#she told me after it was very hard to try and behave and stick to her rules and not go to my hotel room with me

[bigothteddies]

anyways now that 12 hours and passed and I’ve slept, a little bit better of a summary: (also I think I’m gonna start referring to her as Princess when I talk about her on here cause her some of her old url’s have had princess in it and it’s one of the pet names I use most often for her)

I did end up getting to see her !! She drove down like she said she would and met me in a parking lot next to the beach. She drove us out for some food and took my In-N-Out virginity and it was fun! We then went back and ended up hanging out on the beach for the rest of the time until we walked back to her car and delayed saying goodbye until she had to leave 💔. Short and sweet visit! Umm nothing really happened we didn’t get kiss we didn’t go back go back to my hotel room or anything hands never ended up between any legs ! But it was still really fun, she was really adorable IRL and had such a playful personality. We flirted a lot and I definitely teased too much! Ended up with my thumb in her mouth at one point and *might* have gently tugged on her hair at one point when she was bein bratty so there was definitely some fun tension between us 🥰 All in all I’m really happy I saw her ! She says she’d love to see me again so hopefully that’ll happen I just don’t know when

[starwarsmum]

Maribat Mix & Match Monster Mash day 3, Oh Bite Me and Wings!

Dick Grayson hated attending galas. Parties, sure, but galas? Where tons of stuffy, elitist snobs looked down on him because he was a circus kid? Yeah, give him patrol any day.

He stood in the hallway outside his room, fiddling with the cape of his costume and playing with the artificial fangs and their adhesive. He had decided to go as a vampire, almost as an inside joke given Bruce’s other moniker.

“Master Dick, I hope that you are going to behave this evening,” Alfred said, preparing for a quiet evening whilst they were at the gala. Dick looked away guiltily, not wanting to promise anything he knew he wasn't going to stick to. After a few moments, Alfred sighed but said nothing more on it.

“So, what do you think of my costume? I wanted to get one that was more Dracula, but they didn't have any in my size,” Dick complained, pouting up at his kind-of grandfather. Alfred told him it looked ‘dashing’ and Dick grinned, pleased. Now that he was seventeen, he was much more invested in looking good to the boys and girls his own age. 

“Ah, good, you're ready to go.” Bruce appeared, wearing a pair of blue overalls and a red shirt. Dick didn't think he even knew who Mario was, but apparently that wasn't going to stop the man. “Come on, my old friend from school has insisted that we be only marginally late.”

“And when do we get to ditch?” Dick asked, thinking about all the different things that would be happening on the streets that night. He grinned at Bruce when he scowled and followed him out to the car a few minutes later.

Arriving at the party, Dick took his earliest chance to split off from Bruce. He didn't want the older man cramping his style when he talked to the people closer to his own age. He strolled around eagerly, but quickly lost his enthusiasm as he spotted very few teenagers. 

“No problem,” he replied, his voice becoming low and unhurried. He hadn't met this girl at one of these parties before so he wanted to make a good first impression. She raised an eyebrow at him, her stutter disappearing as he flashed a flirtatious look at her. “I don't think I've seen you at one of these parties before.”

His shoulders were just beginning to slouch when someone crashed into him. She exclaimed and he automatically put his hands out to steady her. They brushed against something soft and feathery and he took a moment to look over her outfit.

Unlike what he expected, she was wearing a black glittery dress and combat boots. The wings on her back were pure black and felt so real that he had a hard time not running his hands up her back to see where they melded with her skin. When they were both stable, she looked up at him with a stuttered apology and he was looking into a pair of gorgeous blue eyes, framed by black hair. 

“Wow, what next? Do I come here often?” The girl was clearly unimpressed and Dick felt himself flush a little, although his charming grin remained intact. “You need to work on your pickup lines, mister, because I've heard all of them before.”

“All of them?” Dick asked with an eyebrow raised. She gave him a dead eyed stare and he winced. “Right, okay, sure. I can get creative. Would you mind giving me a pinch? Because I have to be dreaming since you're so cute.”

“I'm not sure a pinch would cut it,” the girl said, leaning against the table next to them. Dick tried not to grin too much, but she clearly wasn't too bothered by him trying. “Tell me, do you just try lines on anyone who comes to these things?”

“Why, jealous?” He leaned towards her, noting that her face held mostly amusement with a tinge of exasperation. Whoever tried so many pick up lines on her before must have been a friend, he decided. “You don't need to be, I promise I'm only looking at you right now. So, are your parents bakers? Because you're a cutie pie.”

The girl was clearly struggling not to laugh which gave Dick a warm feeling that spread through his entire body. She lost the battle and a giggle escaped past her lips.

“Okay, look, that's not because it's a good line,” she said once she'd gotten the giggles under control. “I'm only laughing because my parents are bakers and there was no possible way for you to know it.”

“Hey, I'll take it,” Dick said, shrugging even as he grinned widely at her. She shot him a mock glare but still didn't tell him to leave. They stood in silence for a few moments before the girl pushed away from the table.

“I'm Marinette, by the way. And I promised my uncle that I'd do the haunted house, so as interesting as this has been, I'm going to go. Have a fun party,” she said. She started to step away and Dick felt an overwhelming disappointment and darted in front of her instinctively.

“I mean, I haven't done that either, if you'd be okay with company? It looks kind of scary and-”

“Oh, let me guess, you want to be available in case I need someone to cling to?” Marinette snapped back, any trace of amusement gone and a disapproving scowl on her face.

“Oh, hell no, I need someone to make sure I get through without turning into a big mess,” Dick said immediately and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “And lucky me, you just said you were going in! Take pity on this scaredy cat and go with me?”

“Fine, but only because I have a soft spot for cats,” she said with a smile that told him there was a story behind that. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dick grinned at her and followed along behind as she made her way across the room to the haunted house.

“You're not going to hold my hand?” He asked, giving her sad puppy er, kitten eyes. She rolled her eyes but held her hand out to him. It felt like a victory and he intertwined their fingers, feeling giddy when she didn't pull away immediately.

Walking through the haunted house was fun, Dick jumping almost as often as Marinette. They laughed every time one of them was spooked by an animatronic. The owner of the home clearly liked crocodiles because there were sinister and realistic looking fakes throughout.

When they finally reached the last room, it was dark and the soundtrack was ominously silent with the occasional sound of something large swishing, like a reptilian tail. Dick was on high alert as they looked for the exit and spotted another animatronic blocking what he assumed must be it. 

“Wow, that looks so life-like! And the soundtrack is so well done, it almost sounds like the thing is breathing,” Dick said excitedly. When it stopped moving, he assumed it must be motion activated and stepped closer to it. 

He frowned when it didn't move, wondering if it was broken. Marinette didn't step any closer, inspecting something else and he turned back to say something to her as he reached out for it.

When something clamped over his arm, he screamed and tried to jerk it away. There was suddenly a lot of activity around him, Marinette leaping to his side and saying something in a stern voice. He looked down and could just make out the shape of the clearly not animatronic crocodile that was latched onto him.

Dick would love to say that he was calm, cool and impressed Marinette with his chill demeanour, but he would be lying. He was pretty sure he was in hysterics when someone in fairly impressive zombie makeup burst into the room from the exit that was behind the crocodile.

“Fang, mate, let the kid go!” The man sounded almost amused as he took in the situation. He turned back to his companion and Dick would have groaned in mortification that Bruce was witnessing such a total meltdown if he wasn't, well, having a meltdown.

“I have tried to make him let go, Uncle J, but I think he's having too much fun,” Marinette said, looking concerned. “I think I'm going to need to move him physically, can you make sure my friend here doesn't move too much?”

Dick gave another shout as Marinette stuck her fingers into the corners of the crocodile's mouth. But instead of losing said fingers, she continued to scold the creature until it reluctantly released him. The moment its mouth was wide enough, Bruce and the zombie yanked him out of the way.

“Fang, that was a mean thing to do,” Marinette said, sitting with the crocodile's head in her lap, patting it. “I'm sorry, he's very playful and when you screamed he thought you were playing along. He's harmless, really, I don't think he even ripped your costume. But, erm, perhaps we should get you a drink and a chair.”

Several minutes later, Dick was breathing normally and blushing bright red as Bruce and the zombie laughed about how successful the haunted house was. Marinette gave him a sympathetic look and patted his hand consolingly.

“I'm sorry he frightened you, Fang is very mischievous,” she said lightly. Now that he was out of the dark room and there wasn't a crocodile hanging off his arm, Dick felt like an idiot. He was in a presumably affluent man's home, he wasn't going to open himself up to a lawsuit by having something dangerous in his haunted house.

“I told you I needed someone to walk me through,” he said, but his tone wasn't quite flirtatious enough to be light hearted. But, miracle of miracles, it made her laugh even though she groaned at the same time.

“Do you ever give up?” She asked, swatting him on the arm closest to her. He shook his head and grinned, tentatively hopeful that he hadn't completely blown it. “You are unbelievable, vampire boy.”

“All good, mate?” The zombie said, looking between the pair with an eyebrow raised. Dick started when he looked up at the man and realised that he recognised him. He spluttered something incoherent, pointing at Jagged Stone and then turning with a wounded face to Bruce.

“How could you not tell me that we were going to a Jagged Stone party?” He screeched, rightfully betrayed. The betrayal cut deeper when Bruce had the audacity to laugh at him. “No, really, how did you even get invited to this?”

“You don't remember me saying that this was a party at one of my old school friend's house?” Bruce said, amused. Jagged cackled and Dick blushed again, feeling slightly mutinous.

“No, I remember you saying that we had a gala invite! You are officially the worst person I have ever met. I can't believe I had to have my arm almost bitten off before you introduced me to my rock hero.”

“I had to call it a gala on the invite or half of the people here wouldn't have shown up,” Jagged said, still smirking. “Besides, Fang would never! He's too rock n roll to hurt a kid without a reason, he's just…excitable.”

“And I would have introduced you when we arrived, but you vanished shockingly quickly,” Bruce added, still grinning. “But, just so you can't say I didn't do it; Jagged, this is my ward Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my old classmate and childhood friend Jagged Stone.”

“...your name is Dick?” Marinette said, sounding confused. He startled, staring at her blankly for a moment and running through their entire evening and conversations, wondering how on earth he had managed to forget to introduce himself.

“It's short for Richard?” He said at last, his blush returning full force. Bruce was shaking his head exasperatedly but took pity on the boy and suggested to Jagged that they go and refresh their drinks. Once they were gone, Dick turned back to her miserably. “I'm so sorry, I can't believe I didn't introduce myself.”

“It's fine,” Marinette said, grinning at him. “I didn't realise you were serious about the scaredy cat thing, I thought it was just a line.”

“Ah, well, full disclosure, it was meant to be,” he said, cringing slightly but trying to smile back at her with his usual charm. “But thanks for protecting me anyway.”

As she gave an adorable giggle, Dick felt his embarrassment melt away. And when the night ended, he left with her number.

[allthewriteplaces]

Magnolia In May: Chapter Fourteen

Author's Note: Finally on time again for once. Sorry I haven't been posting much lately. I've been going through a lot with the loss of my dog and it's been hard getting back into the swing of things, but I promise you I will try my best to continue this story for you all. Thanks for sticking around.

Chapter Summary: Life has been going smoothly so far at Lizzie's place, but one phone call is about to change everything.

Chapter Warning(s): None, really.

Word Count: 3727

Chapter Fourteen

“I don’t know, I think I’m going to win again.”

That night, Lizzie, Charlie, Ruby and I sat in the living room playing a board game. The nice weather didn’t stay for long, as predicted, and an army of heavy clouds charged toward us, bringing with it rumbles of thunder that made the house tremble in fear. Ruby wasn’t fond of thunderstorms, so she had made her way downstairs as Lizzie and I were sitting in the living room drinking tea and when she asked if she could stay up with us, we couldn’t say no. Eventually, Charlie sensed what was going on and once he was up, Lizzie figured there was one thing to do, and that was to wait for the storm to pass, playing games and making shadow puppets on the walls.

They’d taken a nap just before dinner, so they weren’t exactly tired, unlike the two of us. Lizzie had been writing in her spare time, and that took a lot of mental energy and concentration, much like the meeting they’d had earlier.

“I swear, we were talking about having or not having balloons, they were inches away from tearing each other to pieces,” Lizzie had said earlier that afternoon with a soft chuckle. It was after the rest of the family left and we were tidying things up, putting things back in order. “Luckily they didn’t, because Polly talked some sense into them — I swear, she has more of that then most of the people in that room, and Aberama was ready to step in and separate the two of them if things got ugly.”

“Arguing over balloons?” I responded, not sure why something as insignificant as that would cause such an uproar. “You’d think they were behaving like children instead of grown adults.”

“Exactly. Polly told them that the children, who are much younger, were behaving better than they were and Ada and I couldn’t help smiling.”

I could see her massaging her temple with her fingers now and then and going back to playing the game, pretending that the headache was nothing at all. Sometimes I would ask her if she wanted me to get her a cold compress. That usually worked for me when I had a headache.

“No fair!” said Charlie.

“How do you keep winning, Mummy?” asked Ruby, equally surprised.

“I guess it’s just my lucky night,” she answered, looking at the three of us with a satisfied grin on her face.

Just then, the telephone rang. At once, both of the kids ran over to it. Both of their parents had instructed them not to answer the door to anyone unless it was either of them or her aunts and uncles, but with the phone, they were told to wait until an adult could pick up the phone. Lizzie stood up and trotted over. The train of her nightgown floated behind her. She picked it up and while holding it to her ear, she uttered an uncertain ‘Hello?’

I looked at the clock. It was a little past nine. Normally, on school nights, Thomas called a little earlier so that they could go to sleep, but tonight was Friday and Lizzie always let them stay up on Friday nights. This was the time he normally called, but instead of the relieved smile I would usually see once she heard his voice on the other end. Instead, there was a very long and intense silence.

“Mummy?” Ruby whispered, but her mother calmly shushed her.

“Hold on a moment,” she said into the phone and placed it upside down on the coffee table. “Charlie, you and Ruby stay downstairs with Jessie. Don’t pick up the phone, and don’t come up the stairs, do you hear me?”

Charlie nodded and then sat down on the couch. Ruby did the same.

“Mummy?” she asked, looking between the two of us.

“Sweetheart, I promise I will tell you everything, but you have to promise me you’ll do as you’re told.”

“I promise,” she said, her bottom lip trembled and she squeezed her eyes shut and her mother kissed the top of her head. As I saw her hurriedly kiss the top of her head, and rush up the stairs and to the telephone in her own office, all of a sudden, I felt the ground crumble beneath me. I felt too weak to stand, so I sat down on the couch between the kids, trying to remain strong in order to make them feel less scared. I didn’t touch the phone, either, even though I was this close to doing so.

“Is everything okay?” asked Charlie. He could tell something was wrong the second his mother left the room. I looked down, not wanting to say anything until we knew for certain what was going on, but at the same time, he looked so worried.

“I’m not sure, Charlie,” I answered and wrapped my arm around his shoulder as he laid his head on my chest. Ruby sniffled and I brought her close to me, too. “But whatever it is, we have to be strong, alright? For your mum, for me, and for each other.”

So we sat there for a few minutes, holding onto one another, until Lizzie came down and silently sat down on the other side of Charlie. They both glanced up at her and she looked back at them with an expression I had never seen her wear before.

