.  Eda Yıldız asked Serkan Bolat to marry her with a ring with her name inside it on a plane where they first went from “nothing to something”.  Poetry and  parallels and I loved it.  

[flashthescalesian-art]

Crashed Party - part 2 (collab)

Here’s the surprise I was talking about! My bestie @thehannalyzer​ and I decided to do a collab for this part! She did the art, I wrote the ficlet. So before you read this, go check out her art!!

Now, on to the fluff since you guys got angst for part 1!

—————

Riyo glanced up from her desk when the door opened, then she dropped her datapad’s stylus.

“Good afternoon, Senator,” Fox greeted softly as he moved the rest of the way into the room, limping slightly.

Without thinking, Riyo jumped to her feet, ran across the room, and threw herself against Fox, earning a grunt of surprise. “I’m so happy to see you out of the medcenter!” She hugged him tighter, earning another surprised noise.

“I’m glad to be out too, but I’m still sore,” he croaked, sounding pained.

Riyo let go immediately, feeling guilty. “Oh! Oh, did I hurt you?!”

Fox put a hand to his belly, where he’d been badly bruised a week ago. “N-nothing serious, ma’am... Just a bit sensitive is all.”

And he’s back to being formal again. “Please, Fox, call me Riyo in private. Is there anything I can do to help with your pain?” He was probably on painkillers since General Ta’em didn’t seem like the type of person to let anyone under her command not take care of themselves, but maybe Riyo could help some other way.

“Not really... I’m just supposed to ice my abdomen and not be on my feet for more than four hours. Bacta doesn’t help internal bruising much. I’m not allowed to do anything except paperwork in my office, so I’m off duty right now,” Fox replied.

“Well if you’re off duty, you can come sit while I get you the cool pack I have,” Riyo said, gently leading him over to the small couch she had in her office. He was in a new set of armor despite being off duty, but he probably felt vulnerable after the bombing that had nearly cost him his life last week, so Riyo didn’t blame him.

“S- Riyo, you don’t have to-“ he started to protest as she fluffed the throw pillows and helped Fox lean back against them. “You don’t need to do this.”

Riyo gently grabbed the sides of his helmet and began pulling it off, hearing the hiss as it disconnected. She gave him plenty of time to resist, but he didn’t, so she set his helmet on the caf table. “I don’t need to do this, no. But I want to. Can you get your armor off? At least your top half so you can ice your bruises?” Fox nodded and sat up slowly before beginning to unbuckle his chestplate. “I’ll be right back,” Riyo said, going back to her desk and pulling out the cooling pack, then turning it on. It already started to cool down as she headed back over to Fox. He was settled against the pillows again, the top half of his armor on the floor.

“Here, use this and see if it helps.” She handed Fox the cold pack and watched as he gingerly set it across his belly.

He relaxed and leaned his head back, looking almost content. There was still a hint of unease in his face, but he wasn’t as tense as he usually was. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Riyo smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “I should be thanking you for saving my life. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to visit you more while you were in the medcenter. I hope it wasn’t too lonely.” She had wanted to visit him more than once, but there had been so much to do that she hadn’t had time.

Fox shrugged slightly. “General Ta’em stopped by with Xanathe a lot, and Thorn and Thire took shifts staying with me the first couple nights.”

“That’s good.” The two Jedi likely lifted his spirits, and his brothers certainly did. “So you haven’t been in too much pain?” Riyo had a feeling that Fox was downplaying his injuries.

“Not since I was released yesterday, no. The painkillers work, but they make it hard to focus,” he replied, settling deeper into the pillows and blinking sleepily.

Riyo smiled. She’d never seen him tired and content before, only stressed and fighting sleep because he’d been awake too long. Kriff, he’s adorable like this. “I have some paperwork to wrap up, but you’re more than welcome to stay and rest,” she said, leaning down to kiss where his scar met his hairline on his forehead. Fox froze for a couple seconds, then tipped his head up to look at her, his cheeks flushing. Riyo simply smiled and walked back over to her desk. Fox drifted to sleep within five minutes, his steady breathing filling the quiet office. Riyo sighed happily as she went back to work. For just a few hours, things seemed at peace. 

[invisibleinorange]

Bridgerton’s Adrift  | 20/?

Chapters: 20/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton,  Pretty Much Everyone (at points) Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes".

Eloise didn’t know what it was like to fall in love.

Everything that she knew about the concept came from books or the relationships of people around her.  She only had a vague recollection of her parents prior to her father’s death. Half the time, it felt more like other people’s memories than her own.  She hated the fact that with every passing day she remembered her own father less and less.  Aubrey Hall had been her first home and yet it always felt strange to be there. London always felt more like home but that was where she’d spent the majority of her formative years.  She’d returned there out of love for her brother though.

Benedict hadn’t been himself since Colin returned.  She dared not speculate his feelings at first but she had known he was running away from something. She’d always been particularly close to him. Even though he didn’t tend to have many secrets, she usually was the family member to figure them out.  Just like he’d treated her cuts and bruises as a child, she wanted to fix whatever ailed him. That was why she followed him to Aubrey Hall.

She assumed that like all the past moments where they’d experienced an upset or difficulty they’d be able to fix it.  It was a bit of an egotistical notion to think that she could be the one to help him find his way back to the family but it was truly what she’d thought.

She had assumed it would be easy.  It wasn’t.

