#yes we made you cry simply by talking about pasta deal with it

[maraudersoncrack1981]

The Marauders and their favorite pasta types because just yes

James: So James would absolutely ADORE tomato pasta with chorizo through it, especially his Mothers. It's the only thing he will eat with tomatoes in it, he hates anything else, for example, tomato soup, tomato ketchup etc etc..

Sirius: Growing up rich Sirius' family would give him nothing but the best to eat (when they actually did feed him at least) so anytime they were having pasta for dinner it wouldn't be something like penne pasta or spaghetti, it would be squid ink pasta. Obviously, it's quite ironic cause squid ink pasta is black and it's the black family. Regulus HATED it, like really hated it, whenever they had it for dinner he would sneak his share of it onto Sirius' plate, Sirius doesn't like to admit that he loves it, like he can't eat any other type of pasta cause his taste is already used to squid ink.

Peter: Peter LOVES food, but he is a very picky eater, meaning the only Pasta he'll eat is plain, it can't be overcooked and it can't be overcooked or else he'll get the ick and just not eat it. he doesn't have it with sauce, or seasoning. Just. Plain. Pasta.

Remus: Remus doesn't eat pasta anymore but his all-time favorite is the pasta his Mother used to make for him. It always took him back to before he was bit and when he'd be sitting at the kitchen table watching his mother walk around the kitchen like she had been for what felt like a million times trying to make sure everything was cooked properly. After Remus got bit his Mother started to drift away but she still made the pasta just the way Remus loved. When she died, Remus stopped eating pasta cause the memories of his Mother hurt too much.

[lost-between-letters]

The Deal

Pairing: Crowley X Werewolf!SingleParent!Reader (she/her)

Requested by: anon

Word Count: 2,570

Warnings: demon deals, mentions of raw meat, werewolf transformation

Summary: in her desperation, Y/N summoned a demon to carve out a life worth living for her son and herself. She didn't expect him to stick around. Six firsts of their relationship

A/N: I grouped two requests together for this because the prompts fit, I hope that was alright

The first meeting

The flames burned higher than Y/N expected. She started the incantation and fell back on her heels before the fire could lick her face.

While Y/N was reading from the torn paper in her hand, a baby's cry pierced the night air. At last, she closed with a one worded prayer - although this was not the right direction to work into. "Please."

"What can I do for you, Love?"

The man was straightening his cuffs and staring down at her, a business smile on his face.

"Jesus Christ." The curse had slipped past her lips without a thought.

Y/N had figured that a demon would be taller. And more intimidating. She hadn't expected the black suit and glinting eyes with humour dancing in them.

Certainly not him laughing outright. "Quite the opposite, Love. The name's Crowley. But we're not here to talk about religious problems, are we?"

"Uh, no." The friendliness made it even creepier. Y/N felt how clammy her hands were and wiped them off on her jeans.

The baby cried again. It was a heartbreaking noise, a child's call for his mother. And Y/N wanted to wrap him up in the safety of her arms, bury her head in his little neck and promise him a good home. But in order to do that, she would have to seal a deal first.

She raised her chin high and got back up. Being confident was the key now. "I need a place for Fabio and me to live. Safe for us as werewolves and people around."

"And that's everything?" Crowley asked, a schooled expression on his face.

The uncanny feeling that he wouldn't care less if she dropped dead right in front of him drove a shiver down Y/N's back. She had to fight the urge to curl over Fabio and protect him with her body. "Yes. Ten years with my son, protection for the rest of both of our lives and then you get my soul."

"What a sweet deal," Crowley said and clapped his hands in business, "I know the perfect place for you two."

The first home made dinner

Y/N was neck deep in the cupboard while Fabio was wailing in his baby chair. The oregano had been pushed to the very back; she had been trying to retrieve it for the last few frustrating minutes.

And Fabio was hungry. His voice got shriller and shriller and Y/N wanted nothing more than to clamp her hands over her ears and curl into a ball on the ground.

Five days of take out and formula for both of them. Not a moment of peace since they moved into the apartment; there had to be downsides in a demon sponsored building Y/N figured.

"What is it with this child and screaming?"

Y/N froze.

The door had been locked when she had checked it twenty minutes ago. No one was in the apartment aside from her and her son.

Fabio stopped screaming abruptly right as Crowley kept talking. But not with her. "Do you enjoy giving people a headache? Your mum sold her soul for you, I'd be a little more considering."