“Charlie, Ruby,” she said slowly and she took a deep breath. “I just got off the phone with the doctor and he shared with me some news.”

Neither of them said a word, but I could see the gears turning in their minds. I could see them putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Charlie was the one to eventually cut through the silence, whispering one word under his breath.

“Dad.”

“Yes.” Lizzie’s voice trembled. She looked down at her hands resting on her lap, then she noticed Charlie’s eyes becoming misty as his gaze focused on something far, far away from the four walls of his bedroom. I grew more concerned when I noticed how dreadfully pale his face became. She brought him close to her and kissed the top of his head and held onto him for a long time, rocking him back and forth while glancing over his shoulder at Ruby and I.

“Did the doctor say what happened?” I attempted to keep my own voice steady.

She nodded subtly, but she didn’t answer the question right away. I figured that if she was this worried, if it took her a moment to gather her thoughts and feelings and find a way to answer without going into too much detail, if even the children could pick up on her anxiety, then it must be serious. All of my worst fears immediately came to light, and all I could think about was What if.

“Well, it was hard for me to get an explanation because even the doctor didn’t even know what happened, but my guess is that he had a run in with some of his enemies, and they weren’t too thrilled to see him, and knowing Tommy, he tried to fight them off. He did tell me that he’s badly hurt and that he will have to stay in the hospital for a week.”

“A week?” Charlie echoed, lifting his head up and Lizzie nodded, smoothing out his hair. “What if he can’t make it in time for his birthday?”

“Then we will just have to wait until he comes home, eh?” she answered. She reached over and brushed a finger along Ruby’s cheek. “We’ll have a big birthday party for him, the whole family will be there, and it will be so much fun.”

Usually, this would reassure them, but I could sense that even though they smiled and that they changed the subject to something else while they were helping to put away the pieces of the game, moments after, as I tucked them in and was just about to blow out the candle, Ruby turned over in bed and in the warm light, I could see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Jessie?” she said in a soft voice, almost too soft for me to hear her.

“What is it, my love?”

“Is Daddy going to die?” Her breath caught in her throat and I paused. Charlie must have been thinking the exact same thing, because now he was sitting up and looking as though he were about to cry, too. I would be lying if I said that the thought hadn’t crossed mine and Lizzie’s mind as well, but neither of us wanted to worry them even more than they already were.

Exhaling through my nose, trying to keep my own emotions and worries at bay, I sat at the end of her bed and rubbed her back soothingly while addressing them. These kids were as smart as their parents, they could pick up the subtlest hint of worry, as it was made obvious downstairs when they saw their mum on the phone, so I knew that there was no point in sugarcoating things or trying to make it seem like everything was going to be okay, when I wasn’t sure.

“We don’t know, sweetheart, but I do know for a fact your daddy is the strongest, and bravest man in the whole world, and that the doctors are taking really good care of your dad. He will know what to do, and if there’s anything we need to worry about, he will call us on the telephone and let us know.”

“Can we go and see him?” asked Charlie, pulling the sheets back.

“It’s much too late to go now. Besides, he’s probably sleeping, but your mum said that if you promise to go to sleep, too, then maybe we can go and see him tomorrow.”

With a relieved smile, he burrowed back under the covers and laid his head against his pillow, feeling all the worry slip away, at least for the time being. I adjusted his covers and kissed the top of his head before doing the same with Ruby. She was just starting to relax enough that her eyes were getting droopy. I blew out the candle softly and when I eventually felt like it was a good time to leave the room, I listened for any sounds of thunder, but all that seemed to remain was the sound of the rain tapping rhythmically on the roof and window. It was almost reassuring, as if it was trying to tell me that things were actually going to be alright.

******

Lessons for the next morning were cancelled, I telephoned Mister Collins a few hours before he would normally be scheduled to arrive and explained the situation to him. Fortunately, he lived less than an hour away from Arrow House and it wouldn’t take him that much longer to get to Lizzie’s estate, but still, it would have been rude to not inform him of said change in schedule in advance. While we were speaking, he did his best to reassure me that Mister Shelby — whilst speaking of our employer as well as anyone within the family, we always referred to them by the title in which they preferred — would be as right as rain in no time, but told me to wish him a speedy recovery on his behalf anyhow. He also wanted me to wish the children, who he also called Mister and Miss Shelby all the best.

As I’ve said before, we all loved Mister Collins. He was a kindly, considerate and patient man. He was never strict with them, and if they needed extra help in a subject, he never lost patience with them and made sure they understood it well enough before moving onto something else. They also both had their strengths. Charlie had become an expert in fractions, and could already multiply by twos, tens and fives, and Ruby was quite clever when it came to spelling.

But be as it may, the summer holidays were just around the corner and they were excited that there would be no more lessons until the autumn. However, they insisted that Miss Milligan still come every week to help them with their music. The children had progressed really well. Charlie had gotten the hang of a few songs, though we always needed to make sure that his strings were properly tuned and that the bow had enough rosin on it, not too much, not too little. Ruby was now able to use two hands to play the piano, and had learned a song that her dad loved. She wasn’t able to read sheet music like most children, she only needed to hear the song and then play the right notes.

Lizzie made several calls to the rest of the family to explain what had happened and then was on the telephone with the doctor, letting him know when we would be coming in to see Thomas. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, nor did it feel right for me to eavesdrop, but I hoped and prayed that his condition had improved.

Eventually, she came back and sat down at the head of the table. Her eyes were gritty, like she didn’t get any sleep at all. I couldn’t imagine that I looked much better or that I blamed her. I spent a majority of the night and most of the early morning tossing and turning, unable to stop myself from imagining the worst case scenario: the whole family gathered in the hospital, some kneeling by the bed weeping and sobbing, the children begging their father to come back to them, and him just laying there motionless and lifeless with his eyes closed and more than once this fear made me too scared to even close my eyes.

For a while, the only sound that could be heard was the sound of cutlery scraping against the plates, until I spoke.

“What did the others say when you told them?” I asked.

“Understandably, they were all worried. Some of them wondered why they weren’t called before I was, but I said that Tommy had me listed as his emergency contact, which meant of course they would call me first if anything was wrong.”

“They’ll all go in and see him?”

“That’s what they said. I said we’re going in at noon and we’ll stay for a bit, then Ada and Ben will be going in at two, Arthur and Linda at five, and Polly said she’ll see him later on in the evening.”

“That way he’s not too overwhelmed?”

“Exactly, and then I’ll give the doctors their numbers in case something goes wrong.” Then she turned to the kids and lowered her voice a bit. “So when we go and see Daddy, we need to use our inside voices, okay?”

“Because he’ll be tired?” asked Charlie and she nodded.

“Yes, when you’re hurt like that you feel tired and sick.”

“Can we give him our drawings?” He proudly held up a sketch that he drew on paper, describing to us what was on it, like an artist of a museum explaining his piece as it was unveiled. “See? That’s dad, that’s you, that’s Ruby and that’s Jessie. I was going to give it to him for his birthday, but I think it might help him feel better.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Charlie,” I said, smiling warmly at him. “Your dad is going to love it.”

“Wait! I need to finish the drawing I made!” said Ruby.

“Finish your breakfast first, darling, then you can go, alright? Besides, we’re not in any hurry to leave.” She placed a hand on her back and rubbed it soothingly, something I knew to calm her down. Reluctantly, Ruby nodded and then sat back down in her chair, picking up her fork and knife. She still had some food left on her plate, so she ate what she could. I couldn’t imagine any of us had much of an appetite, but I didn’t want them to be too hungry later on as we had a considerably long drive ahead of us. When she did eventually finish, she looked to her mother for permission to leave the breakfast table. By the looks of it, she’d finished eating so her mother gave her the okay to leave and sliding out of her chair, she hurried up the stairs. Charlie went after her and Lizzie and I started cleaning up.

Thomas had hired a cook and a maid for her when the divorce was finalised and she’d moved out of Arrow House, but I’d only ever seen them come in yesterday when we were having all of the family over. Most of the time, she preferred to do things her own way. She said that it helped her feel more independent and more in control of her own situation, as much as she appreciated the extra help now and again.

I put on some gloves and then filled the sink up with hot water and soap, watching the plate become cleaner and shinier as I scrubbed all the accumulated crud off with a sponge.

“Are you sure you don’t mind cleaning those?” she asked, “I know that it’s not a pleasant job, especially when food sticks to the plate and gets all soggy.”

“You’re right about that. I’ll be honest, I never liked doing the dishes as a kid, when it was my turn to do them, I used to come up with all sorts of excuses to avoid it, because like you said, all the soggy food can be unpleasant, but being a grown-up comes with all sorts of challenges and sometimes you can’t be afraid of getting your hands dirty.”

Joking around was the only thing we can think of to get our minds off of everything, but the relief only lasted a short while. Her smile flickered away and the crinkles in her forehead began to show themselves.

“I barely slept all night,” she said, wiping a hand *across her forehead and looking down at the water in the sink. It was becoming less and less clear and more sudsy. “Actually, I haven’t slept since the day he left. All I am able to do is lay there, tossing and turning and flipping my pillow over and over again and I keep thinking, ‘What if he dies tonight and I’m not with him? What am I going to tell the kids who love their father more than anything in the world? How am I going to tell his aunt and siblings?’ Just that dread is enough to…..”

I remained silent for a moment, allowing her to vent her feelings to me without interruption.

“Of course that’s always been my greatest fear. Even before we started seeing each other, I always wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew, if he was messing with the wrong people.” She leaned back against the counter and rubbed a hand across her face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be pinning this all on you. You’re not a doctor. It’s not your job to fix me.”

“Don’t apologise for letting yourself feel things, I understand you’re worried. I am, too.” I turned around, wanting to put one of my hands on her shoulder as a sign of comfort, but it would probably not be a good idea with my soapy hands. “But the doctor is doing everything that he possibly can to help him feel better, and seeing the three of you will definitely cheer him up.”

“Four,” she corrected. “You’re part of this family now, too, you know.”

Just as I was about to reply, the kids came thundering back down the stairs.

“Mummy! Do you wanna see my drawing?” Ruby asked, hiding the paper behind her back. She was waiting for us to answer her.

“Of course I would, lovey,” she answered and then gasped when Ruby revealed her art piece, holding it up the same way Charlie held his drawing up earlier.

“It’s Daddy and I having a tea party, like he did when I was little.”

“I’m sure he’s going to love it!” I told her.

“Do you want me to carry it out to the car?” asked Lizzie and Ruby nodded, handing the picture to Lizzie. Charlie did the same. “And you wrote your names on them so he knows who drew what drawing. Well done!”

Lizzie tucked both pictures under her arm while being careful not to crinkle them. Charlie followed her into the hallway and turned the doorknob. I walked behind them and held his hand as the four of us walked down the steps.

“Can we take the caravan, Mummy?” Ruby inquired.

“Hmm…” I looked up at the sky. It had turned a depressing shade of grey, and I could have sworn I felt a raindrop landing on the tip of my nose. “It looks like it might rain and the ground is a bit too muddy from the rain the other day. The wheels might get stuck.”

“Maybe when it’s nicer outside we can take it out again,” Lizzie added. She opened the car door and the kids climbed up into the back row.

“Like the time we went on a picnic with Daddy and Jessie,” said Ruby, getting situated in her seat and then buckling her seatbelt.

“A picnic? And you didn’t invite me?” Lizzie exclaimed, pretending to be hurt and turning around in the driver’s seat to face them, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Mum, are you really crying?” said Charlie, genuinely concerned, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure whether or not she was actually offended by not being invited to the picnic.

“No, I’m not crying,” she assured him, chuckling softly. “I’m sure you had a really good time with your dad and Jessie.”

“We did. Jessie was drawing kitty cats and then Daddy pretended to be a cat,” said Ruby, giggling at the memory. “Do you remember that, Jessie?”

“How could I possibly forget?” I replied, smiling at her and then turning to look out the window as the car pulled out of the driveway and onto the road and the rest of their conversation floated around me.

To be continued!

Taglist: @runnning-outof-time @zablife @sherbitdibdab @izabesworld @cillmequick

[foster-the-world]

And we are off

My husband has the kids at a state nature preserve while I packed and cleaned up the house. All done and enjoying twenty glorious minutes alone on the couch. My Aunt/Uncle, cousin and their two friends are staying while we are gone. NYC rent is too expensive to leave this place empty. My Aunt is so excited. She's had a rough year so I'm glad she'll will get some fun in.

I cannot wait to be swimming at the hotel pool tmrw. For some reason I'm feeling confident about baby boy flying. The flight to California was a true disaster but I think we've figured it out now. Fingers crossed I'm not in denial.

My husband's boss is leaving. They immediately offered him the position. He doesn't really want to take it. Its a big pay raise but will be longer hours at work. He would still be able to leave the office at 5pm but would be up after the kids go to bed working. There is no part of me that feels like either of us have more hours to spare. Baby boy is really draining all of our energy and its still very unclear what supports he will need in the future. At the same time, it will be hard to turn down the extra pay. He is very lucky to get a full pension based on his three highest years pay (thank you govt work in a liberal state). He can retire at 57 - so its not money just for the next few years but for the next 30 + years. I mean this most likely won't be his last promotion but every step upward counts. If he passes away the pension passes to me. Current employees don't get these benefits - he got in right before they changed the rules. He's been there 20 years now. He/we will have the entire vacation to think about it. Nice either way that they offered it to him. He's also had this amazing boss forever. I'm warning him how miserable his life can get if he gets a bad boss.

Baby boys been behaving very well for the past two days. Maybe he's maturing?? Maybe he just has good and bad days?? He is so damn cute. Last night I told him I was taking the girls somewhere. He goes "Oh, okay. You go Japan???" HA! HA! No kid. The next trip to Japan you are coming.

The girls begged to have a pedicure before vacation. I took them last night. Said it was a treat for doing so well in school. Very cute/fun. Bee is so much more girly then I am.

Foster agency is sticking to making us be re-certified. I can't think about it until we are back. Of course, no one has given us an adoption date so no idea when we need to get the trainings over with. Such a massive waste of time.

Baby boys therapies need to be switched from Department of Health to Dept of Education now that he turned three. After a month of pestering, they sent me a list of over 200 evaluation places throughout the city. I called over 20. None have evaluation appts before October. I put us on all of the waiting lists. Will probably try to pay out of pocket for OT, PT, etc until he is adopted and he can go on our private insurance. Its unGodly expensive. Need to figure out what services will help him. A little lost honestly. Weight vests, weighted blankets, crash pads, sensory toys, brush techniques? Will these things help him?? Do we have room for those things (=No). Need to start videoing when he's really unregulated. One-on-one in an OT office is not going to show what we are talking about. Of course, the foster agency doesn't bother responding to my emails related to any of these services. The medical lady used to be the one consistently competent person at the agency. She moved on and of course the new person is useless.

[brotherslayer]

what do you think of reynold eckart? since he is slowly developing better, do you think he's still worthy of forgiveness ?