The brother that she found at Aubrey Hall looked like Benedict but there was something very hollow, sad about his presence. He was there but he might as well have not been. It had been weeks and despite having plenty of opportunity, he kept every conversation succinct and impersonal. He hadn’t once confided in her how he was feeling when she’d ask how he was. A simple ‘fine’ was his go-to reply and she knew he was far from it.

She had thought that if she brought up home, that might encourage him to speak about it.  Every time she received a letter from Penelope or an entry from Whistledown, he’d read it aloud.  He looked uncomfortable at the latest mentions of Colin and Penelope but the way he looked when she’d get a new article from Whistledown was much worst.  Even on a good day, those things would cause him to make an excuse and lock himself away. She usually wouldn’t see him until days later.

The first time he’d skipped a meal, she’d thought he might be ill and she’d even gone as far as to take it to his room for him.  The door was locked though and when she knocked he didn’t let her in to deliver it.   When he finally did emerge the next day, he looked tired and older but he acted as if he hadn’t been a ghost.

She’d had never seen him like this and she was beginning to worry.  It did cross her mind that Benedict might never return to the family. She didn’t want to meddle and make things worse but she didn’t like the state of things. She didn’t want to see her favorite brother unhappy but she also didn’t quite know what the solution was.

She had thought a solution could be found in non-familial companionship. He also didn’t seem to want to discuss that either. She’d casually suggested he reconnect with the Modiste or literally find anyone to be less gloomy. She’d mentally prepared herself for him to say no but she hadn’t been prepared for an absolute meltdown.

Benedict was always the quietest and the gentlest of her brothers. The bottled up emotions exploded at that suggestion though. He destroyed one of their mother’s favorite vases with fist. When he realized what he’d done, he cried and Eloise couldn’t remember ever seeing him cry. She knew it wasn’t about the vase or the fact he’d managed to hurt his hand. He didn’t say it but somehow she knew: his heart was broken.

If this was what love was like, Eloise was more certain than ever that she wanted nothing to do with it.

--

Even though Eloise didn’t tell him that she pitied him. Benedict knew it. He hadn’t asked her to come. He hadn’t wanted anyone to be there with him. He needed time to mourn in peace without anyone in the Ton judging him.  Penelope Featherington might not have been dead but she might as well have been.  She was going to marry Colin.

A few months ago, it wouldn’t have been a problem. He would have been thrilled at the choice and welcomed her into the family.  He didn’t think he could stomach it now. He couldn’t bear to put on a smile and watch her marry Colin. He couldn’t handle seeing them at family dinners and seeing her smile or laugh at the things Colin could say. He couldn’t handle thinking of them sharing a marital bed or her stomach swelling with his nieces and nephews.

He wasn’t foolish enough to try and stop it nor did he want to. He wanted nothing more than for her to be happy and he knew that she would be. He knew Colin would actually treat her well.

It was selfish but he intended to never return to London. If he’d been less of a coward he would have bought a ticket to America or France and slipped beyond his mother’s grasp. Aubrey Hall was his stepping stone.  He needed to go so far away that no one in the family could question why he didn’t return home for holidays or weddings.    

Eloise wasn’t letting him.

The morning after he’d cried in front of her, he debated leaving at first dawn.  She wasn’t a morning person so she wouldn’t hear him slip out and by the time she saw his letter informing her of his plans he’d be too far gone.

When he started to write the letter, he couldn’t bring himself to compose it so things continued on as they had been.

--

Mothers rarely interrupted the solitude of bachelor quarters but most men didn’t have Violet Bridgerton as their mother.  Anthony had been sleeping off a hangover when he heard his mother’s huff as she pushed back the curtains to the room.  The sunlight was appalling and he attempted to pull his pillow over his head.

“Where is your brother?” she demanded of him.

He grumbled in his sleep.

“At his place or… wherever Penelope is,” he said.

“That’s to be assumed. She told me she was visiting her family but Portia Featherington says she hasn’t seen her in weeks,” Violet said.

He lifted the pillow away, dark hair shaggy from bed head. His gaze moved to his mother and he realized she was worried and not actually mad. His brain caught up to the moment.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” he said after a moment.

“Colin was supposed to be with you at a match,” she said after a moment. “I can only imagine that there wasn’t one.”

Anthony debated covering for his little brother there but he knew better than to do that in this moment. Violet was a force and even if they were okay, he was going to have to go and find them.

“I was at the club until hours ago,” he confessed.  “If you’ll be so kind to give me some privacy I’ll get dressed and go find them.”

Violet crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes.

“I gave birth to you. There’s nothing I haven’t seen,” she uttered before complying and headed toward the door.  “You better find them before I do.”

--

Anthony checked every place he knew to search and came up empty handed as far as the city went.  He’d thought he would find them easily but there was no sign of them anywhere.  He begrudgingly called upon the Duke of Hastings for assistance.

Simon had far more resources in the city to operate from.

It was dusk before they learned from a servant who had heard from a footman that Colin had taken to sneaking away with Penelope for romantic time.  They’d apparently last been seen leaving the city in a carriage.

His theories went salacious but it was Daphne who suggested that perhaps there was nothing salacious happening at all.  It was possible that they were headed to Scotland to wed.