"What did you do to my son." It wasn't a question. It was a threat.

Y/N turned around, ready to stab the demon with the kitchen knife when she caught sight of Fabio. He was happily suckling on a bland cookie. It was ridiculously big in his hands.

"What you obviously were trying to do." Crowley held up a box full of the same cookies, "Fed him. Now would you get on with the pasta? Your noodle water should be boiling by now."

"I- okay."

It simply did not occur to her to not listen to him. Only when she was cutting up the herbs and mixing them with the tomatoes, Y/N turned to the demon leaning against the refrigerator. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" Crowley asked and threw his hands up as if it was supposed to be obvious.

It was absolutely not obvious. Unless-

"The deal is non negotiable," she stated firmly and hid her shaking hands in her back pockets, "ten years and not a day earlier."

Oddly enough, Crowley merely rolled his eyes. "Calm down Love, I'm a demon of my word. I came to see if you got adjusted just fine. Judging by your horrendous hair and sweet smelling kitchen it's a nice balance of stressed and getting to it, am I right?"

He was. Y/N didn't know if that was unsettling or straight out creepy. But he was being polite about it and technically the owner of her soul so it wasn't like she could just throw him out.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

The first full moon

Every werewolf felt the moon coming. They didn't need the calenders to tell them when to get ready, their bones were telling them just fine.

So when the time came around, Y/N locked her front door, the windows and every other way out of the apartment she could squeeze through. Human flesh was out of the equation and to make sure of that, she had to keep the both of them inside these four walls.

The sun was setting when she curled herself around her son on the sofa.

It surpassed the horizon when Crowley walked out of the kitchen, hands full. "Thought I'd bring you two a nice little snack."

Surprisingly enough, her pack instincts did not immediately scream danger. Usually, whenever someone even attempted to get near Fabio on the day of the full moon, Y/N had to use all of her self control to not claw their face of. Not with Crowley.

He stepped into the room fully - none the wiser of Y/N musings whether this was owed to the fact that he could easily overpower her or rather that he was here half the time - and handed her the plate full of raw meat.

"Thank you." her fangs were coming in so the words were a bit muffled.

Crowley nodded in acknowledgement and claimed the armchair he favoured whenever he visited. Against everything Y/N had expected, this was a quite frequent occurence. Not in any discernable rhythm but at least once a week Y/N could count on the King of Hell visiting.

"Are you planning on staying the full night?" She asked and bit down on the first piece of meat. Cow.

While she was chewing Crowley considered. "Let's see where the night takes us. Isn't like you two puppies could do me any harm."

"Sounds like a challenge," Y/N mumbled around the meat and reached down to feed a few pieces of it to a whining Fabio. The first few changes were the worst; she remembered them in graphic detail. Luckily Fabio wouldn't have to.

Crowley snorted. "Maybe another time when your pup isn't too small to be taken along."

Fabio was walking wobbly, his tiny hand clutching hers tightly. In Y/N's opinion, he had the right thought.

So he was planning on staying. Something uncurled inside of her and the usual need to kill, bite, maim, was eased for the moment.

The first visit of the throne room

This room was suffocating. She had no idea how Crowley worked here. However, she definitely got why he hadn't invited them over earlier.

A year into their weird arrangement and Y/N was seeing the insides of Crowley's - let's call it office - for the very first time.

Towering brick walls that looked ready to collapse any second, blind windows on the very corners of the walls, the floor littered with bones Y/N pointedly ignored.

And at the wall farthest away, a throne. On it sat Crowley, deep in discussion with presumably a demon in the same black suit that seemed to be Crowley's trademark.

The moment he glimpsed them, he shooed away the demon talking to him rapidly and got up. "If it isn't my two favourite werewolves."

"This place is... nice," Y/N said politely.

Fabio murmured something like 'scary' so she reached down and sat him on her hip. Immediately, his tiny fists curled into her shirt for support.

On the other hand, Crowley chuckled. "It's world's away from my office in hell, Love. Literally and metaphorically speaking. But you're not here to enjoy the atmosphere. Come on, I need a fresh eye on the texts these up to no good Winchesters thrusted at me. Can't believe they didn't ask Singer before."

That was a new aspect of their bizarre relationship. Crowley asking for her opinion, allowing her to help him. It made Y/N feel not as dependent on him as she once thought she was.