I stick to my original opinion x. His "redemption arc" already started out on the wrong foot. It can't get better because as so to speak the foundation is already laid out wrong. Reynold is only behaving that way because Cha Siyeon is acting like a "good" victim and being calm and polite in literal unimagineable circumstances. If she had been a "bad" victim and he had been confronted with the ugly sides of recovery and her relapses, would he have made an effort to understand and help her? The Eckarts only know how to thrown money at a problem. I've never seen them do emotional labor. How is he developing better? Explain it to me so I can understand. To me it doesn't look like he is trying hard enough to become a better man. He doesn't attempt to spend time with her. Inviting her over to tea to talk about each other's day would be a nice start. If he isn't good at talking activities like riding together or visiting the theatre/opera would have been good enough. Anything that shows him he is interested in her. Stop. Buying. Her. Forgiveness. He could be trying to find out her hobbies or what kind things bring her joy now (since it has become apparent that her tastes have changed). Right now Reynold doesn't do anything about the ugly rumors that still persist, he doesn't introduce her to his friends and distant relatives. Shouldn't he help in clearing her name and make connections. Friends? She needs someone besides her family. Isn't it selfish of them to deny her that connection, especially now that the Eckarts know she didn't lash out unprovoked at others? He wants to be forgiven without having to sacrifice anything meaningful. A friendly gesture towards Iklies would have been a friendly gesture towards her. But he, they still feel threatened by the idea that Penelope could be more friendly with others than them.

An apology is the bare minimum, but he didn't apologize genuinely, non-defensively, responsibly. He did not take responsibility for the damage he caused. Reynolds apology is bad because he discounts and dismisses the injury and most often than not defends or minimizes what he did.

the classic “yes…but,” blame-deflecting apology:

chapter 44

chapter 87

chapter 52

I believe this is the only time where he actually says sorry.

What is wrong here?

Well, for starters at first the way he delivered it. Reynold is mumbling it barely audible while passing her on the training grounds. Penelope has to ask him to repeat himself to even hear it. His apology is unspecific. What is he apologizing for? He says it's for speaking harshly. No, that's obviously not what he actually meant. Reynold isn't even admitting his mistakes and stating precisely how he hurt her. He isn't encouraging her to share her pain, doesn't give her the feeling that he is safe to talk to and willing to listen to her complaints with an open heart.

Second, he assumes that he possesses the right to be forgiven, even expected to be forgiven and third that he, after lowering himself to this point, deserved to get a sorry from the injured party for being reasonably upset at the injury that he caused. He thinks that their offenses are equally wrong. “I’m sorry I did something wrong but you’re no Mother Theresa either." About time you apologized, says the offender” Lastly, before or after admitting a wrong he always puts part of the blame on another, the maids, his brother, Penelope. It's very childish. After her trial he says he is not his brother (blames person number 1 or states him to be worse than him) and that he had believed Penelope if she had told him (blames person number 2). And then doesn't even say I'm sorry for not helping you afterwards, even though she could have been easily sentenced to death had she not defended herself. Penelope deserves more than a simple sorry, but she doesn't even get that without any buts and you were in the wrong too!

[emiel-surreal]

i work in food service so i meet and serve a lot of people with greatly varying access needs and preferences. i have many stories of where i suspected people were expecting or anticipating me to be rude or incapable of or unwilling to help them. which sucks!!!! everybody deserves to be able to go to a restaurant and have a meal cooked for them as they want it.

we have a few regulars with allergies. of course we’ll make your meal without dairy. of course you can have corn tortillas instead of flour. this is the bare minimum in my opinion. we have the alternatives already so it isn’t an imposition at all. i feel horrible when it’s a busy day, and only the meal with a list of modifications was made wrong (the kitchen is rushed, they don’t see all the mods) so now only the person with allergies feels singled out, waiting an extra 15 minutes for their food to arrive RIGHT. this mostly happens on busy days, i only remember it happening two or three times. i think we’ve gotten better at reminding the kitchen and holding them accountable.

i held the kid’s meal out toward the one kid at the table, but she pushed the plate away. i looked to the mom with a surprised look. i was about to ask, “is there something wrong/missing?” but the mom said “she’s autistic”. i just said “i understand!” and i let the mom take the food from me. i guess she gets backlash from other adults in public when her kid doesn’t “behave”? i can’t remember if i did clarify/ask again “does everything look okay” or if she said everything is okay and i left. i know that in general, on a few occasions, my coworkers talk about how some kids are misbehaving, and i smile and nod while i think “they’re kids, they’re hungry, only we have the power to pacify them but instead we’re gossiping”.

i delivered two kids meals, but ranch spilled into one plate from its ramekin, contaminating the chicken strips. the mom at the table told me it had to be remade. i said of course, no worries. i swapped the ranch-contaminated chicken with some from another meal that wasn’t ready yet (it was just a couple drops of ranch, of course i’m using gloves). my coworker made like this kid was so unreasonably picky, but dude i get it. food needs to be RIGHT, and risking that this kid might have ARFID, why would i be the one to prevent this kid from eating? unfortunately the other kid meal was more difficult to reconcile but that one was out of my hands.

this lady couldn’t remember the name of the sauce she wanted on her sandwich. i couldn’t figure it out either, asking her for the flavor profile. so i brought a few out for her to try (i have to ask the kitchen to give me a ramekin of each). turns out we actually discontinued the sauce she was remembering lol whoops!!

a lady tells me her broccoli is too hard, and she can’t eat it because she has no teeth. yeah sometimes the broccoli doesn’t steam all the way. i took it back and steamed it further. i hate that someone could order something and then it turns out they won’t be able to enjoy it how they looked forward to it.

i get that this isn’t most people’s dream job, and it doesn’t pay very well. but we work with food, which people ingest, and i think that’s very serious. our pay is also directly correlated to how well we do our jobs and how many customers come back, so yeah i expect that i and my coworkers at least pretend to care about building a decent experience for customers. i know there’s a lot of talk about doing the minimum amount of work to stick it to the man or whatever, but also… besides the fact that my pay is correlated to how well i work (how likely to return customers are after being served by me)… i am working for people, why would i want to be rude? the rudeness affects the customer, not the boss.

and i am not perfect by any means. sometimes i go in to work exhausted or stressed already, or the job gets me exhausted or stressed, and i know i’m not being bubbly and polite and perfect. it’s hard when i have to keep up with the rest of the kitchen and restaurant, and help one person remember the name of what they’re asking me for. but that is the job and i take it seriously even if it’s hard for me at that moment.

very controversial opinion here, but sometimes customer service workers are the problem 😶

[simmos-blog]

Still the Goat

Thursday 11th May

Just mushrooms on toast for breakfast today as I’m eating too much. Not very good though, it was half a plate of mushrooms and 2 slices of dry toast.

The American ladies were having breakfast, they are just walking 4 miles to Ravenscar today (hardly worth putting your boots on) but they were both having full English.

I was on the trail by 9.15 and after a brisk walk down to the sea I was then climbing my way up a couple of hundred steps to the top of the cliffs. Five minutes later I was at the wonderfully named Boggle Hole Youth Hostel where again you descend to beach level before climbing back to the cliff top. On the way I passed a school party who were probably staying at Boggle Hole. One young lad told me there were 56 of them all chattering away. It seemed a well organised group which is just as well as they weren’t far from the cliff edge.

Within 15 minutes I made the trip down to the beach again so by now I had a serious sweat on. Once back on the cliff top it’s not far to Ravenscar but the last mile does involve a fairly steep ascent as you walk up past Peak Alum Works which has been preserved by The National Trust. I didn’t divert into the quarry but I did have coffee and a toasted teacake in the NT cafe at the top.

The weather was warm and at times sunny. I then had a good spell of flat/gently downhill walking which upped my average pace. I passed a few people many of whom were walking the dog. One couple were making a rather laboured descent down some steep slippery steps when I caught up with them. I was descending fast and she said “you’d better come through your moving much quicker than us”. I accepted the invitation and quickly left them behind. They then passed me later when I sat on a bench to admire the view and have a snack. We briefly exchanged pleasantries but I was soon up and moving and caught them at the next ravine again picking their way down some tricky and muddy stone steps. I was moving fast when the husband saw me and shouted “look out it’s that ruddy mountain goat again”. That why todays blog is entitled “still the goat”.

I did drop down to the beach at Hayburn Wyke to see the waterfall there. It was better this year with more water flowing and I chatted to a couple throwing sticks into the pool below the waterfall for their dog to recover. The dog was quite the diver disappearing under waster for 15 seconds at a time. It is though a big climb back to the cliff top and I made heavy weather of it as its steep, slippery and the weather had warmed up.

I was general feeling good and moving well and I was soon at Scalby Mill which is the entrance to Scarborough from the north. It was then just half an hour to my hotel via Peasholm Park and the ice cream shop.

I’ve got a nice room and I’ve taken the opportunity to wash my very sweaty shirt.

Dave kindly picked me up and I’ve had a very nice diner with Dave, Sally and Milo their large but well behaved golden retriever. I walked back but the trio accompanied me half fearing I might get mugged! I think that’s pretty unlikely in Scarborough particularly as I look as if I have spent a few nights sleeping in a bus shelter.

I’ve had a small wine and booked for breakfast in the morning (£12.50) so I will be trying hard to get my monies worth. I’m meeting up with Dave, Sally and Milo on the seafront in the morning. I’m planning a visit to Lucy’s shack at Cayton Bay as she does a very tasty tea loaf. I’m sure Milo will be pleased as every time I’ve been there have been loads of dogs.

So todays walk was 14.7 miles with plenty of stiff climbs but I’ve managed it comfortably if a little slower than yesterday. The fine weather has meant lots of great views and I’ve enjoyed myself.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hello beautiful people! hope you're fine. I wanted to know if you have any fic where stiles and derek love each other but derek (or stiles, but preferably Derek) is just too stubborn to admit it and there is a lot of angst and pining.

thank you!

Hi anon. @kevaaronday found this for you!

Trust me by madsmeetsmisha (23/23 | 43882 | Explicit | Sterek) Derek Hale needed a nanny for his kids. Someone who knew about werewolves, someone who was persistent enough not to throw in the sponge as soon as the kids wouldn't behave, someone trustworthy. Could a young, very talkative man like Stiles Stilinski be what Derek was looking for?

Summerblink by Thomaddicted (7/7 | 33,193 | Not Rated | Sterek) Young Derek Hale first met Little Stiles Stilinski 15 years ago on the beach, at the Hale family resort. For five summers, they were friends. Then one day, they weren't.

Ten years later, The Stilisnkis have returned, and with it, an entire host of unanswered questions and unresolved (If not a bit uncomfortable) feelings that seemed inappropriate then, but are resolvable now. 

Love isn’t Linear by CaitliNation (7/7 | 26,882 | Explicit | Sterek) “If I had a hypothetical boyfriend, uh… would that hypothetical boyfriend be allowed to stay with us hypothetically this Christmas? You know, if you wanted to meet my hypothetical boyfriend hypothetically?”

There’s a long pause from his dad as if he’s trying to process his son’s jargon but is failing wholeheartedly.

“What,” he finally replies flatly. Stiles lets out a groan.

“Don’t make me say it again!”

I found you hidden in plain sight (why’d I take so long?) by Goergeousgreymatter (7/7 | 25,419 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles is pretty sure he’s hallucinating. He’s got to be. There’s no other plausible explanation, he thinks, as he sits on the sidelines of the lacrosse field and feels the cold, hard bench underneath him, the roar of the crowd at his back like the worst white noise machine in the world.

There’s no other reason why he sees it, the hulking, black figure of a wolf peering at him from the treeline behind the bleachers. Its eyes flare in the glaring glow of the stadium lights, but they’re the wrong color, he thinks: blood-moon red instead of cobalt blue, but the familiarity of it all makes his stomach roll and clench.

The Stilinski Pack by TheRealDanniX (10/10 | 18,449 | Mature | Sterek) The Hales didn't go far after the fire and they took Peter with them. Ten years later they come back to Beacon Hills and find a new pack. The Stilinski pack lead by their human Alpha.

What did you just call me? By Written_prose_things (7/7 | 16,077 | Gen | Sterek) When an unknown hunter walks into Beacon Hills, Derek goes into Over Protective Alpha mode. Everyone gets puts into groups, which they're supposed to stick with at all times.

Stiles gets stuck with Derek. Ya know, The Alpha He Has A Crush On.

Over the next three days, they both realise exactly how much fun their normal life can be as well.

Nine Kinds of Silence by suburbanmotel (1/1 | 8,443 | Mature | Sterek) This was how it usually went — Stiles talking, Derek not talking.

Derek was used to it, the endless spill of words pooling between them, filling the cracks and chasms of silence. He told everyone it drove him crazy, but that was mostly a lie. If you asked him on a good day, he might even say he liked it. It was the quiet that unnerved him, the gaping Stiles’ shaped holes of space where the words were supposed to go, that he didn’t know how to handle.

But If I Know You (I Know What You’ll Do) by notahousebutatomb (1/1 | 7,339 | Teen | Sterek) The two intermingled packs approached the gym doors with caution, Scott and Derek in the lead for safety. In the middle of the basketball court stood a tall, slender woman draped in a long black cloak. Two dark horns protruded from the top of her head, partially obscured by her wild black hair. Her lips curled into a smug grin when she saw their expressions of obvious dismay. 

“You poor, simple fools, thinking you could defeat me, the Mistress of All Evil! Well…” The witch swept her sleeve aside to reveal Stiles. The pale teen was sprawled across the ground, his face partially obscured where it rested against his elbow. His other arm was tucked snugly against his chest, supporting his slumped torso. The witch smirked when she added, “Here’s your precious human.” 

A Promise Like This by whentheywrite (1/1 | 6,037 | Gen | Sterek) “Oh my god,” Stiles said, taking the offered bag Derek had brought that night. The moment he opened it, the best smell in the world came wafting out and Stiles moaned. “Curly fries. Oh my god, Sourwolf, I want to marry you.”

In a split second, Derek’s face had gone from neutrally blank to bright red. Except Stiles was much too busy digging the container of fries out to really notice.

He might have been a little intrigued if he had.

OR

Five times Stiles sort of accidentally proposed and the one time he might have meant it.

Stormy Nights Make The Best Hot Chocolate by FogDog1738 (1/1 | 4,070 | Mature | Sterek) Stiles gets anxiety from a storm during the night and Derek comes to check on him. Things are worse than they both wanted them to be, but eventually turn into a night of mutually coming out.

heart/beats by Galaxy_Collector (1/1 | 2,568 | Gen | Sterek) Character A [Stiles] gets the flu while the rest of the gang are away fighting supernatural enemies. Character B [Derek] comes to check on him. Oh, and he's failed to mention that Character A is his mate. But don't worry, Character C [Melissa McCall] totally (and unintentionally!) rats him out.

[voxaholic]

Mod gave me permission to answer the other two questions since they are both things we've discussed extensively in DMs!

Coping with trauma

Vox has a lot to process in Heaven, not even just the Alastor stuff, but the whole century he spent as essentially a backseat passenger in his own mind, but the Alastor stuff is definitely a lot of it.

Nifty's recced her therapist to him but it takes a while for Vox to trust the therapist enough to really dig into any of his issues beyond a surface level.

Vox didn't sleep or dream in a human sense in Hell, that's no longer the case in Heaven and he's not happy about it. Vox can and does get proper "wake up screaming bloody murder" level night terrors now. He heavily relies on Heaven's side-effect-free sleeping pills to try and drug himself into a dreamless sleep but they don't always work and he's woken up to concerned neighbors banging on his door before. That was a deeply humiliating experience for him because he has a complex about "inconveniencing" people with his trauma and a whole suitcase of baggage about being a "burden" that he has barely begun to unpack.