Anthony did the math in his head.  It would take 4-5 days if they traveled 12 hours at a time.  They had a good lead on him but if he traveled on horse instead of carriage, he might be able to catch up.  He didn’t necessary intend to stop them.  Perhaps if they wed, the family could finally have a little peace.

He took off immediately only stopping to rest the first time when he reached Aubrey Hall because he was famished and exhausted.  He knew he could find Eloise and Benedict there and if there was anyone who’d know how to find them it would be that pair.

He found them in the drawing room.

Eloise was face first in a book and Benedict was drawing.  He briefly caught sight of it and found it a bit… somber but now wasn’t the time to focus on that.

“What are you doing here?”  Eloise asked.

“I own this home,” Anthony said after a moment. “Besides, I needed rest and reinforcements.  Colin and Penelope have gone missing and my top suspicion is that they’re headed to Scotland.”

Benedict stiffened, struggling to keep his face impassable while Eloise looked alarmed at the news from London.

“You should just let them go,” Benedict said after a moment.

“I’m not planning to stop them,” he said with a sigh. “I’m mostly planning to drag them back home so our mother can murder them for not having the decency to inform someone of their intent as my wedding gift.”

“Coldstream Bridge,” Eloise said after a long moment. “Lady Whistledown mentioned it recently.  She was talking about – well, it was an elopement for a young Earl who fell in love with someone and couldn’t bear to await a special dispensation.”

Benedict was on his feet, grabbing his coast before there could additional discussion of it.  Anthony exchanged a glance with Eloise before shrugging.

“So much for rest,”  he grumbled before following him.

Series this work belongs to:

[drariellevalentine]

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 6- Satirical Shocks

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Ethan Ramsey, Sienna Trinh, Elijah Greene, Jackie Varma, Landry Olsen, Aurora Emery, Rafael Aveiro, Naveen Banerji

Warnings:- None

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

You wake up quite early, deciding to go for a mile of cycling to work off all that chocolate and sugar that you ate the past two weeks. After changing into a black and aqua streaked gym outfit and pulling your thick hair into a high ponytail, you head out to your balcony, headphones in hand. Playing your regular playlist, you roll out your yoga mat and start stretching. Working your way through your body from head to toe, you head out to the empty and dark kitchen. “Guess no one’s up.” You open the fridge and pour yourself a glass of vanilla almond milk. After drinking, you check your phone and pager to make sure there aren’t any emergencies and head down to your parking lot after grab your backpack, phone, water bottle, and your Apple Watch to track your stats. You get your bike from the garage and ride it down the quiet street. You decide to circle around and head to Edenbrook and get ready there, knowing you have a spare outfit in your outfit. Adrenaline spikes as you ride like the wind, the cool autumn breeze in your hair. After a good 30 minutes, you circle towards Edenbrook, deciding to get a head start on your shift.

Ethan’s PoV:-

Driving towards Edenbrook, you can’t help but think about yesterday with Arielle. The way her violet eyes lit up when she saw the drink you ordered or the way her cheeks turn pink from the cold breeze. “Stop it, Ramsey! The reason you come so early to the hospital is to make sure you have a moment of peace before the interns do something. You’re parking your car and getting out when you notice her. In a skin tight pair of leggings and a sports bra. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her without heels, she’s quite short without them. How she manages to stand in them is beyond your train of thought.

“What is she doing here so early?”, you wonder. You see her parking her bike against someone’s car and stretch. You can’t but stare at her, the morning sun hitting her luscious hair, making it shine. You snap out of it and head inside before she can see you...or anyone else for that matter.”

Arielle’s PoV:-

You enter the locker room and see Elijah. “Hey Elijah.”

“Hey Arielle.” He turns to look at you. “Woah! Where’d you do?”

“I went for a ride.” He gives you a look. “...on my bike. Give me ten, and then we’ll go check on Eliza.” You quickly take a shower and get dressed in a lightly cropped white top with a pair of pinstriped navy blue and white pants. Pulling on your white coat, you grab your things from the shower and go back to the locker room.

“Done?”

“Almost. Just hair and makeup.”, you reply.

“You know you look beautiful without it, right?”

“Nice try, Elijah. I would feel really bad for the patients who have to see my dark circles.”

“Yeah, your invisible ones.” You laugh and quickly get ready. Applying your usual amount of makeup, you brush down your hair and quick twist the sides and pin it against the back of your head to avoid hair in your face. “Done! Let’s go.” You head towards her room, going over her chart. After discussing her treatments, you exit the patient’s room with Elijah.

"Is it just me... or is the ground actually shaking?" Elijah asks confused. Hearing his question when you actually pay attention, even you can feel the floors vibrating.

"Uh, Elijah, does Boston get earthquakes?" you ask back. Looking at each other we are about to move forward when we turn back hearing commotion. A crowd of interns pass us running towards the atrium, talking amongst themselves. Seeing us at a side Landry approaches us.

"Guys, Dr. Ramsey is posting the rankings of second week!" He announces before moving that way. Seeing another group of interns coming in our direction, you take shelter in the nearest patient room, grabbing Elijah with me.

"What? Not excited to see the latest ranking?" Elijah grins at me.

"I'd rather not get Mufas'ad," you smile.

Once the coast is clear, you and Elijah get out of the room and move towards the elevator to get to the atrium, where the excited herd of interns are surrounding Dr. Ramsey, who just pinned the rankings to the board. "Can't you people exhibit a modicum bit of self-control. You work at Boston's best hospital for God's sake!" He pinches the bridge of his nose and walks away. You can't help but notice that he seems distant, it feels like he's barely acknowledging what's happening. He walks away, leaving us interns to check the rankings.