With a well paying job and a day care for Fabio keeping the most urgent problems off her back, Y/N slowly was feeling like herself again.

And if her knowledge of ancient Latin came in handy, she would do everything in her power to use it. Especially if it re-established their situation as equal.

Crowley pulled out a chair for her and pointed at the offending text. "Can you translate it and give me your interpretation? Moose's translation is giving me headaches."

"I can try," Y/N laughed, "but you'll have to watch Fabio for the time being."

Another new occurence. Her son trusted Crowley - had even declared him his play buddy. To everyone's surprise, Crowley suffered through it. Sure, he did not look pleased but he didn't turn him into a grease stain on the carpet.

So while Y/N dug into the text, Fabio was keeping Crowley occupied.

The first (and last) official™ date

"Love are you ready to go?"

Y/N was pretty sure that she would get a heart attack one of these days. Crowley stood in the doorway, she had just walked past, cuffing his sleeves.

"You have to stop entering my home like that," she said, hand on her chest. Good God.

But Crowley merely grinned. Offered his arm to her. "We have dinner reservations for seven."

It was five to seven. Y/N took his arm, charmed by the action and did her best not to giggle like a teenager. "Then let's get there."

Wrong choice of words.

The nervous butterflies in her stomach soon grabbed the nearest surface and held on for dear life. Traveling through space and time via demon was not good for her insides, Y/N discovered.

By the time the world wasn't spinning anymore, they were standing in front of a classy restaurant. It was evident that Crowley knew the owner as they were immediately led to a table.

Y/N was intimidated to no end.

She took her seat with Crowley's help and hid her shaking hands behind the menu. She would not mess this up, this night was supposed to be great. Her stupid nerves should not ruin her chances with Crowley. Not when her heart was far too invested already.

"I'd recommend the- what's wrong Love?" He looked up from his own menu, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Yeah no. She sighed and put it down. She had to answer him truthfully - somehow he always knew when Y/N attempted to lie. An irritating fact. "This is a really fancy place."

"I hoped you'd like it." Crowley nodded and reached over to cup her hand, "you don't?"

Slowly, she shook her head. No use in sitting through a horrible dinner and giving him a bad night on top of that with her fumbling. Let's end it while there was still hope of recovering the friendship. "I feel out of place. I'm sorry that I'm ruining it."

"Nonsense," Crowley immediately waved for the waiter, "we're leaving."

As fast as they had entered the place, they left it as well. Crowley had taken her hand at some point and held onto it every step into the crisp night air.

This time they walked to their destination. It was a diner, family owned and cozy. He turned, raised his eyebrows. "Is this better?"

"Much better," she confirmed, still a little uneasy for making all that fuss.

But Crowley didn't seem to mind. His relaxed smile (a rare occurrence) was still in place and he was still holding onto her hand.

With the same authority that he entered the restaurant, he walked up to a booth and pulled Y/N down next to him. Their arms were touching so she leaned into his side a little more. It was a pleasant feeling, being close to Crowley.

They ordered from a bubbly teenager that handed out smiles like cookies. He made Y/N relax instantly; the mood was obviously set to be inviting and homey. About the last place that she would have expected Crowley to visit. But here they were and it looked like he knew this place just as good as the restaurant.

"So tell me, what made you accept a dinner offer from a demon?"

Y/N snorted. "I happen to like that demon."

"Oh do you now?" He asked deadpan. His fingers curled around hers under the table and eased the sting of the sarcasm.

So she smiled and squeezed his hand. "Yep. And I'm pretty sure that the feeling is mutual."

Crowley followed the plates being placed down in front of them before he looked up straight into her eyes. Then, he grinned. "It is."

The first night as a family

"Momma momma, I wanna watch Monster Inc!" Fabio abandoned his Lego in favour of climbing Y/N's lap and declare his demands.

It was quite the accomplishment too as she was half curled around Crowley herself. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. "And what do you say when you want something baby?"

"Please!" Fabio wiggled around until he was comfortably squished between them.

His tiny fist was balled into her shirt but his eyes were on Crowley. Who looked down at the boy with - was that fondness?

Y/N nudged him. "Are you up for it?"

"A wildly inaccurate depiction of made up monsters?" Crowley huffed, "obviously."

Fabio whooped. "Momma, daddy said it's okay so we'll have to watch it."

Everything froze.