He also struggles with the fact that a part of him still misses Alastor, that he hasn't managed to excise all the fondness he felt for him. He wishes he could blame it on left-over programming but he's able to reflect enough to realize that it's probably all him. He does, on some level, wish he could see him again, even if only so he could shake him by the shoulders and scream "What did you want from me?" in his dumb grinning face.

Vox is now fully able to realize how deeply violating and dehumanizing Alastor's deliberate desexing of him was and that combined with some Val-related feelings that he also has to unpack, leads to a period where Vox starts sleeping around in a very deliberate attempt to regain his sense of sexual agency. His therapist has mixed feelings about it.

It doesn't really succeed and if anything, makes him realize that his whole ordeal has made him decidedly more vanilla than he was before (he certainly doesn't have a humiliation kink anymore) but he ends up actually making a few casual friends through his participation in Heaven's small but still present hook-up scene.

Mostly, his main coping mechanism is that he tries to keep busy. He picks up and drops so many hobbies. Devotes himself to actually work on truly redeeming himself because that seems like the right thing to do. Doesn't let himself ruminate on things, or he tries not to.

The Vees

He struggles a lot with grieving them, both because he's never actually really experienced bereavement before, and also because he's in Heaven and they (especially Val) were both terrible people. Even though no one has actually told him so (in fact, people have told him the opposite) it doesn't feel like he's allowed to openly grieve them. Especially because there is no one he can share that grief with.

He struggles a lot with questions he'll never be able to get the answers to, especially when it comes to Val. He's able to look back on how Val was with him and has been able to come to no other conclusion than the fact that Valen-fucking-tino was in fact capable of love, but a part of him still can't believe it, won't believe it without hearing it from Val himself.

With Velvette, he struggles with feeling like he ruined her afterlife. He is unfairly hard on himself when it comes to how he behaved during their 100 years together.

She did so much for him. She rejected Heaven for him and he doesn't know why. She'd known the "real" him for so little time in comparison to everything else. What made her stick around? What made her sacrifice so much for him?

He becomes a little bit obsessed with what, if anything, comes after a sinner's second death. It's a coping mechanism and not a particularly healthy one. He's got a conspiracy board going. He's considering if near-death experiences in Heaven are possible because having near-death experiences on earth had sometimes led to people briefly experiencing the afterlife. Honestly, he probably needs an intervention of some sort

I think that the heaven ending is so interesting! Do you have any more info about it? The concept is very interesting, he finally regains his identity and personal agency, but still has trauma from the incident. Like, how his reunion with Sarah goes, or coping with the trauma from the torture incident, or that he probably won’t see the other Vees ever again.

Reunion with Sarah

She really wasn’t expecting to ever see him again; it’d been almost one hundred years since sinners first started getting redeemed and a hundred and seventy years since he died. Sarah had mostly come to terms with the fact she was never going to reunite with her father, mother, or brother in Heaven. It was quite the shock when she got the call from the orientation services. All they said was “Your dad’s here, come get him” and didn’t explain any further. She rushed to the office, frantic, trying to wrap her head around what was happening, and met Niffty and Sir Pentious outside Vox’s room. They weren’t entirely sure how much to tell her— what she needed to know versus what should remain Vox’s story to tell. They gave her a vague rundown of the general situation that she didn’t fully understand; she didn’t really get what an “Overlord” was and didn’t have time to process the deeper implications of “there was an incident where he lost most of his memories, but he seems to have them back now.”

It was… awkward when she went in to meet him. Vox had mostly calmed down from the initial panic attack, but he was still reeling, trying to adjust to suddenly having full access to all his memories, grappling with everything that had happened to him in the past hundred years, and trying to come to terms with the fact that he was actually in Heaven. He’d been told that she was coming, but he didn’t recognize her when she first walked in. She looked like a middle-aged woman— older than he’d lived to be— and the last time he’d seen her, she’d been seven years old. It clicked after a moment (it was… something, noticing she’d taken on the form of a pilot fish of all creatures) and Vox was just stuck there, grasping for something to say. Sarah was floundering too. She’d been longing for this moment for almost two hundred years. She’d always imagined their reunion as a happy moment, where he serenely took her into his arms and hugged her just like he’d occasionally done when she came to greet him after he got home from work. He looked almost exactly how she remembered him (minus the antennas, angelic eye, and slight uncanniness to some of his features), but the overt anxiety in his demeanor was concerning.

Vox tried to talk to her normally, regardless of how overwhelmed he was; he never thought this moment would come, but he didn’t want to have a meltdown right in front of his daughter the second he reunited with her. He told her he didn’t know a ton about what was going on, but he could try to answer any questions she might have about Hell! Quietly, she asked if at any point in the past century he had seen/heard anything about her mother or her brother. He was left speechless— he hadn’t made any attempt to look for them and hadn’t even known they were in Hell. Then, looking into her big, sad, disappointed eyes, it all became too much. He broke down, shaking and crying (actually crying! He hadn’t been able to shed real tears in who knows how long) as the weight of everything that had led up to this moment became too much to bear.

Sarah had always pictured her dad holding her whenever she imagined their reunion. She supposed her holding her dad was close enough.

Was going to write more about the other two things you mentioned, but then this got long and I dozed off while writing it, so Imma just post this now and come back to the other stuff later

[pascalpanic]

Miller Morales Mechanic Shop (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Part One of Miller Morales Mechanic Shop

Summary: Something is wrong with your car. What, exactly? You have no clue. So you bring it in to some professionals- who also have a toddler running around the shop.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, Frankie is a dad, brief mention of divorce and trauma bc poor Frankie, there is a child heavily involved in this so if you don’t like kids this isn’t for you :)

A/N: WELCOME TO PART ONE EVERYONE! This is such a cute AU and I’m BEYOND excited to start sharing it with you all! I don’t know how many parts this will be or anything but I can’t wait to take it and run with it.

Marisol Morales behaves for very few people. One of those is Ben Miller. Unfortunately, she has decided to break her own rules today.

Frankie loves summer. He loves his little girl playing outside in her baby pool, taking her for walks around the neighborhood with their three-legged dog, all of the fun parts. The hard part is when the nanny goes on a vacation and Mari has to come to work with him.

Benny and Frankie, ever since the chaos that was the Lorea mission, run a small mechanic shop together. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop isn’t necessarily the busiest place in town, but they make enough to get by and have some disposable income too. Mari loves to hang around the shop with her daddy and uncle. She’s there more than Frankie would like, but he supposes it’s not the worst thing in the world. When Frankie and Jules split and Frankie won full custody, he’d hoped a nanny would take care of most everything when Mari is home all day in summer. Sadly, he was in for a rude awakening when no Mary Poppins showed up on his doorstep.

It’s normally not too bad; Benny hung the moon in Mari’s eyes. If she won’t do something for her daddy, which is still somewhat rare, she’ll always do it for her Uncle Benny. That makes the day run much smoother. Mari has a whole host of quiet-time activities and toys to play with, and the men generally trade off periods of either working on the cars or being with the little girl.

Her favorite activities at the shop include drawing on the concrete with thick sticks of chalk and playing with her toy helicopters and planes. Benny insists tanks are cooler, but Mari prefers flying her Polly Pockets in the chopper, running through the garage and making flight noises. She’s a smart little thing; for her age, she’s picked up big words and can make sentences out of three words, which is quite a stretch for a baby just over two years of age. She calls for Benny and Daddy and knows the names of his tools: wench, scu-dwive, and her favorite, win-seeled wipe fwuid. She loves to babble at customers while they get their oil changed.

-

Being shit with cars is no fun. It only increases the anxiety when some light flashes on your dashboard. The lights can mean so many things that you find it ridiculous; “check engine”? Check it for what? To save yourself the anxiety, you find your nearest mechanic and pay them to deal with it.

Today, as you pull over into a gas station, you check your phone and find that the nearest shop is a place you haven’t heard of. It must be new. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop, 0.6 miles away. The name implies something more local and homegrown. You’re more than willing to support a place like that, so you start up the engine, pray you don’t explode, and make your way over to the shop.

It’s nearby, like the map indicated. The outside is a quaint little place, tucked in a strip mall next to a coffee shop, a dentist, and an insurance agency. The three car bays are empty, and knowing next to nothing about how these shops work, you pull inside and park your car, letting it run as you wait for an employee. The bell dinged to let them know you were here, so you stay patient and listen idly to the hum of the talk radio show from your car’s speakers.

After a minute or two pass, you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right place to be. Maybe you were supposed to go in the front or something. Concluding that you probably aren’t where you’re supposed to be, you turn off the car and get out only to be greeted by the sound of buzzing lips.

You can hear a baby’s voice, mimicking some kind of vehicle’s sound, and for a second you’re worried this place must have you hearing things. Then, from a swinging door to the front comes a little girl, running and babbling to herself about her toy helicopter.

She has a head full of dark brown curls, tied back into two puffs with pink scrunchies, and matching pink leggings and a t-shirt far too big for her, the back emblazoned with the shop’s logo. She’s barefoot, tiny feet slapping against the cold cement.

“I told you I had to piss, Fish!” A man’s voice shouts from one end of the garage.

“No you didn’t, dipshit!” Another man shouts back. Being caught in the middle of their argument is quite comical, if you’re being honest with yourself. “She’s fucking two! You can’t leave her alone like that, man!”

The first voice is matched to a person as a tall blonde man emerges from the customer service side of the shop. “Marisol Morales, come here,” he insists sternly as he rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit. “Come on, you’re gonna trip.” Ben is embroidered on a patch over his heart.

She pouts at him before stumbling forward and continuing to run, stopping as she sees you and looking up in confusion. Her lower lip sticks out in a pout as her eyes scan your face, as if she’s trying to remember if she knows who you are. “Hi,” she finally concedes as you bend to her level.

“Hi there,” you smile and hold out a hand. “What’s your name?” You pick her up, holding her on your hip so that she doesn’t trip, like Ben so desperately feared.

The second, unknown voice shouts for the little girl again before boots clunk on concrete up to you, rounding your car and stopping. This must be the girl’s father, you realize, as you rake your eyes up his body. He wears the same navy blue jumpsuit as the other man, though it’s unsnapped over his chest, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. The patch on his chest reads Catfish. He wears a ball cap and warm brown curls peek out from under it. He has scruff and a hooked nose that perfectly matches the one on the little girl. “I Mari,” she introduces herself proudly.

“Hey, leave her alone, Mar,” the man shakes his head as he hoists her up to hold her on his hip. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says with an embarrassed smile, showing a dimple beneath the scruff on his chin.

“No, it’s not a problem,” you laugh then set her down and tell the little girl your name. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” You chuckle as she looks at you. She blushes and buries her face in the man’s chest, giggling shyly.

He looks down at the little girl then up at you again. “Well, uh, hi. I’m Frankie, and you’ve met Mari already.”

“Your daughter?” you ask as you look at the pudgy little girl, who now stares at you in awe.

Frankie nods and adjusts his ball cap, pushing his hair back with it. “Yep. Our nanny is on vacation, so she gets to hang out around here,” he chuckles and kisses her head, setting her down. “Go see Benny, yeah?” He asks her. She happily waddles off towards the blonde man, who gives you a wave then heads into the back. “What brings you in?”

“Would you laugh if I told you I don’t really know?” You admit with a shy smile. “My check engine light came on while I was on the highway. I don’t know the first thing about cars, so I was hoping you’d figure out what that meant.”

“Nah, no laughing here,” he nods and gives you a genuine smile before looking over at your car. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll have you pop the hood for me and I’ll give it a look?” He asks.

“That would be great. Thank you,” you tell him, the desperation for his help in your voice. Now that you get the chance to really look at him, he’s quite attractive. His eyes are deep set and a beautiful brown, and they crinkle when he smiles. Facial expressions only accentuate the lines in his face, but he’s certainly not old. His eyes still hold his youth.

“No problem.” He leads you to the car and you pop the hood open before getting out. “Could I take your keys?” he asks you. “Just so I can turn it on and off and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod frantically and hand them over to him. “I’ll… be in the waiting room?”

“That’s how we usually do it,” he chuckles as he takes the keys from you. “Just shout for Benny if Mari annoys you again.”

That makes you frown. “She’s not annoying at all. She’s adorable,” you smile as you look over your shoulder and see her and the blonde man playing together.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he laughs and points his wrench at you as he walks to the hood of the car.

Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh as you head back to the waiting room. You walk in and Mari perks up, turning to look at you. “Hi! Playing helicopter,” she tells you in her stunted speech as she holds up the toy.

“You sure are,” you nod and sit next to her. “Can I play?” You ask, looking up at Benny, silently asking him the question too.

He nods and Mari squeals happily. “Friend!” She shrieks and hands you another helicopter. “Go pew pew, okay?” She drags them across the toy mat like they’re cars, and you follow suit.

“Okay,” you laugh. Looking up at the blonde man, you extend a smile his way and introduce yourself. He’s busy repairing a Barbie dollhouse with a screwdriver.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, Benny, whatever you wanna call me.”

Driving your helicopter around the ground, following Mari’s lead, you chuckle. “No preference?”

“Fish calls me Benny.”

“Fish?” You ask and tip your head.

“Frankie, whatever. We’re buddies from the service. His code name was Catfish,” the man explains with a shrug, testing the hinges of the plastic door.

That makes you smile down at Frankie’s daughter. “Really, just buddies? Could’ve sworn you’d be brothers,” you tease the blonde, blue-eyed man. “Does Frankie know how to do his daughter’s hair?” You ask and fiddle with her two pigtails.

“Yes, he does,” Frankie insists as he walks out to the front, cleaning a wrench. “But just barely.”

You look up at him, embarrassed. “Her pigtails just look a little messy. Then again, she was running around like crazy,” you laugh and watch her rush over to Frankie, insisting he pick her up.

Bending down to grab her, Frankie groans at the ache in his joints. “She was. I could use some pointers, if you’ve got ‘em.”

“Of course,” you nod and stand too, brushing the dust from the concrete floor off on your pants. “What’s the verdict on the car?” You ask.

Frankie turned, watching as Benny walks out to the shop, but he turns back to face you. “Oh, right. The engine was misfiring, and unburned fuel was being put into the exhaust system, and that damaged the catalytic converter.”

You nod as you listen to him, really staring at his face more than anything. He’s just so damn pretty, you note as you admire the curve of his nose, his slightly sunken and dark eyes. His lips look beautiful and soft, even though they seem a little chapped. When he stops talking, it takes you a second to process it. “I don’t know what that means,” you admit with a shy smile. “I told you. I don’t know shit about cars,” you laugh, playing it off like you were lost when you were really lost in his eyes.

He shakes his head and laughs, bouncing Mari on his hip. “Your car is gonna need some work. Couple hours,” he shrugs. “If Benny and I get to working on it together, an hour and a half, maybe?” He admits.

“Yeah, that’s great. I can watch Mari,” you offer.

Frankie would never be this trusting normally. You’re a straight-up stranger, but your demeanor is good enough for him. Besides, you’re right here. He can check on the two of you every so often, and Mari seems to love you. “That would be great,” he smiles. “You really don’t have to.”

“No, I have nothing better to do,” you chuckle and look at the little girl. “You wanna play?”

Mari nods excitedly and Frankie sets her down. She rushes back to her toy mat and you watch her go. “Thank you, again, for fixing all this.”