"You guys! I'm finally up to fifth!" Landry smiles proudly.

"I slipped to number...thirteen. Weak," Elijah sighs his voice low and sad.

"Ugh...seventeen. I knew this would happen," beside me Sienna slumps sadly. Poor girl, feels like she's going through a lot. I look towards her.

"Dr.Ramsey caught me crying in a supply closet yesterday. I've just had a lot of...sad cases recently," I see her eyes glistening with tears.

"Wanna talk about it?" You give her a side hug in an attempt to comfort her.

"No point wallowing. Just gotta smile my way through," she fakes a smile but you can clearly see her hesitation. After comforting Sienna for another moment you turn around to find Jackie standing silently looking at the ranking sheet . I follow her gaze to see that she's dropped to eleven.

"Eleven? Really?" She nods in disbelief.

"Number ten," Sienna smiles nudging me. You look at number ten to find your name. “From nineteenth to tenth, that's good.” Happiness washes over me. But after seeing my friends’ dropped positions, the small spark of joy vanishes. Hours after, I walk towards the staff lounge to take a break being tired for working for at least 4 hours without a break. As I near the elevator, I can hear faint sound of cries from somewhere near. On instinct I walk forward hearing the sound and it leads me to the nearest supply closet. I think for a moment whether or not to go inside. What if the person inside doesn't want me too see them like this? After giving it another thought I decide to get inside thinking what if the person wants someone to talk to. As I open the door, light rays enter the dark supply closet falling on a small figure and I run towards her as soon as I see it to be Sienna. "Hey, what's wrong?" I ask softly side-hugging her.

Leaning on my shoulder she sniffles. "I- I j-ust lo-st a pat-ien-t," somehow managing to say this she again starts sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, Si," you hug her more tightly.

"He didn't deserve it," she sniffles ,"He was just 14. He had a whole life to live."

"I understand Si," you try to comfort her, “But there's nothing you could've done." After comforting her for some more minutes and letting her know that it was not her fault, she stops crying. You have an idea.

"You've any patient to check on right now?" I ask after she's stopped sobbing and she nods in negative.

"Good. You're taking a break then. We are going to grab something to eat,"I say.

"But-" she tries to protest.

"No ifs or buts, you clearly need a break. You need to talk about this and somewhere which is not a supply closet," She hesitates at first but then agrees to it. You take her to the milkshake parlor to Bryce took you when you were down.

"You are going to love their shake!" You smile and say to Sienna whose mood is much better now. After ordering our shakes we take a sit in one of the booths near the window. We both order chocolate caramel milkshakes. "So you want to talk about it?" You ask her after taking a seat on the sofa opposite to her.

“I already did.”, she smiles sadly. “But I can’t help but feel that maybe I could have done more, something that would have saved him.”

“Si, you did all that you could. Sometimes things in life just don’t go the way they want to. What happened wasn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself for it.” She nods sadly.

“Thank you, Arielle.” You smile.

“What else are besties for?” The waiter serves up our order. We thank him and each take a sip from our milkshakes after I take a pic and post it.

“This is so good!”, Si exclaims happily.

“I know right. Bryce took me here a few weeks ago. It became my official favourite milkshake place.”, you exclaim. We both giggle like high schoolers.

“So...did you find out anything about Patient X?”, Si asks.

“No, I haven’t. I’m still trying but I haven’t found anything.”, you reply.

“Maybe it’s just some kind of case study?”, Si speculates.

“I don’t think so...I think it’s someone near to him. I don’t know if you noticed, but he seemed distant and out of it this whole week. Especially the day after the f.M.R.I testi”- you clasp your hands to your mouth, realised what you just spilled.

She looks at me smirking, “What f.M.R.I?”

“I-he” you stutter. “Dr. Ramsey-he”, you look her smirking. “Stop smirking!”

“Then you have to tell me everything!”, she exclaims.

“There’s nothing to say!”, you counter but you’re sure your cheeks gave you away.

“Sureeeee!”, she teases me.

“Tell me everything, and I mean everything. Do you hear me?”

“Fine!” You reluctantly start telling her what happened. roll my eyes, "Stop it Si! I was just helping him to check whether or not it works."

"Remember I went after him to update him about Mrs. Turner? " I ask and she nods. "I told him about the housewarming party and asked if he'd like to come-" Sienna smirks at this but you pretend not to notice. "Obviously he denied-" And you explain her how he asked for help to test the fmri machine.

"Wait! You are telling me you were standing half naked in front of Dr.Ramsey," her smirking face turned into a surprised but then again retreated back to the former one. "I bet he couldn't tear his eyes from you!"

"Sienna, he's a grown up. He'd obviously have the minimum amount self-control to not stare at his half-naked intern," you say.

"Mhmm, if you say so..." She motions with his hand for me to continue, " What did he ask you?"

“My middle name. That was his first question. Then he asked about my favourite childhood memory.”

“Yeah? Tell me too! I want to know how it was growing up in a luxurious mansion!”, she says excitedly.

“I told you about my godfather, remember? So when I was little, I would head to his lake house every Friday to spend time baking desserts and talking about life then. I would stay there until he had to drop me off at school Monday morning.”, you smile as you recall the fond memory.

“Aww! That’s adorable! What did he ask next?”, Si excitedly asks.

“He asked me about one of the happiest days of my life. I told him about the day my niece was born. He was surprised though.”

“You have a niece?! Why didn’t you tell me?! Ooh! What’s her name? Promise you’ll bring her one day!”, Si rambles.

“Okay okay! Calm down! Yes, I have a niece. Her name is Arabelle and she’s 4 years old. I do sometimes babysit her, so...we’ll see.”, you reply.

“So...what was his reply?”, she asks.

“He didn’t say anything. And that was the last of the questions. Then, somehow, while getting off, I managed to fall down. So when he entered the room, I was sprawled on the floor.”

“That’s all?”

“I showed him a pic of my niece.”

“Ooh! Show me!” You pull up the pic and show it to her.

“Aww! She looks adorable! And you look like a princess! What did he say?” You blush.

“He said that she’s cute.”

“Finally! A compliment from Dr. Terminator!” You laugh. “Did he say anything about you looking gorgeous?!”

“Si!” She giggles and soon you join in.

“Wait! You never told me what happened after you saw Dr. Ramsey st the baseball game.”, she says.

“Not much. I helped him close a deal for Edenbrook and then we just talked, ended up telling him why I wanted to be a doctor. Then it got late, so he dropped me off.” Her grin widens. “What?”

“Nothing!..”, she says in a singsong voice. You stare at her. “Well what, Ari! He invited you to a private box suite, he gave you a ride, and he asked you to help him test a machine. So...”

“What so.... There’s absolutely nothing! Now come on, I have a few patients to check on.” You both head back to the hospital. After your regular rounds, you go to check in on one of your newest patients, Remy. When you enter his room he is strumming on a guitar, singing softly with it. He smiles as you enter the room.

"What's up doc? You ready to let me out of here?" He grins.

"Well, that depends on what your lungs would say, Remy," you smile. "Any wheezing or coughing today?" You ask after going through his chart.

"Nope. I'm feeling one hundred percent!" Putting your stethoscope on, you listen to his breathing.

"It looks like you respiratory infection have cleared up. Let me check your vitals and then we can think about discharging you." You slip a blood pressure sleeve around his arm and pump it. “All your vitals look good. You’re about to get his discharge papers signed when you notice his calf covered in reddened nodules. “What happened?”

“Don’t know doc. But it itches though.”

“Well, it might be an indication of something else, I want to do a few more tests.”, you reply.

“Well if it makes you happy! My parents have sweet insurance so test, test, test away!” You laugh as you leave the room.

After ordering the test for Remy and a few check-in’s on your patients, you head towards the cafeteria to get a light lunch. You’re standing in line, deciding what to get when you notice Aurora standing in front of you, surrounded by her usual circle of suck-ups.

“Dr. Emery, can I get you a latté?”

“Dr. Emery, I’ll pay for your lunch.” You roll your eyes.

“What you can do is take a step back so your hair doesn’t go into my food.”, Aurora snipes. You decide on a garden wrap and head towards your usual table, where you find your friends.

“How is she still number one in the rankings?”, Jackie says.

“I know right. She barely spends time with her patients, literally ten minutes!”, Landry says.

“Does she solve the case?”, you ask.

Landry reluctantly says yes. “Well then, there’s your answer.”, you reply.

“Maybe Chief Emery’s rigging the competition. Or Dr. Ramsey favours her?”, Elijah says.

“Please, he doesn’t even know our names.”, Jackie scoffs.

“He knows Arielle. She even helped him with something. I saw both of them coming out of the new equipment room a few days ago.”, Landry says.

“I was just helping him test the new f.M.R.I machine.”, you reply. Sienna gives you a look. ‘If only they knew...’ You try not to blush.

“We should try to make a better impression on Dr. Ramsey, does he have office hours?”, Elijah asks.

“I don’t know if he has the time. He’s wrapped up on some secret case right now.”, you accidentally blurt out. They give you a look. “He dropped some CT scans and when I gave them back I saw the name as ‘Patient X’.”

“Whoa! Do you think he’s working on some cutting edge treatment?”, Elijah wonders.

“Ooh! It might be the President! Do you think he’ll tell us?”, Sienna rambles.

“Guys! We’re talking about Ethan Ramsey here. You do not want to get on his bad side.”, Landry says. You and your friends speculate on Dr. Ramsey’s case as you eat. Everyone says goodbye and splits, but you notice Jackie heading off without saying anything.

You head towards the ER for the next part of your shift

“Hey Jackie! Wait up!” She reluctantly stops and whirls around.

“What do you want?”, she snaps. You’re taken aback.

“Did I do something wrong?”, you ask.

“No. I’m mad at myself. I came here to be the best and right now I’m not. I can’t let whatever emotional thing you want to do distract me.”, she says. It hits you like a slap in the face.

“So you’re saying that our friendship is a distraction?”

“Yeah.”, she heads off.

After a short shift in the ER, you’re filling out charts at the nurses’ station.

“Hey there, had a rough day?” You look to see Bryce leaning against the station.

“You don’t know the half of it. What about you?”

“See this hand? It just touched a beating human heart.”