“Just doing my job,” he nods. This time, it’s his turn to admire you. He stares at your face, examining the curves and angles that make you up. Your eyes are kind and warm as they follow the little girl, and he can see that he’s making a good choice here.

When you sit down, Mari comes and sits cross-legged across from you. “What are we gonna play?” You ask her, looking at her wide variety of toys. Her pile includes dinosaurs, Matchbox cars, lots of toy helicopters and planes, Barbie dolls, and a plastic tea set.

“Tea party!” She says and hands you a tiny plastic cup and a felt muffin.

“Oh my goodness,” you gasp in a fake accent. “How delightful!”

Frankie peeks over his shoulder at the two of you. He could really get used to that sight.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs

[harryhoney-bee]

Could you 12 from the fluff list? And please make Y/N a lil cheeky 😂❤️

Thankyou 🌞

Me and my husband, we're sticking together

Hii, I think you meant the smut list, hehe

Summary: Harry and Y/n have a quickie before going out.

Warning: unprotected sex

Word count: 1.5k

"If you don't change out of those shorts and into some pants I'll have them by lunch," Harry said playfully, making eye contact through the mirror.

The couple had agreed to go to a breakfast party to commemorate Y/n's co-worker's job promotion, one that Harry happens to be very jealous of. She wasn't dumb, she knew that nick - the guy - would stare her up and down whenever she walked in a room, she just didn't care enough about him, very differently than Harry.

"Yeah, of course, I'll do that," she said rolling her eyes, " I don't know why you worry about him so much, I've already told you he looks at everyone like that."

Harry hugged her from behind, kissing her neck and slightly sucking on it, "I'm not everybody's husband, am I?"

"You just care too much with things that shouldn't matter," the girl said, feeling the bulge of his thigh on her behind, "Harry we don't have time."

Y/n knew what he wanted, his body language saying everything. Harry had a weird obsession with having sex before they had to go out somewhere, he was just very persuasive.

"Please, just a quickie, ya look good right now," his hand went below her shirt, feeling her tits since she wasn't wearing a bra, "always so pretty sweetheart."

She looked at him in the mirror, his tongue and teeth playing with the skin of her neck while his fingers were playing with her nipples, his other hand pressing her lower back into his hips.

"You need to be very fast, though," she breathed.

The man didn't need anything else, he quickly took her shirt off and took her body in his arms, sitting on the bed while she sat on his lap. His mouth promptly found her nipple, sucking on it gently while his other hand pinched the other one, making the girl moan and lean into him.

"Such a good pair of tits, makes me want to love on you all day," he whispered on her chest, going back to the breasts and leaving hickeys on the skin.

The girl started to hump against his hips, the rough fabric of her shorts creating amazing friction on her clit. Harry noticed her actions, taking a hold of her hips, making her rub herself even more. "Feeling good, baby? You like to hump on my cock like that?"

Y/n nodded, hugging her arms on his neck, picking up her pace, "want you to cum on my cock, though. What about we take those clothes out so I can make you feel good?"

"Alright, H," she said breathlessly, swiftly getting off his lap and stripping out of her shorts, wearing only a cotton white underwear, which already had a wet spot on it.

"Come on," he said, so she could stand close to him, her cunt right on his face, given the height of the bed. Harry held her love handles, bringing his mouth over her clothed pussy, his tongue lapping the fabric and feeling her arousal.

"So ready for me sweetheart. I know you said to be quick, but I just want to spend something eating you, alright?" He barely waited for her answer, his lips were already attaching to her clit.

"Right there Harry," she said, pulling his hair.

He took the inside of her thighs and spread her legs so he could have more space, "you taste amazing, baby." He murmured, taking the fabric of her underwear to the side and finally coming in contact with her bare pussy.

His tongue was playing with her wetness, trying to feel all of her with the tip of his tongue. The girl was a moaning mess, his tongue making her feel as if she was in heaven.

Harry abruptly took his mouth off of her, which made the girl complain, "Hey, no whining," he said harshly to her, grabbing her jaw, "you behave or else I’ll be the only one cumming, understand? Now, take your panties and get on the bed on your knees."

Y/n did what he told her, getting on the soft mattress on her knees, head turned to the headboard. She felt the bed dip behind her, moments later Harry was kissing her neck eagerly, "I hope that stupid boy that works with you can see all the hickey on your skin, 'cus you're my wife, my pretty hot wife."

"Just yours Harry, no one else's," she shivered, holding his arms to gain balance.

"Got you all naked for me on my bed, how lucky did I get to have someone like you? So fucking beautiful," his raspy voice met her ears, "why don't you get on all four for me? Need to fuck your cunt, gonna fill you up."

Harry watched the girl get in position, he promptly found a pillow to put under her hip, so she could be more comfortable. Her hole was already dripping just waiting for him.

He opened his zipper and pulled himself out of his boxers just enough so he could still be dressed, his cock was already hard, dripping pre-cum. He took two of his fingers, sinking them on her opening, making the girl moan, "liking that, baby? It's just my fingers yet." The man continued to fingering her, her walls contracting against his fingers while he was teasing himself, stroking his shaft with his hand.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, all spread open for your husband," he jerked, "While I'm here, fully clothed.

He picked up his pace with his hand, he wanted to be on the verge of cumming, so they could be quick and get at the stupid breakfast on time. His fingers were also working fast on her cunt, his thumb hitting her clit.

"H, I'm gonna cum, please," Y/n begged.

With that, Harry took his fingers off her, also freeing his cock from his hold. "You're only gonna cum on my cock, love."

The man got his body closer to her ass, being right in front of her openings, he took the head of his dick and applied pressure on her opening, just teasing and spreading her wetness. He made up and down movements around her slit, as the girl underneath him would whine, wanting to be fucked.

When he felt like he couldn't do it anymore, he slammed himself on her cunt, staying deep inside her, giving the girl some time to adjust, "how is it? Is my cock filling you up?" He asked, looking for compliments.

"Yeah, feel you so deep, please fuck me," she cried, with her head buried on the pillow.

"Shh, don't worry, gonna give it to you real good," his hips started working on her roughly, feeling the warmth of her cunt.

He was pounding inside his wife, holding to her hips with one hand while the other was playing with her clit, trying to make her orgasm as fast as she could. Harry lent into her body, whispering to her ear, "need you to cum, we need to leave in less than 10 minutes," he let his body fall into hers, only one hand holding him from crushing her body.

His cock was barely leaving her pussy with the thrusts duo to how deep he was. She was pulsing around him, she was close. "Cum for your husband, Y/n, go on."

With the pleasure of his finger on her clit the girl released, rolling her eyes as the pleasure took control of her body, which was shaking from the orgasm and from her husband thrust, who was trying to achieve his pleasure.

"Fuck baby, I’m almost there," he growled, kissing her cheek, concentrating on the movements of his hips.

The pounding was desperate, with barely any rhythm, he held her body against his back, jerking his hips frantically into her, until he felt a pressure on his balls, cum leaving the tip on his cock and hitting her cervix right after.

He moaned in her ear, kissing her back and trying to be as silent as possible as he made lazy movements, trying to get all of his cum to go inside her.

The girl was moaning sweetly, being overstimulated by him. After a few moments Harry finally decided to pull out, holding onto her hips and watching his cum dripping out of her, he took his fingers and put it back into her pussy, "gonna take your underwear, love" he said after tucking himself into his boxers and pants.

He placed the underwear on the leg holes and helped her get dressed, a new spot forming from having his cum, "want you to keep me inside, alright? When we get home I’m gonna love on you all night," he kissed her, giving the girl her shirt and her shorts, "see, told I would have them by lunch," he teasingly said.

Hii guys, please like, reblog, and give feedback here (I hope the link works) I'm very tired now, so byee, hope you guys enjoy it, see you tomorrow <3

[summersnow82]

Somethin' Bad - Part 6

Author's Note: My standard disclaimer stands. This chapter is a bit longer - thanks for sticking with me. Feeling terrible for putting Travis through this bit.

TW: Constance being the absolute wretched hag she is. References to neglect and verbal abuse.

_____

Part 6

In all fairness, Annabelle hadn’t planned on being so assertive for their “long conversation,” as Travis had put it. In fact, she’d planned to be pretty compliant, but his sudden shift in personality scared her, and when she was scared she tended to behave like a wild animal backed into a corner.

Plus, that “good girl” comment pissed her off. She wasn’t proud of it.

Sean told her over and over one day her mouth was going to get her in trouble, and he was right. Sean was the logical one, the level-headed one, the brilliant one; Annabelle was all gut, intuition, and creativity. He was discerning, and she was too trusting. He knew when to hold his tongue, and she never did. They balanced each other out well, and had learned to rely on each other over the years. It wasn’t easy being so far from home, seemingly thrown into one chaotic situation after another, and North Kill was definitely ranking in their top ten.

Now, here she was, staring down a surly sheriff while his crazy family held her best friend hostage. Things were not looking up for them, so Annabelle did what Sean had taught her all those years ago: put emotion aside and look at the facts.

“Who the hell are you?” He has asked. A hard question to answer when you’re still figuring that out yourself.

The facts were these: Officer Hackett had ample opportunity to harm her, and time after time, he’d protected her. He might have gone about it in an abrasive manner, but he had chosen to protect her. She still didn’t know why he hadn’t revealed her to his brother, and a list of reasons ran through her head, some good, and others very, very bad.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and made a choice. “My name is Annabelle Georgia Harris. You can run my name and my finger prints if you like, but I doubt you’ll get a hit back, Sheriff.”

He looked up at her, surprise and curiosity gracing his pale features. It looked good on him. “And why is that, Miss Harris?”

“Because, Sheriff,” she said, maintaining eye contact, “I don’t exist here.”

——————————-

Travis closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He’d been staring at a computer screen far too long, and now he had a headache. Once again he replayed their conversation in the interrogation room because surely she hadn’t said what he thought she’d said. But after hours of searching he still couldn’t find a trace of an Annabelle Georgia Harris in any law enforcement database. A Google search pulled nothing, as well. He ran her fingerprints, and again, nothing. Travis had taken her back to her cell, and now he sat at his desk trying to figure out this riddle she’d dropped in his lap.

He’d been at this job long enough to know when someone was lying. His childhood had been a breeding ground of human behavior, and he’d become very good at reading people: their tone, word choice, body language, all of it. It helped him navigate his mother’s wrath and his father’s indifference, Chris’ fear and Bobby’s recklessness. Annabelle, at least from her perspective, believed what she had said: she didn’t exist here.

Where is here to her? He made a mental note to ask, and began rubbing his temples. He was so tired, so damn tired.

Lonely, too. The quiet hum of his computer lulled his heavy thoughts, and he found himself drifting back to the showers when he’d held her in his arms. Her towel had been so thin, and she was so warm, trembling in his arms. In that moment she was completely vulnerable, and while Travis knew it shouldn’t have been sexy he found it all too easy to let his thoughts take him to a place where the towel slipped; where, instead of pain and fear, she was eager and wanting.

The opening bars from “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” theme startled him out of his pleasant daydream. Chris. Damn it. “What?” He asked harshly.

“You need to get over here.” His younger brother’s voice was full of panic just like when they were little. It was almost involuntary, but when Travis heard his brother like that he had a knee jerk reaction to race to his side, saying, “It was me, Ma, not Chris.”Why should his brother have to bear her hatred, too? Nothing was more important than family; you protected it at all costs, and Travis took that belief to heart.

He had the scars to prove it.

“I’ll be right there.”

The keys were in his hands, and he was out the door in seconds. Anyone who may have seen him would have seen a seasoned officer moving with a sense of urgency, but not panic. Panic was exactly what Travis was feeling, though. His heart slammed against his chest, his pulse echoing in his ears.

“Not again, not again, not again,” he muttered under his breath as he drove, thinking about all the bodies, all the blood, all the carnage he had covered up over the past six years. It soaked through to his dreams, and now all he had were nightmares. There was only so much a man could bear before he broke, and Travis didn’t think he had much more in him.

The Hackett household was in an uproar when Travis arrived. Caleb was waiting for him at the front door, panic evident on his young features. He led his uncle down to the basement where the noise was deafening.

Constance Hackett’s voice cut through above all the other voices, screaming obscenities at the man they’d captured. He was against the back wall of the cell, curled in the fetal position, and trembling violently. Chris and Kaylee were standing in front of the cell, trying to hold off Bobby and Jedediah while Constance egged them on. “They’re gonna kill ‘em, Uncle Travis,” Caleb said, looking at his uncle with pleading eyes.

Fix this, Travis. Fix it. Prove you’re worth something.

“Calm down! Everyone calm down!” Travis shouted over the noise. He succeeded in shocking everyone into a brief silence before his mother lit in.

“No, we will not calm down!” She cried, thrusting a finger at their prisoner. “He hurt our sweet Kaylee, and he’s gonna pay for it.”

Travis turned his eyes to Kaylee. “I’m fine, Uncle Travis. Really, Gammy. He didn’t mean to do it. It wasn’t his fault.” Kaylee’s voice was broken with pleading, and Travis knew she was just as tired as he was of this insanity.

“He choked her,” Bobby accused, taking a step forward, but Chris moved in front of him. Bobby may have been a mountain of a man, but he knew his place in the pecking order of the Hackett family.

“He didn’t mean it, Bobby,” Chris assured, before turning to Travis. “He was having a nightmare or something, right, Kaylee?”

Kaylee nodded. “He’s been crying in his sleep a lot, but this was different. I was real worried about him, Uncle Travis.”

“So you went inside the cell to see if he was okay?” Travis asked, already knowing the answer. Sweet Kaylee. She needed to stay away from cages.

Kaylee nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “He didn’t mean to hurt me. He stopped the minute he woke up. I swear,” she cried, turning her eyes to her grandmother. “Please, don’t hurt him, Gammy. I can’t bear any more of this.” Kaylee covered her face with her hands, sobbing.

“There, there, sweetness,” Jedediah said soothingly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Kaylee collapsed against him, sobbing into her grandfather’s chest.

Travis watched the scene for a moment, before turning his eyes to the prisoner. He was thankful his niece and nephew didn’t have to go through what he and Chris experienced when they were children, really he was. But sometimes he envied how his father would protect his grandchildren, and his mother would dote on them as if they could do no wrong. He would never understand why he wasn’t good enough or what he had done wrong to cause such a huge difference in behavior.

Travis sighed, stepping towards the cell. “And just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Constance asked, grabbing his hand and shoving it back as he reached for the cell door. He blinked at his mother, confused.

“I’m gonna-”

“You’re not gonna do shit, boy. He stays here. We got things managed.”

“Ma, I can take him-”

“Why are you even here, huh?” She barked, hands on her hips. “We didn’t call ya, and we don’t need ya. Abandoning your family like that, and then expect to show up and act like you done nothing wrong.”

“Ma,” Chris began, and Constance shot him a look that silenced him immediately.

“Gammy, please,” Caleb said softly. “Uncle Travis can fix this.”

Constance snorted. “Like he’s fixed so much before, right?” She leveled her gaze at Travis, and he felt like he was three feet tall, standing in front of her in his footy pajamas, soaked with urine after wetting his bed. She had berated him then, and she berated him now. “You don’t care about this family. If you did this mess would be over and through, but it ain’t. What good are you, anyway?”