You smirk. You’re about to reply when you see Dr. Ramsey furtively looking over his shoulder and turning a corner. “I bet he’s going to see Patient X.”, you discreetly point towards Dr. Ramsey. His brows furrow in confusion. You fill him in on what you’ve learned so far. You’re about to follow him when you notice Ines and Zaid heading your way. “Shit! They’ll definitely stop me to ask about my patients. By the time they’re done, he’ll be long gone.

“I didn’t know you were so badass Elle. Following your boss?” You ignore him.

“Can you do me a favour”, you ask.

“Let me guess. It requires me distracting two doctors by the name of Ines and Zaid.”, he replies.

You give him your signature puppy dog eyes and pout, “Please?”

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re so adorable.” Giggling, you thank him and round the corner to the hospital’s new wing when you collide straight with Dr. Ramsey.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You can see Arielle following you as you head down the hallway. You decide to stop right at the end of a corner and wait. A few seconds later, a light force collides with your chest. She squeals. You look down to see her raking her perfectly manicured fingers through her long violet hair. “Why are you following me?”

“I wanted to ask how you’re doing.” You’re surprised.

“And what made you want to ask?”, you question.

“Working as an intern at this hospital has a lot of pressure and stress. I can’t imagine what level your’s would be.” Her baby pink lips melt into a smile. “Just because you’re a world class attending doesn’t mean that you’re immune to stress or people aren’t allowed to ask you if you’re okay.”, she replies. You feel the corners of your lips tug.

“I’ll be fine once I get a coffee. The coffee machine in my office is broken and you know I don’t drink the dishwater from the cafeteria. There’s a small cafe a few blocks away that I don’t hate.”, you reply.

She smirks, “Wow! An actual compliment from Ethan Ramsey. They should have you as an endorsement.” You give her an incredulous look. “You should swing by...”

“Are you saying I can come with you?”, she asks.

“No, but I won’t mind if you decide to follow me there too, though.” What the hell are you thinking, Ramsey! Are you flirting with an intern?!

“I could use some coffee.” You both walk towards Derry Roasters.

“The breeze is beautiful this time of season.”, she says flipping out her hair and letting it flow freely in the gentle breeze. “Have you ever been apple or pear picking this time of season?”

“Once or twice, I think.”

“Really? If I was your height, I would be picking things every chance I get. It’s quite annoying having to jump every single time to pick a pear.”, she says with a ridiculous tone. You laugh, something you haven’t done for many days.

“My family has a fruit orchard. Apples and pears are best picked this time around. My brothers usually pick all the fruit while I run around with my niece. I still try to pick a few though, it does get quite annoying though. That’s why I opt for strawberries, they’re much easier to pick. You can’t help but imagine Arielle and her adorable niece running around in the fall leaves, the warm sunlight shining on her face, making her striking violet eyes a touch of pink.

“Here we are.” You lead her inside and head towards the counter. “I’ll have the Vienna, she’ll have the... Fall Frappé.” She pulls out her wallet to pay but you gently lay a hand on her wrist, “I’m the one who invited you.” Pulling out your wallet, you pay the barista and sit down at a table.

“So... do you come here often?”

“I do. Sometimes I need a moment where nobody needs anything from me. Nobody recognises me nor gives a care.”, you reply nonchalantly.

“I know what you mean.” You’re about to contradict her when you notice the genuinely sorrowful look in her eyes. You change the subject.

“A good roast and a medical journal does wonders, but I didn’t bring one so I suppose you’ll have to entertain me.” Her eyes light up. A server arrives with your coffees. Her eyes widen with joy as she sees the obscene amount of chocolate syrup and marshmallows, with a vanilla flower and roll of cinnamon. “This is sooo pretty!”, she squeals ridiculously as she takes a picture. You won’t tell her you’ve seen her countless times order something with chocolate, the vanilla and cinnamon she would like because that was the scent of her body wash. She takes a sip, sighing with pleasure, “Delicious chocolatey goodness.”

“That’s not a word.”

“I don’t care.”, she says.

Suddenly her eyes widen. “How did you know that I liked chocolate?...”, she asks surprised.

“I observe, Rookie.”

“So you study me. Am I that interesting?”, she asks, smiling.

You scoff, “I observe everyone. As should you. In fact, that’s why I enjoy coming here. The clientele are quite intriguing.”

“Nah, I like to curl up on the couch, covered in a fuzzy blanket with a good romance novel and a nice mug of hot chocolate.” You wouldn’t expect anything else.

“The art of observation is important for a diagnostian.”

“Okay then, what else do you observe?”

“You see that woman there, with the cup of gelato?” She nods. “She’s waiting for someone.”

“How do you know?”, she asks.

“Look at her. She keeps on checking her phone and is taking very minute bites of her gelato.” Just then, a young man enters and walks up to the woman, kissing them on the cheek and sitting down.

“Very well, let me try.” She looks around and spots a young woman entering the cafe, hair in a breezy mess. Arielle’s lips form into a devilish smirk.

“There! That woman just got laid.” You blink in astonishment.

“She had sex. Look at her hair.”

“I’ve seen your hair looking like that at the end of your shift.”, you counter.

She giggles. You find it ridiculously cute. “Well I certainly wouldn’t wear a dress that scandalous to work,” She points to the tight sparkly minidress peeking underneath from her trench coat.

“Okay, you win that one.”

“Now... what else have you ‘observed’ about me?” You think about what to say.

“You’ve worked very hard to get where you are now. You’re somebody who is selfless and caring and always make sure your friends are always happy. If people you love or respect say anything about you, you take it to heart. Others, you don’t give a damn. You would go to any extent to help the people you love.You have an unconfronted past, but you’re looking to change that.” Her mouth falls open into a perfect circle. “Am I right?”

“You are.”, she replies.

“Now do me.” She coughs.

“You’re someone has faced many obstacles to get to where you are in life. The people you truly respect can be counted on one hand. You don’t give a damn about what other people think or say about you, nor let it affect you. You don’t bring your walls down for anybody. Right now, you’re lost.” How did she manage to...

“Lost? Whatever could you mean by that?”, you ask.

“You’re trapped in some kind of problem, not knowing what to do or where to go.”, she says.

You fake scoff, “You’re half right. In diagnostics, that means nothing.” Your gut churns as you flat-out lie to her. Your pager beeps.

“I have to go.”

“I think I’ll stay here for a few minutes. Thank you for the coffee, Dr. Ramsey.”, she gently smiles.

“You’re most welcome, Dr. Valentine.”

Arielle’s PoV:-

You decide to post the picture of the mouthwatering coffee. Sipping the rest of your now new favourite coffee, you caption it ‘Delicious Chocolatey Goodness!”, ignoring what Dr. Ramsey said about it not being a real word.

You reply to a few of the comments and head back to the hospital when your pager beeps. Heading towards the nurses’ station, you see Danny.

“Hey Danny, are the tests I ordered for Remy back?”

“Yeah. Here you go.” He hands me the file, going through it as you head to Remy’s room, you collide headfirst with a rock hard chest. You look up to see Rafael.

“I’m so sorry, Raf.”

“It’s okay, Arielle. What you got there?”

“I saw some markers for a genetic disorder, so I ordered a test. But it looks good so fa”- The words die on your lips, your face falling downcast as you read the last page.

He notices your face. “What’s wrong?”

“The test I ordered came clear, but there are some other markers that clearly point to another disease, he won’t be able to walk by the time he’s fifty. Surfing’s his whole life.” You look to him for help.

“I can’t make the decision for you Arielle. But sometimes telling the truth does more damage. Just keep in mind that no decision is wrong or right. It’s different in everyone’s eyes. I’ll wait for you here.”, he gestures to the door.

Taking a deep breath, you enter the room to find Remy strumming on his guitar. “What up doc, am I cleared to go?” You steel yourself.

“Remy, the tests came back. I’m afraid you have genetic markers for distal muscular distrophy.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you won’t be able to use your hands or legs at the age of fifty. The disease is quite a late onset, it starts by atrophying the muscles of the hands and legs. It only starts at the age of around 40. I’m so sorry, Remy.”

His face morphs into fury. “I didn’t even want you to do the stupid genetic test! Is this what you wanted, to ruin my life?!” He throws the guitar at you, you dodge just in time and exit. You look back and see him sobbing on the bed. Rafael comes over and engulfs you in a bear hug.

“Hey, it’s ok.” You nod and bury yourself into his chest for a few minutes. “Hey, what if I take you out for dinner?” You look at him.

“Hey, not as a date! Think of it as a friend trying to cheer you up with the best comfort food in town.” You laugh.

“Okay. I have to change though. We’ll drive back to my apartment, where I’ll drop my car and change, and then you can attempt to cheer me up.”

You drive back with him to your empty apartment. “So... where is everyone?”

“Jackie and Landry have night shifts, and Elijah and Sienna want to keep an eye on their post-op patient overnight. So it’s just me.”

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” You give him a little tour of the place, giving him a glass of lemonade to drink.

“ I bet this is your room.” He points to the master bedroom, decorated with a trio of blush, pearl and gold hues all over the room.

“It is.”, you laugh. He looks at all the pictures on the walls.

“Anyone who’s met you can guess this is your room. It’s filled with positive and meaningful quotes all over the walls.” You giggle.

“Now get dressed quickly, I’ll wait.”, he exits the room. You close the door and decide on a pair of comfy leggings with a flowy cold shoulder baby blue top. You grab a small crossbody purse and a nice jacket. Deciding to skip makeup, you quickly twist both sides of your hair and clip it back, giving an illusion of a half up, and head out.

“See...you look pretty. Now, let’s go. I’m hungry.” You walk with Raf, him guiding you on a busy street.

“So...where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He leads you down the street and suddenly turns your body to the right.

You see a beautiful little street lit up with lantern and fairy lights, outdoor tables set up for little shops and food carts along the way. “Wow! I wasn’t expecting a street market. It’s beautiful Raf.”

“Now, what are you craving?” You inhale the smell wafting in the air and deduce spices, particularly the ones Naveen would use when he made your favourite dinner.

“Indian.”

“Nice choice, follow me.” He leads you to a food truck and ushers you into a seat while he orders something. A few minutes later, he comes with two bowls filled with steaming jasmine rice and aromatic curry.

“You take a bowl from him and smell the delicious, mouthwatering scent. “Mm! That smells delicious.” Almost like the one Naveen makes, you think.

“Wait here.”, he goes back to the truck and gets drinks and spoons.

“Dig in!”, he says handing you the drink and spoon. You take a small bite and let the flavour dissolve on your tongue. You moan.