Travis lowered his eyes to the floor. He was almost fifty-six years old, but his mother reduced him to a little boy whenever it suited her. “I’m doing the best I can, Ma,” he said quietly, thinking of the scars, the sleepless nights, the interrogations, and the questioning looks of his fellow officers when they came to investigate the missing persons Hackett’s Quarry was becoming so well known for.

He thought of the physical, emotional, and mental toll these past six years had taken on him, the devastation it caused with the few non-familial relationships he had, the dreams he’d crushed because his wants and needs could never be more important than his family.

He thought of his gentle Evelyn, the future they had planned, and how his mother had gleefully destroyed all of it by turning her wrath onto the sweetest creature he’d ever known.

He thought about Annabelle, and how despite her frustration and anger, she’d chosen to trust him over and over again. How she thanked him for the simplest things, and allowed herself to be vulnerable with him.

Travis had drowned out his mother’s hateful words as he thought, and finally he lifted his eyes. “Kaylee?” He asked, cutting off his mother’s tirade. “You’re the one he hurt. What do you want?”

Kaylee sniffled, looking at her grandmother, then her father. Finally, she turned thankful eyes to her uncle. “Would you please take him with you, Uncle Travis?”

Travis nodded, and this time his mother didn’t try to stop him. The man in the cell was still shaking, silently sobbing, but he stood as Travis yanked him up. Not too gentle, Travis reminded himself. He cuffed the prisoner, and led him out of the basement towards his car, his mother’s lasting, damaging words still ringing in his ears.

[fictionalxreader-interactions]

Mobius x Reader (feat. Jealous!Mobius!) 

First and foremost...you couldn’t believe Renslayer allowed it. You were aware of how fond Renslayer was of Mobius, so it shouldn’t be too surprising. It may make you feel certain emotions you have to fight down because it wasn’t fitting of a TVA agent and far more of what you see in Variants. 

Second, you didn’t think it would go well. On one hand, you could see the logic after Mobius explained it a few times. But you still thought it too risky. Any given Loki was dangerous when facing in the field. Bringing the God of Mischief in a place whose sole purpose was to maintain order? That was asking for trouble. 

You spent plenty of hours trying to fathom all the reasons Renslayer gave to Mobius about why she wanted and should refuse his request. But more so trying to figure out the argument Mobius used to win. 

Seeing them in action...you kind of got it. 

Or at least became even more curious about this Variant. The amount of faith Mobius had in him made you worry. If anything went too wrong, what would happen to Mobius should the Time Keepers be too upset or become unamused by Loki’s mischief? 

Which is why and how you latched on to their cases. To help keep Mobius anchored before he sunk with that Loki’s troubles. 

Except...the Loki Variant was almost pleasant. Yes, he was everything his file said he was, but there was more to him as well. The less relevant facts that don’t make it onto the reports. The way his mind works is fascinating and you begin to see how and why Mobius managed it! 

Both you and Loki understand that Mobius is in charge. Loki also understands that you have more rank than him. So rather and always go to Mobius with an idea or theory, he begins to come to you first. Maybe he’s hoping you’re a little easier to manipulate, which you don’t put past him. But you’re very adamant that if it requires going anywhere or trying anything, you’ll be reporting to at least Mobius or Hunter B-15. He complies. 

Loki asks you questions. You answer in turn for stories about Asgard. Sure, you know of it, you’ve even visited a few times. But it was for a case and like many other places, it just blends in with the rest of the time line. You never really admired it’s beauty until you get lost in the stories Loki would tell about his childhood there. The moments that didn’t make it into the reel. Moments that mattered or impacted him in ways that the Time Keepers didn’t really care about. 

You begin to stick up for Loki more. It’s no longer just Mobius nearly pleading for everyone else to humor him. You do see the scared little boy Mobius did and you feel protective now. It still surprises you how much faith you have in Loki now, and you would love to bond about it with Mobius...if he wasn’t suddenly acting weird. 

It starts off small. With little comments you brush off at first. But it quickly escalates to him ditching you and not telling you about attempts to get the Variants killing the Minute Men. 

You could wait and see if it’ll fix itself...or you could confront Mobius. 

There really wasn’t much of a choice.

---

“What’s got your TimePad in a fritz?” You asked, crossing your arms and taking your stance.  “I don’t know what yo-” Mobius begins, trying to deny anything being the matter. You’re not sure if it was the look in your eye or whatever’s been eating him up winning after all. Rather than deny anything, he himself takes a stand and crosses his arms too. “You’ve never told me about (Insert you Jet Ski Equivalent Here ) before.” “Well...you never asked.” You reply with a small shrug. There’s a pause as you get lost for a moment, as if you had a thought on the tip of your tongue, but it flees just before you can recognize it. That feeling has been more present lately. Absentmindedly you add, “And I’ve never really given it much thought...”

“Until Loki?”  You nod, “He asks questions.” 

“I ask questions.” He commented. 

“You do. It’s how you got to your ranking, I’m sure. But it’s always been about the job...which is...what there is. What’s the point of me bringing up my interests in a moment on the timeline I can’t be a part of other than admiring it from far away?” You inquire. 

“The point is...you told Loki before telling me!” 

“Don’t you like Loki?” You asked with a raised, confused eyebrow.

“Do you like him?” He counters.

“I asked first.” 

“I ask..” He pauses to think of something to answer with, “with authority!” 

You scoff and roll your eyes, not completely believing you’re even having this conversation. You’re about to rebuttal, until it hits you. You pause and eye Mobius up and down before asking, “Are you jealous?”

His scoff came out with a fake laugh as he tried to play it off. You weren’t buying it anymore though, as all the moments of him behaving weirdly in the past couple of days now began to make more sense. 

“I...am just...worried!” 

“Worried?” You echo. 

“Yes! That Loki...has...manipulated you. Got into your head. That’s all.” He tries so hard to be nonchalant about it. 

“He hasn’t,” You assure him. You see his shoulders relax, and if he had been a bit more mature about this, maybe you wouldn’t have said your next line. But you did anyway, “I just let him into my bed.” 

As Mobius sputtered and struggled to get a response, you try to decide what happens next. 

You decide to put him out of his misery, and perhaps stop Loki from getting pruned, by saying, “I’m kidding! I doubt he could keep his mouth shut about it and I’d never live down B-15 or Renslayer’s look of ‘you could do so much better’.”

That seemed to quell him, if only slightly. He tries to readjust his tie but you’re sure Loki had already done so earlier in the morning. He asks, “How about you and I get together off of duty? Talk about Jet skis and (Insert Your Jet Ski Equivalent)?” 

“So you could manipulate yourself into my bed?” You ask with a playful smirk. 

He doesn’t deny it, instead he matches your smirk and says, “I’d rather call it wooing.”  

“Wooing?” You repeat, but smiling at him nonetheless.

“Yeah...unless you wanna invite Loki.” He chimes in childishly. 

“Let me see if your wooing’s any good before we get adventurous. You can ask him for tips if our first date is a complete disaster.” 

“Date? Like a date-date?”

“Make me regret it and I’ll shamelessly flirt with him the next mission.” You ‘threaten’. 

“His ego doesn’t need the boost and mine doesn’t need the hit.”

“There you two are! Enough love bird chitchat, I’ve got a new idea!” Loki declared as he found them. 

[chibichibisha]

Are you ever going to tells us how ermine and deuce first met/how they fell in love, and possibly headcanons?

*CRACKS KNUCKLES* Thanks for indulging me in my ship 💖😭

Disclaimer: This is based on my own universe so some of the stuff mentioned there are part of the cards I'm doing for them, it's full of headcanons too for sure even if I try to stick to canon material as much as I can. The romantic relationship of my oc's are not actually implied or appear directly on cards, so this is me sharing what actually happens outside that! It's quite long lmao

Deuce and Ace first see Ermine at the welcome party the first years have after the ceremonial entrance. They later meet him better on Heartslabyul chapter, as he is still at Riddle's side during the dorm incident, and they do not talk personally or directly. It's when Trey tells them about Riddle's situation and Ermine's first year at the school that they understand that Ermine is just behaving how he is supposed to behave, and it's not the real him. They are the ones that save him, along with all the other residents as well, from Riddle's tyrannical reign and it's when Ermine drops the facade and really shows how he was hurting.

They later have the opportunity to see how Ermine is outside the dorm duties, and they realize Ermine is not at all cool: he looks stressed and panicking all the time, and running everywhere. He also seems very scared of certain students that seem violent. One of these times is when he sees Deuce revert to his delinquent side and lose his cool and since then, Ermine gets terrified of him.

On Ermine's Gym uniform card, Ace mentions Ermine always runs away when he sees Deuce outside the dorm, because of this, and Deuce seems to feel a bit guilty because he really didn't want to scare him off. From then, he tries to be polite and nice with Ermine to show that he is actually a nice guy.

The moment they start to approach a bit more is when an unbirthday party approaches, and Deuce needs to get better at maths, or he won't be able to attend the game nor the party (The story of their dorm uniform cards). Riddle lends him one of his notebooks for study, and Ermine tutores him to help him, because he sees it like part of a dorm obligation at first. Deuce gets happy about it since it's a good opportunity to show he can be a good student and not a scary guy, and he is able to make Ermine behave more like he truly is, and not the "perfect attendant" persona he picks up there.

He respects and holds Ermine in a very good opinion since then, and them, with Ace, start to hang out more too. So it's a natural process of them becoming friends, honestly. The first who falls for the other is Deuce, definitely, and he doesn't even realize first. It has to be Ace the one that jokingly tells him "you surely likes Ermine-senpai more than what you realiza, huh?" which makes Deuce think for a moment, and react with a "Maybe" while Ace jolt surprised. Deuce naturally accepts it in a way. He never fell in love before, he cannot even talk to girls and at first, Ermine didn't even approach him, so he didn't know how it was supposed to be. If the case is that he may like Ermine more than a friend, he is good with it. He is pretty positive, honestly.

But Deuce is not experienced in this, so whenever he tries to make a step, he becomes too embarrassed and Ermine doesn't understand anything, he tries him as he is being an idiot. Fortunately, Deuce is best when he doesn't think too much about stuff, so he ends up being very smooth and flirty when he doesn't intend it. Since Ermine keeps tutoring Deuce because they work well together, Deuce may comment on stuff in a sweet or endearing way that makes Ermine embarrassed. He will stare at him unintentionally or mention that he looks cute that day, just for Ermine to get red and kind of annoyed because he is not taking it seriously, but it's affecting him.

Ermine only starts to consider something like this when Deuce gets used to getting giddy about being with Ermine, showing that off, and admitting, confessing, that he indeed likes him for real. And that makes Ermine reject any type of feeling he might start to have knowing this, because he had always been very dishonest about what he really wanted, and this is no exception. Deuce may say he likes him, but Ermine is not gonna let it happen. Also, he doesn't have very good self-esteem, and Deuce is definitely a good guy, it wouldn't even work.

That doesn't mean, though, that he doesn't think about it, and starts to fall for Deuce' sweet side as well.

The first moment he begins to accept it a bit is during the VDC and the culture festival. Deuce spends two weeks preparing for that and Ermine realizes how different it feels without having Deuce around, which makes him longer a bit for the feelings. He is a bit busy himself so he tries to not think much about it. But when he hears from Riddle that Deuce broke the rules and got out of campus with Epel, he panics a little bit because he doesn't know anything. It's really the only moment there is a misunderstanding between them, because Ermine feels bad during all that, until he is able to talk directly to Deuce, and he does, of course. For the first time he has the courage to really ask him if Duece got tired of the thing they might have, whatever it is, because Ermine is always backing up from that, and if it's the case, he should be saying him clearly. Deuce doesn't understand at first, but when Ermine mentions Epel, he kind of gets it, even if Ermine is not explaining himself clearly. He apologizes because he should have talked clearly to Ermine earlier, but didn't know how to do it. It's okay because Ermine actually trusts Deuce after all that, and that is when it is still a bit unresolved, but they somehow know they like each other.

The flirty shenanigans keep going, with Deuce telling Ermine that he will do his best if Ermine ever let him, until the Star Sending happens and Ermine knows how work Deuce works for the festival to happen, protecting the tree and the stars and practicing hard for the dance, that Ermine realize he really fell after all for Deuce. Looking at him like that makes him feel kind of proud and he finds him cool, he is drawn to him. At this point, he doesn't want to run away anymore from it, he just wants to be with Deuce. So after the festival, when everything is over, he approaches Deuce with the intention to tell him something, he doesn't know what exactly tho. But instead of that, he just kisses Deuce for the first time and tells him he did a really good job. It leaves Deuce speechless, but seconds later he is just too happy about it.

Some dating Deumine headcanons:

Their dates are mostly study dates, to be honest. None of them see this as a problem because, actually, they like to hang out alone, and just talk. Deuce wants to get Ermine into dates outside campus though, and give him magical wheels rides.

He actually did this on Ermine's birthday.

Deuce is definitely more open about it. Once he passes the questioning phase of him liking someone (and a guy, but that's not exactly that important) and that makes him feel embarrassed, he is the type to talk about how cute his partner is and how happy he is around him, because he is really an honest guy.

Ermine on the other hand, is much more introverted about it and even if he is pretty much in love with Deuce, he is still embarrassed and running away from those praises. He doesn't do well with them.

Also yes, Deuce is the more touchy one. He hugs and kisses Ermine most of the time, while Ermine is the type to lean in against Deuce or pull his sleeve. He gives Deuce shy kisses and is much more cuddly as well if he is in the mood.

Ermine finds it endearing that Deuce likes lil chickens and eggs. Yuu told them that there's a festivity in the world where they come from where people believe a rabbit brings colorful eggs to kids. It sounds too crazy for Ermine but Deuce loves the idea.

Deuce is sometimes the intense guy type, and he will mention that he would marry Ermine in a heartbeat, which makes Ermine to call him an idiot, but it affects him.

Everyone in Heartslsabyul knows they are dating because they never intended to keep it a secret. But that just leads to some embarrassing moments of Cater mentioning them being a couple.

Deuce always wants to show how he is able to take care of Ermine whenever he needs it, and how is okay with Ermine being the way he is. He wants to be seen reliable and as cool as he sees Ermine, so that just fuels his goal of being a honor students more. Ermine supports him, of course.

Deuce talked to his mom about Ermine and she can't believe her son is dating someone, she definitely wants to meet him. From Ermine' side, he just told his big sister, and she is also supportive. On the future, Deuce's mom and Ermine's big sister are the ones who helps them the most.

They are the most sweet and lovey dovey when they both are alone.

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Fighting and Making Up” -The Pack Preference

Request:  For preferences you could do a two part of what y’all get into fights about and then make up.

        I wasn’t sure how to do this exactly, but I wanted to keep it lighthearted! I hope you enjoy :) 

Jacob: 

It isn’t something that happens often, but when it does Jake has no issue telling you that you done messed up. 

“Why didn’t you tell me there was a problem with your car?” 

“Because you’re so busy, I know you’re tired from patrol and hanging out with me. I didn’t want to bother you.” I say looking down at my feet. 

“Well, now it’s worse and needs more work. Don’t wait to tell me when something is wrong.” He shakes his head in disappointment. 

It doesn’t get very intense, he just usually gives a mini lecture about how damaging it is to my car. Not yelling, but the disappointed, annoyed tone someone gives when they don’t wanna yell. 

It’s usually making up by sitting in the garage, bonding over fixing whatever is wrong with the car. Keeping each other company, talking, and eating snacks. 