“It’s good, isn’t it.” You nod instead of replying, your mouth full of rice. He laughs. “Okay okay! I won’t disturb you. Eat in peace.” You both finish off your dinner in peaceful silence, taking solace of the beautiful view of the fairy lights against the night sky. Washing off your dinner with a special lemonade you say, “That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time. Thank you Raf.”

“Of course, Arielle. You’re my friend, don’t forget that.” He puts a hand around your shoulder and you head back to your apartment, talking about your favourite Indian dishes. You don’t even notice you arrive at your apartment cause you’re so tired. The only reason you were able to walk all this way was Raf helping you.

“We’re here.” You look up and blink.

“Oh, I’m so tired. Goodnight Rafael.” He gives you one last hug saying, “Goodnight, Arielle. Promise me you won’t beat yourself up about the decision you made.”

“I won’t.” You ride the elevator to the top floor and stumble into your apartment, locking the door. You fall asleep the minute you hit the bed. Waking up to the sound of loud intro music, you rub your eyes and head out to the living room. “Oh shit! I completely forgot tonight was movie night.”

“It’s okay Ari. Join us.” You see Elijah, Si, and Landry on the couch with popcorn and a few other snacks. “Where’s Jackie?” Landry points to her closed bedroom door. You knock on her door.

“Jackie? You in there?” You open the door to find medical textbooks scattered all over her bed. She looks up.

“Hey. Tonight’s movie night. Aren’t you coming?”

“No. I have to study.” You think about the various times in college you’ve put off meetings with friends to study.

“Good call.”

“I know. Close the door.” You slowly close the door, as sadness creeps up on you.

General PoV:-

Arielle slumps on the sofa between Elijah and Sienna. “So did anyone find out anything about Patient X?”, Elijah asks.

“No! I asked a bunch of residents and nurses, they thought I was joking.”, Landry says.

“I asked Danny, he didn’t know anything.”, Si says.

“So you asked Danny, huh?” Arielle gives her a knowing look as a slight blush creeps up on her face.

“They’re right. I checked all the patients’ records and there no ‘Patient X’ in the hospital.”, Elijah says.

“Okay, enough! Let’s start movie night!”, Sienna exclaims. All four of them bicker over what movie to watch and end up binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy. Arielle falls asleep again on the 3rd or 4th episode. A couple of hours later... Arielle wakes up to bright sunlight shining on her face. “Hmm....” She rolls of the sofa and onto the plush rug with a thud. After laying there for a few minutes, she gets up stretching her sore limbs and heads towards her room to get ready for the day. If only she knew nothing would have prepared her for what she was about to witness.

Arielle’s PoV:-

The first thing you do is check on Remy. You tentatively head towards to Remy’s room when he sees you and gestures for you to come in. “Hey Remy... how are you doing?”, you wince waiting for the reply.

“First of all doc, I want to apologise.” You look up in confusion.

“You’re a doctor and it isn’t your fault that this happened to me, it’s kinda your job to tell me.”

“I know Remy, but still...”

“I’m so sorry for lashing out at you, hell I acted like an ass.”

“I think I can excuse you for just this once.”, a smile blooms on your face. “But what made you change your mind?”

“If you hadn’t told me, I would have probably wasted a lot of time fooling around and doing idiotic things. Now that I know, I can make sure that I enjoy life and spend my time wisely. A lot of people don’t even know that they’re going to get sick, but I do. I should be grateful.” You smile saying, “That’s a poetic way of looking at life.”

“And... I wanted to thank you but didn’t know how. But luckily I came across something.” He pulls up his phone and shows a picture of you, a few years ago, strumming and singing with a guitar. He then pulls out his guitar and hands it to me. “Your voice is beautiful and way better then mine. This is way more useful for you.”

“Remy... I can’t possibly take this.”

“Well you have to. Think of it as a small price for the 20 years of life you gave me.” You accept the guitar and hand him his signed discharge papers. “Now go live your life.” You head towards the 4th floor for rounds, stopping at the locker room to safekeep the guitar that he gave you with a smile on his face.

Later you’re heading towards your next patient right before lunch when a gut feeling stops you in your tracks. “Wait, I followed Dr. Ramsey here yesterday... and the week before that too.” You remember what Elijah said, “They’re right. I checked all the patients’ records and there no ‘Patient X’ in the hospital.”

Following your gut, you enter the new wing under construction, stepping over the barricades. You go quite far into the corridor and peer into the halls but find nothing. You start to doubt yourself, “I might just be grasping at air here.” You decide to go a little further and notice a glow emitting from one of the newly constructed patient rooms. You peer into one the room to see someone lying in the patient’s bed, but you can’t see clearly who it is. You look beside the bed to see Dr. Ramsey, head in his hands. Taking a few steps closer, you make out the face lying in the bed. Naveen! Your heart stops. “No, no, no, no, no. There’s no way.” You try to deny it, but all of it makes sense. Why else would he quit his job. He can’t be sick, can he?”

“Before you can understand what’s going on, Naveen locks eyes with you. His eyes widen, his face morphing into utter shock. You’re frozen in place. You can see the pain in his eyes, the pain you caused. Your hearts beats way too fast. Your head is spinning. You don’t know what’s going on. It’s hard to breathe, hard to focus. So hard that you don’t even notice Dr. Ramsey looking at you. You don’t hear him shout, “Rookie!”. All you hear is the words you last said to your godfather, the ones that broke your inseparable bond and the ones that broke his heart.

Everything goes black.