Seth: 

Seth is a loving boyfriend, caring way more than you thought was possible. He gets upset with you when you get sick but push it off. It causes some tension and frustration because he doesn’t like seeing you like that. 

“Please, my mom is a nurse. Let her look at you.” He pleads.

“Seth, it’s just a cold! I’ll be okay.” I reason.

“You don’t know that, it could be anything.” He pouts. 

Eventually, a few days pass and you end up being worse instead of better.

“Maybe if you had listened to me the other day you wouldn’t be this sick.” He says, making you your favorite soup. 

A lot of times he’s just more upset that you won’t make it easier on yourself. It usually starts out with an argument like one above, but you guys make up as he takes care of you, refusing to leave your side. He makes sure you take your medicine, makes sure you get rest, and is always ready to bring you food and water. Oh, and a lot of cuddles, can’t forget the cuddles. 

Leah:

Leah and you don’t fight often, but it’s often when you overwork yourself or spread yourself too thin. 

“(Y/N), why did you say you can cover their shift? You’re already working a shift that day, call them back and tell them you can’t. Plus you agreed to help Seth with his math homework tomorrow morning. And you agreed to volunteer at the shelter. Plus you need to do your paper and study for your final, it’s your senior year of college.” She says, frustrated. 

“Leah, you know I can’t say no. They need my help!” I defend. 

“I know, but you can’t do it all! You need to take care of yourself, make sure that you’re helping yourself. You’re making yourself sick with how much you’re doing…” She grabs for my hand. 

“I know, I know. I can’t help it, I hate saying no.” Tears brimming my eyes. 

“I’m not trying to make you sad, you’re just spreading yourself too thin. I hate seeing you like this, you’re ready to explode at the drop of a hat.” She pulls me into a hug. 

“I know, I don’t know how to fix it.” I let the tears fall. 

“I’ll help you. We’ll get you through this, but next time-- don’t do this to yourself.” She smiles, kissing me on the forehead. 

Afterwards she helps you get your stuff done, helping take the stress off your shoulders. Though, she reminds you constantly to stop taking so many things on at once. The night is usually filled with hot chocolate and cuddling by the fire, including long and loving kisses. 

Paul:

It was no secret that Paul always had the hardest time out of everyone in controlling his temper. Though, after he imprinted on you it did improve vastly. The only issue with this is that now he was a ticking time bomb when it came to the subject of you. He was one of the most emotional and caring people you’ve ever met-- which is why he had such a hard time controlling his temper at times. It happens every once in a while where he gets too jealous/protective over you and goes off the deep end, just a bit. It usually goes something like this:

“Paul, stop being pissed off.” I sigh, walking in our front door from the party we just had to leave. 

“No, did you see the way he looked at you? He hugged you for way too long. You don’t get the way he looked at you. If I wasn’t right there he would’ve absolutely tried something.” He huffs.

“Paul, he was my chemistry partner from a class three years ago. He was just saying hello. That’s the first and only time I’ve seen him since high school. He just hugged me hello, albeit very long but… you’re the only one I see.” I look deep into his eyes. 

“You didn’t hear what he said before he came up to you! He told his friend that he used to wanna get you in bed, and then said he still would. I just hate seeing other people look at you like you’re an object.” He walks over, hugging me. 

“Well, Paul you can’t fight everyone who checks me out or says something in poor taste.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I just lose it sometimes when it comes to you.” He sighs, closing his eyes. 

“I know, I know it’s because you care. I love you, Paul.” 

“I love you, too.” He kisses my forehead, pulling me into a tighter hug. 

Lots of cuddling and snacks ensue, by the end of the night you guys always make up. 

Embry: 

Embry and you have been inseparable since you were kids. You guys dated before his phasing, and thankfully he imprinted on you. He was always overprotective, worried about everything you did from day one, and now that he’s phased and imprinted, he knows the real dangers out there and his feelings have only gotten more intense. It’s not always an argument per se, but it usually ends with him worried when you go out into the woods alone or just with one of your friends. 

“Embry, she just wanted to go on a small hike. It wasn’t even at night.” 

“(Y/N), it doesn’t matter if it’s day or night. You should’ve told me so I knew to make sure nothing happened to you, I can’t fathom what I would do if something happened to you.” He trails off. 

“I understand, but I didn’t know we were going into the woods. She just asked me to go while we were at her house, it was just the woods behind her house. I didn’t know I was going to or I would’ve mentioned it.” 

“Well, you went pretty deep for Quil to find you on patrol. I just need to make sure you’re safe, I can’t let anything happen to you.” His voice trails off. 

“I didn’t realize how far we went until after. I’m sorry, Em. I can’t exactly say anything about vampires or the pack to her. I didn’t mean to upset you, it was just a nice day to take some pictures.” I look down at my feet. 

“I understand, I’m sorry for getting so upset with you. Just try to send me, or all of us, a text. Just in case. I need to make sure you’re safe, always. I love you.” He kisses my forehead. 

“I will, I’m sorry again. I love you, too.” I push myself further into his chest. 

It doesn’t happen often, but if it does you guys make up and often lay in bed listening to your favorite music. A lot of cuddling, talking about how much you mean to each other, and back scratches. 

  Jared: 

Jared doesn’t really argue, he’s a snarky guy but overall one of the sweetest people ever. The one thing that always gets under your skin though is whenever you guys have somewhere to be or something to do, he always needs “five more minutes” to wake up. This wouldn’t always be such a huge deal if it was actually five more minutes, but after ten of those you’re set back almost an hour. 

“Jared. Get up, for real.” You throw a pillow at his sleeping body.

“Five more minutes.” He grumbles, clutching the pillow close to his body.

“You said that an hour ago! We’re going to be late.” You huff, getting onto the bed. 

“Don’t do it.” He pleads.

“Too bad.” You say, jumping on the bed.

You then have to deal with grumpy Jared for the duration of him waking up and getting ready to go, but he makes up for it by apologizing and leaving kisses all over your face before you leave, only making you later. He gets you your favorite snacks on the way home.  

“I won’t do it next time, babe.” He says as we walk out to the car to leave.

“Mhm, okay. You say that every time.” You laugh.

You buy him an alarm clock for Christmas. You buy another for his birthday. He keeps throwing them out.

Quil: 

While with the pack you were always witty due to your comfort levels, you didn’t always behave that way. You were always meek and nervous with confrontation with others. It all started in high school where Quil would get upset that you would let people talk to or treat you a certain way, earning no backlash from yourself. Quil began to stick up for you, smart mouth and all. It has lasted all through the years, even when someone was rude at the grocery store. 

“Quil, you don’t have to do that.” 

“Yes I do. You don’t stick up for yourself, it’s horrible. You need to stop letting people talk to you like that. I can’t sit there and let you take it.” He argues.

“Okay, but did you have to tell him that he looks like his mom huffed gasoline when she was pregnant? What does that even mean? What if she did?” I ask, astonished after the incident. 

“I did, I told him the truth. A lot of nerve for him to think he can say anything about you.” He scoffs. 

“Quil… I just ignore them because it’s easier, it’s so much easier than to get so angry.” 

“I get angry for you, it works. I love you, I can’t sit and let someone disrespect you.”

“I love you, too. Just chill out sometimes, okay?”

“We can agree to disagree, I can’t let someone disrespect my girlfriend. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” He kisses my cheek before pulling me over to our bed. 

After these kinds of situations, it usually ends with a lot of cuddling and watching funny movies to make us feel a little better. 

Sam: 

When you take too long to get ready and make a mess in the bathroom with all of your cosmetics he tends to get upset, especially when he has to get in there to get ready, too. 

“Please at least let me pee, you’ve been getting ready for an hour.” “I’ll be out in a minute!” I yell back through the door. 

“You said that ten minutes ago! What else could you possibly be doing?” He knocks again. 

“You can’t rush beauty, Sam.” I open the door. 

“You don’t need to spend an hour of your time to look beautiful, you look amazing when you wake up. But let me pee, now.” He runs into the bathroom, frustrated with how long he’s had to wait. 

“Thank you, Sam.” I blush from outside the bathroom door. 

Sam always respects the fact that you like to get dolled up sometimes before certain events, but cannot help but be frustrated at how long it takes you. It’s always a “just a minute!” from you, as you hog the bathroom counter. You make it up to him by not only cleaning the bathroom up immediately, but by giving him a sweet kiss. After you guys return, you cuddle and watch movies. You give him back rubs and spoil him with affection, promising to get ready quicker next time. 

__________________________

Word Count: 2028

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing I

A/N: This is you and your ex, (Detective) Harry, winding up in each other’s lives again after a traumatic event in your life. I’ve had this idea in my notes app for like a year, and I just decided to go for it this week! It’s a little all over the place as I set it up but I think the next part will go a lot better if you can stick with it (and I appreciate you if you can <3).

Warnings: Violence (guns), PTSD?

Part 1 / (.5) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

------------------------------------------

I had booked Thursday and Friday off in advance. I made sure my e-mails were forwarded, my clients were told I wouldn't be in, and any internal matters were allocated to my assistant. It was going to be a relaxing long weekend where I could have a homemade meal for once and watch Netflix all day. I was my branch’s youngest director and even though it was a fulfilling job, I hadn't had a day off since I got the position four months ago.

This was probably why, at 9am, I get a call from my assistant. One of our bigger clients was refusing to discuss his loan terms with anyone and wanted to speak to me directly.

"Tell him I'm not in Adam, you shouldn't even be calling me-I have the bloody day off."

"Yess but he said he's coming in at 10 and if you're not here he's switching banks for his personal and business accounts." Adam stuttered. “If you lose this client H-”

"Jesus," I look at my outfit and the time-I barely had any time to make it to the bank; it took me 40 minutes just to get to work. "I'll be there-distract him if I'm late. Oh! Ask about his daughter's new private school!"

I rush to my room and apply minimal makeup, pull back my y/h/c hair and throw on my black cigarette pants and a blazer. I'm halfway down the lift when I realise I was still in my t-shirt. "Shite," I mutter. I button the blazer and put my scarf around my neck so it's covered. That was decent enough for my day off.

I arrive breathless and sweaty 5 minutes early to the bank despite the cool weather. Might have seemed like a win if that wasn’t when everything went downhill. Just as I walk up to the side door, waving at Adam who was walking out to greet me, a crash from the entrance startles me.

"Hands up!” A loud voice booms from behind me. “Don't touch a fucking thing!" I turn, seeing Adam’s shocked expression, just in time to be shoved to the floor by four people dressed all in black, and wearing celebrity masks. In all my time working here, I’d never been part of a bank heist and some part of me is frozen, mind blank. I wasn’t even supposed to be here!

"I said to put your hands up!" The one with a Brad Pitt face points the gun around the room as people scramble for cover. I inch backwards to the counter as I watch them manhandle the customers and pull our bankers to the floor. I release a breath, trying to snap out of the shock I seemed to be in. The base of a column digs into my back and I focus on that to ground myself, scanning each robber, and where my employees were. Adam has his hands on his head, the closest one to me. I try to catch his eye to reassure him but he’s squeezing them tight. I didn’t blame him, Brad Pitt stands over him menacingly. I look to the customers, they weren’t trying to be smart--that was good. I’d watched enough TV to know that was never a smart move.

Just as I think that, from the corner of my eye, I catch Cole, one of our guards reach for his gun. A loud shot echoes through the small space and I swivel my head trying to see what's happened while making sure everyone was okay. The thief wearing a Kanye West mask, manning the front entrance of the bank, had shot Cole in the arm and he was bleeding all over the floor. My first instinct is to help him but I'm yanked back down before I make it a step.

"We’re not missing the next person who moves a muscle. I want you all to drop your phones in the middle! No. Fucking. Funny business." The thief who shot Cole points his gun to all of us and it takes all of me to not hyperventilate. I hear a few people crying but I don't dare look. Instead, I watch on as David Beckham drags Cole to the side and ties his hands behind him. I can see by the wincing that they didn’t care whether they twisted his arms too hard. This wasn’t a petty robbery, they were hardcore.

"Who has the passcode to the vault?" Brad Pitt asks as one of his friends goes around zip tying everybody's hands behind them. When nobody answers he shoves the gun in Adam’s face and I let out a sob. What did we do to deserve this?

"Me," I choke out. “Don’t hurt him, I have the passcode. I know it.”

"You?" The man asks. "You better not be lying bitch or you'll be joining your friend there."

I nod as he pulls me up by the arm and uses my scarf to tie my hands. I try to stay calm, the only way I could get through this before the police arrived was to keep my calm. Everything in me is screaming to do something--fight, scream, swear, cry, but I keep my mouth shut and follow Brad Pitt and the joker to the back. I'm led at gunpoint to the vault and they untie me so I can put in the code and my thumbprint. The one in a Joker mask presses her gun into my back and I know the least of my worries was a bruise but that was the only thing I could focus on.

She shoves me forward when I pause, hovering my finger over the finger pad, in the distance I hear sirens. Please let us all be okay, I pray.

"Don’t be a fucking hero, let’s go!" The female behind me yells in my ear and I rush to press my thumb.

As soon as I finish the procedure, I feel an explosion like fireworks against the side of my head and everything goes dark.

H POV:

I walked into the station around 10, just having come back from a nearby escalated domestic call. It wasn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever been involved in at 10am on a Thursday morning.

"Harry, there seems to be some sort of commotion near Holborn, the director wants you in his office." Serena, the receptionist tells me gravely. I don’t even consider the street, assuming it would be another criminal to go after. But when I go into the office, we get the rundown: there was a robbery happening at the HSBC. That’s when I understand the gravity of the situation.

"We’ve sent a few men right now, they seemed to be armed so proceed with caution." He warns. I had been on the force for over four years; I moved rank fast and knew how to handle myself so the warning was mostly for the junior constables. But my heart thuds violently in my chest when I think about the possibility...no. I had to focus. But I can’t help but try her cell on our way to the scene. When it continues to ring, my thoughts go to the worse place possible. I know I hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a year, like she wanted, but if anything happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

When we arrive at the scene, the thieves are still inside. I make sure nobody makes any moves, following protocol, and trying to gauge the exact situation inside. But before I could give orders, a man holding up his zip-tied hands shuffles out of the building. I notice the terror on his face and the fact that he's not armed.

"Down!" I say. The restless energy building up inside of me makes every move feel frantic.

"They left out the back! They left!" The man's shaky voice reaches our ears. I gesture a few of the officers to head around back and radio in the update.

"Get his statement, be sensitive,” I snap at the closest officer before I take a few of my officers indoors. The scene inside only reminds me why I do what I do, there's glass on the floor, phones in a pile and bullets littering the floor. Everyone looks shocked, people are crying, and a man in the corner is bleeding profusely.I scan all their faces but I don’t see her. I pray that she might have taken the day off today or something, even though I knew she rarely every did. Where was she?

"Medical," I order. I face the crowd, "You're all alright, If everyone can slowly get up and follow Officer McGregor out, we'll see that your belongings are returned to you and collect statements later. You’re all alright now."

"Sir," a bloke off to the side steps forward from the group getting up. "Our manager was taken to the back...we're not sure how she is, she hasn't come out...”

I reassure the crowd she should be fine. I didn't want them to see me panic, not to mention if we had any casualty the press outside were going to bombard this crowd with insensitive questions and I really wanted to keep this on the low. I was considered young for a DCI and any screw up meant I took it twice as hard. And I didn’t know if I could behave normally if I didn’t find her in any way except breathing. I put on my brave face.

I get an officer to stand by and venture cautiously into the back, spotting an open vault. I hurry into the area when I spot her, laying motionless on the floor.

“Y/N,” I rush forward, skidding on my knees to check on her. “Pleasepleaseplease.” I put my fingers to her pulse and nearly shout in relief. She was alive! I send a thanks out into the universe, to whoever was watching over her. “Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?”

Her eyes flutter under her lids. I turn her gently onto her back, she was wearing a Green Day t-shirt under a smart jacket and trousers--that was unlike her. She always dressed very smart. I gently remove her short strands off her face to reveal a nasty bruise on the side of her head. I try to stifle my heartbeat; it scared me seeing her like this. I’m about to call my officer but her long lashes flutter and suddenly she's looking at me, dazed.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" I inquire. She blinks, and then again, her eyebrows drawn together as she stares at me. I try again, “Y/N, answer me please! Are you alright?”

"I...do I...bloody look alright? Where did they go?" She snaps out of her daze and tries to sit up but her hand goes to her head which must be throbbing. I place a hand on her back so she doesn't fall back down.

"Oh thank god,” I sigh in relief, she could talk. She was alright. “Th-they’'ve managed to escape. We'll deal with that. You were knocked unconscious so we should get you checked-”

"Those bastards," she snarls. I bite back a chuckle as I help her up. She pushes me away as soon as she's on her feet. "I wasn't even supposed to bloody be here today you know that? It was my day off and....Jesus.” She clutches her forehead. “How's everyone else? Chris? Adam?"

"Everyone is fine, your guard’s being taken to hospital. Everyone else is untouched, we need to have you checked out though." I am mesmerized, as always, by her ability to talk about ten things at once.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s my case, I guess,” I tell her, expecting the question. She scowls. “I’ll have to ask you some questions later, but Y/N we need to have your head checked.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she mumbles.

“You’re proving by the second that you’re quite alright but we’ve got to get you to a medic anyway,” I gesture forward so she can walk ahead of me. I didn’t want her falling or anything. The constable at the door watches her walk out and eyes me warily.

"She need her statement taken chief?"

"I'll take her down to the station myself--she's hurt." I dismiss the officer and follow Y/N out. I wanted to keep an eye on her right now. “Can I help you walk?”

“My legs are working fine,” she snarls whilst clutching her forehead.

Your POV:

I could not believe today's turn of events. I was supposed to have a relaxing day off but instead, I’m rushed to work so I could be held up by thieves, forced to help them rob my branch, only to be mildly concussed. And the person on the case is none other than my ex-husband Harry Styles.

The only thing going for me is that I don't cry easily (or i would be a sniffling mess right now). And Harry was the last person I wanted to cry in front of although he’s seen me at much worse. I push aside those memories, ignoring his lingering eyes and try to walk ahead of him.

I cover up my shaking hands by stuffing them under the blanket I'm wrapped in when Harry leads me to the ambulance. He stays to the side while the medic goes through a questionnaire and informs me on what I need to know about being mildly concussed. All I could think about is the feeling of a gun pressed to the small of back, the chill of it through fabric. 

"Miss?" The medic asks.

"Sorry, I got it. Yes. Thank you."

"I asked how you got here?" The medic begins to look concerned. Shit. I did not want more attention.

"I...meant I got what you were saying. Sorry, I rode the tube in."

"Great. You can ride with me to the station," Harry says from the side. I avoid his gaze but I have to agree. There was no way I was taking the tube during a time like this. I had a concussion.

So I'm sat in the back whilst Harry drives with his partner. I catch Harry glancing in the rear-view more often than he should and when we make eye contact, he gives me a reassuring smile. But sitting in the back of the car, I feel like the metal tip of a gun still keeps my spine straight. My lungs feel like they're not expanding large enough for air and I clutch the seatbelt strapping me in. I try to name all the countries I could remember--a coping technique I’d used since I was a kid to try and distract myself.

"You alright miss?" The other officer sounds concerned.

"Yeah," I choke out. "Just a little stuffy back here."

"Oh ‘m sorry," Harry opens the back window and I greedily gulp the fresh air coming in. My panic subsides and I settle back into the seat.

*

"And that's all you remember?" Harry sits on the desk chair next to me even though his own seat remains empty behind the desk.

"Exactly as I've told you, like, 20 times Harry."

It was now two hours later; I'd sat waiting for an hour before receiving my phone only to find multiple calls from the bank’s higher-ups. After dealing with them, I had to wait another half hour before finally being interviewed. I proceeded to drink two cups of bad coffee while giving every detail of what I remember, their masks, and so on. Every time I said something that could help, Harry would backtrack and I would explain it three different ways. It was frustrating and the repetition kicked my anxiety up so that I was on the edge of a breakdown. I grip the arms of the chair and respond to Harry. "Listen, alright, why would I not be telling you the full story? Of course that's all I bloody remember! It's not like I had an out-of-body experience and I saw them leave through the back door.”

"I'm sorry Y/N, it's just routine." Harry keeps a straight face on.  "We have a few suspicions we're trying to corroborate by interviewing everyone involved. I promise I’m just being thorough-"

"Yeah yeah alright, you sound like you're reading from a bloody manual," I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh into the silence. When Harry doesn't say anything, I look up to see him watching me with an amused expression.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"It’s been a while...I forgot how charming you can be.”

“What can I say, you bring it out in me.”

"Very interesting outfit by the way," he takes my snark in stride, gesturing to my outfit with his pen instead. I cross my arms in front of me. He's still got the stupid expression on his face, it looks unchanged from the one he used to give me once upon a time. When he found something I did funny but in a loveable way; the feelings that surface are almost unbearable.

"Don’t judge my outfit, I had to rush to work for our client meet-oh shit." I pull out my phone and check my email but there's nothing from the client. Probably avoiding the shit show. I notice the time, with all the time I’d wasted today I may as well not have taken the day off at all.

"So you weren't meant to be at work today except for this client? Bad timing isn’t it." Harry reads to himself from his notes. I stare at him, wishing I could burn a hole into his skull to see if he really had a brain in there.

"I've told you this five times before, Harry. You're literally reading from your notes. If you're just going to ask the same questions over and over I’m sure you can find the answers in there and I can go home."

"Right but something doesn't add up, I just want to make sure I have all the details."

"Do I have to be here to watch you do your mental maths?" I wasn't very nice when anxiety and frustration became my base emotions. But Harry knew that.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised at my snark. "I'm sure that you want to get to the bottom of this just as much as I do-"

"But that's not my job," I remind him. "That's yours. I've done mine, and I'd really just like to go home." My voice cracks, and I feel a rush of embarrassment.

"How about I drop you off home? I can walk through the day with you once more during the drive?”

He looks at me expectantly, “I’d rather stab myself in the eye.”

"Best not to with the concussion,” Harry pushes my buttons, and I’m kind of surprised. The last time we saw each other he’d been accommodating to my anger but he was pushing back today. Like he used to when we were together when he riled me up simply because he found it amusing.

When I scowl though, he gets serious. “Y/N, just let me give you a ride home and we can talk more.”

I didn’t want to stand around arguing, I was tired, so I just agree. He smiles, his dimples making a pretty appearance. Damn him.

H POV:

I’m surprised she agrees to ride home with me. I knew Y/N had a stubborn streak and giving in to my offer was new. She’d made it clear last time we saw each other that she wanted nothing to do with me. I was also curious to know where she lived, I’d only been to her office once since we’d split. And that was usually to drop off papers.

She actually answers my questions on the drive, albeit they’re one word answers, but she gives me space to talk out some theories I had. But she also disagrees with most of them, pointing out their flaws. The comfortable back-and-forth between us is bittersweet. This was why we were married once upon a time. We worked well together; after all, we’d been friends for years before dating the other. It was the friendship I missed the most when I thought about us.

When we drive up to her address, it’s a townhome in a decent part of the city. Her promotion clearly had its perks.

I leap out of the car to open her door before she could but she beats me to it, scowling at me as she realises what I was trying to do.

“So you live here?” I try to ease into a conversation, get her to open up, ask her how she was doing. But she looks at me like I’d asked a stupid question, waving her keys.

“You’re kind of dense for a detective,” she says when I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Forget I asked,” getting personal was useless.

“Done.” She always manages to get the last word. She climbs her steps but I follow her up. She eyes me as she finds the correct one on her key ring. “What?”

“I just-have you got anyone living with you?”

“What’s that got to do with the case?” She asks, her defenses going up.

“You’re concussed, it’s best you have someone with you for the next 24 hours like the med-”

“I’ll be fine Harry,” her sharp edges soften but still, she only opens her door wide enough to step through. I can barely see anything behind her except for a hall.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” I try again.

“Nice of you to care,” the way she says it implies a deeper meaning, one that borders on a dangerous topic.

“I’m serious Y/N, this--a concussion’s no joke. And it was traumatic what you went through you really shouldn’t-”

“I’ve been on my own for a while now, I’ll be okay.” There she goes having the last word again. I raise my hands and back off.

“If you say so. I’ll...head back to the station but if you need anything, well, you know how to reach me.”

She nods, closing the door softly behind her. I sigh, it was a whirlwind last few hours but I was just grateful Y/N was going to be okay. I know she hated me, but I still cared about her. It was hard not to. We’d known each other for over a decade, and even though I hurt her in our past, and she might not agree with me, I cared. Caring about her didn’t have an on/off switch. I only wanted her to be okay. Maybe even happy.

Y POV:

I go through the motions for the rest of the afternoon, mostly I sit zoned out in front of the window while the morning plays like a loop in my head. Something about having your life hang in the balance of a stranger’s pointer finger made it feel so fragile. It unraveled me, and I can’t focus on anything. I just keep feeling the gun on my back, and smashing against the side of my head.

I keep my head iced, and avoid screens except to send out a couple emails and to call my sister after 8 voice messages that progresses from panic after hearing the news to annoyance as I don’t respond. When she finds out Harry’s on the case she swears.

“That bastard,” I can see her face in my mind, the one where she pursues her lips like mum used to. “You should report him, conflict of interest right? It’s traumatic enough what you’ve been through, you poor thing. I was just talking to Lewis and he said I should come down to stay with you this weekend-”

“That’s really alright,” I nip the idea in the bud. I loved my sister dearly but she was an overly anxious person and I don’t think that would be helpful for me right now. “It’s just a mild concussion, the medic said I should be cleared after 24 hours so it would only be a hassle for you to come down here.”

“Alright,” she says grudgingly. “But you say the word and I’m on the first train out. And I’ll give that ex of yours an earful if he’s anywhere near you again.”

I smile at my sister’s overprotective nature, “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage that fine on my own.”

“That you can,” she laughs.

But when I put down the phone, the silence creeps in again. And normally I loved the quiet but like a broken record player, the voices and sounds from this morning continue to play in a loop in the silence.

I give up after 7 and start preparing for bed. But a call interrupts my nightly routine.

“Y/N,” it’s Harry. “It’s me, Harry.”

“I do have call display,” I say dryly.

“Right, I...wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

“Is this about the case?” I was hoping he was calling to say the bastards were caught.

“Oh...not exactly. I was wondering if you’ve fed yourself. I’m in your area for work, it’s my last call. I thought I could bring you some takeout or...?”

“I was about to get ready for bed.” I reply.

“Oh. That’s early? Have you had dinner?”

I think about the pathetic cheese toast I’d managed to make. My stomach growls thinking about food, I didn’t seem to have an appetite until he’s said something. “Fine, only if you’re in my area.”

Surely, not even 10 minutes go by and by doorbell rings. Harry stands outside with a takeout bag, his pressed shirt from this morning is more rumpled with a few buttons undone.

“I parked on the street--is that alright?”

“I guess? You’re just here to drop this off.” I shrug.

“Actually I uh, I thought I’d keep you some company.”

“I...” I don’t know if I should be offended. “I don’t need company. I only agreed to the takeout.”

“I’m part of the package,” he hides the bag behind him, a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes, it was too late to do this with him.

So I leave the door open and head inside, tightening my robe around me. Harry was part of my past and having him here, in the place I’d built myself back again, feels wrong. This was where I’d shed the identity of being a divorcee before 30, and here he was. When I turn to see why he was so quiet, I find him scanning my gallery wall and smiling at the pictures.

“Hey, I’m on here,” he points to a small group picture.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I walk back to him to get the food. “I just looked good there.”

It was a shot from my sister’s wedding, Harry and I with the newlyweds. It was taken a few weeks before we’d made us official actually--moving from friends to lovers was maybe one of the bigger mistake I’d made in life. Another was agreeing to marry him.

“I look pretty good too,” he leans in closer. I ignore him and take the cartons of Chinese out and grab cutlery. He joins me, I hand him a beer and take a sparkling water for myself. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Okay,” I shrug. “Just sorting through it all. Trying to avoid screens, all that.”

“That’s good,” he steals a chicken from the container I’m dumping into my plate. I eye him but he just grins, chewed food between his cheeks. I let it slide. “So you’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion or something?”

I sigh, “That’s not true, I only have a mild concussion!”

“Well I’m not a bloody doctor!”

“Thank god for that.”

“You’ll never stop doing that will you?” He rubs his chopsticks together and attempts to eat with him. “Always so snarky.”

“I can’t help it,” I continue to watch him fail with his chopsticks and pick up a fork. “It sustains me.”

“You should try being nice for once.”

“Tried it once, didn’t work out well for me. So...here I am.”

I was being passive, I knew that. He knew that with the way he eyes me over his food. He keeps quiet though, knowing there was nothing he could say in this moment to make a difference. We eat in silence until he receives a call and he leaves to take it. I clean up so by the time he gets back I’ve just loaded the dishwasher.

“I know the sleep thing’s not true for you,” Harry says as he approaches. “But I think I should stay here overnight. Just to make sure you’re-”

“No,” I cross my arms. “There’s no reason for you to stay the night Harry. I don’t need you here.”

“It’s for your peace of mind-”

“It’s for your peace of mind Harry. And frankly, I don’t care about your peace of mind. I don’t want you sleeping over, I’m not comfortable with that.”

“Y/N, c’mon! It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we didn’t sleep in the same bed for years--I’ll be sleeping on the couch! You’re not in your best shape and it’s just for a night, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend or something to go home to?” I ask. He shifts his gaze and shakes his head.

“Nope, my bachelor pad just me. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

I dry my hands and watch him, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I knew him well enough to recognise the wide stance, shoulders back, and jut of his chin. He wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t want to hear you, Not even a peep. I’ll make up the couch but this is the one and only time you’re wearing me down, you’re lucky I’m not in the mood to argue-”

“Promise,” he holds his hand up to his chest, a grin on his face knowing he won.

I leave him with a comfortable setup and head up to my own room. There was a spare upstairs but I don’t think I could handle him sleeping next door to me. It was weird how in just one day I’d seen more of him than I had in the last couple years and now he was sleeping in my living room like we were okay. Not like he wasn’t the man who’d broken my trust, and my heart.

As I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep as the day replays in my head, another set of memories infiltrates my mind and keeps me from sleeping. The story of Harry and I, the naive beginning, eventful middle, and heartbreaking end. My mind repeats its history and I don’t fall asleep for hours. When sleep finally comes, my dreams are haunted by the same memories.