He did not just say that. She needed to say something, assure Crowley that neither of them was expecting this of him, gently talk to Fabio-

Then, Crowley chuckled and nudged her back. "Can't argue with that. Come on momma, put it on."

Y/N was dumbfounded. Did he- did he just go along with it? Of course, she had counted him a part of their little family for longer than she'd like to admit but she would have never dreamed that he would react so casual to it.

The first time that Fabio called him that too, Jesus Christ.

Apparently, it was pretty obvious what was going through her mind. Crowley lowered his head on her shoulder, mouth close to her ear while his arm held onto her a little tighter. "You are my family, Y/N. You and the boy. Did you doubt that?"

"I-"

"Mommy!" Fabio whined and pushed between them, "Monster Inc!"

And just like that, the spell was broken. All the nervous energy left her in a slightly insane giggle. "You're spoiled, young man."

"Please please please plea-"

"Alright alright," Crowley groaned exaggerated and snapped his fingers.

The TV started playing the movie and Fabio was quiet as a mouse.

These two were going to kill him, Y/N realised. And she was pretty okay with it.

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[onceupon]

London Boy - Part 2: Let the Game begin

summary: You had always thought you knew exactly what kind of boys Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton were - but did you actually?

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.5k

a/n: no one is asking for this but here it is anyways lmao enjoy (not canon Rafe)

You make it back to your room and take a deep breath. Boys. You were living with boys. Not just any boys - Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton. Whatever, you thought, shaking yourself back to reality. It didn’t matter anyways. You weren’t about to let them get in the way of having the time of your life these next few months and you definitely weren’t going to let them keep your mind tied to OBX. That was a tie you desperately wanted to cut. Besides, if you knew Rafe and Topper like you thought you did, they’d be too caught up with playing both the field and the girls of Westheath before you knew it, effectively keeping them occupied and out of your way. 

You decided to go about your day as you usually would. Your Have a Great Day playlist was queued up and playing as you slipped on your favorite jeans and top. You let yourself get absentmindedly lost in your actions as you did your hair and makeup - enough to make you feel put together and regain some control after the way this morning had left you feeling vulnerable. Looking good made you feel good - and if anyone else thought you looked good too, then hey, that was just an added bonus. 

You hadn’t noticed how lost in the process of getting ready you had gotten until you looked down at your phone and saw that an hour had flown by. You were half way down the hall to the kitchen when the door of your flat flew open, bringing you face to face with two new people for the second time that day. 

“Oh my gosh hiiii!” a girl turned to you, pausing her laughter from the conversation she was having with the girl next to her. “I’m Olivia! It’s so nice to meet you!!” the bubbly girl exclaimed, immediately embracing you in a hug. The other girl laughed at her friend’s excitement and forwardness which had clearly startled you. 

“I’m Millie - you must be one of our flatmates,” the other girl smiled, introducing herself to you as well. 

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” you smiled softly. 

“Oh my gosh Mills! I knew it! I told you we’d get roomed with the Americans! Ugh this is so exciting, there’s so much I need to know I don’t even know where to start!” Olivia squealed with a little hop. 

“Alright don’t scare the poor girl, she’s gonna think they’ve stuck her with a couple of psychos,” laughed Millie, pulling her friend’s arm to lead her down the hall. “Come on Liv let’s let y/n breathe for a second while we go put our bags down,” she said, giving you an apologetic smile.

You laughed and continued on to the kitchen to get some water as you had originally set out to do. You were honestly relieved. Thank god your other two roommates were girls who weren’t remotely associated with OBX. You didn’t even mind their intensity, it was endearing really, and you’d take a couple of loud but genuine girls who seemed like they were a bunch of fun to hang out with over the bitchiness and cattiness you were used to with the girls back home at Kildare. 

“Alright Y/n, I forgot sheets and Mills didn’t bring a towel so we’re going to Primark and you’re coming with. I want to hear all the American gossip,” Olivia reappeared and then slipped back down the hallway with a wink. You laughed and went to go grab your bag, just then realizing Rafe and Topper were no longer at the flat. You wondered where they had gone, not hearing them slip out over the music you were playing earlier. Not that you cared, it was a relief to have them out of sight and out of mind for now. 

—

“Hmm Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton, does sound rather posh,” mused Millie as you had begun providing some intel to your friends on the two flatmates they had yet to meet. 

“Two American ladies men, sign me up!” cackled Olivia. 

“Hey watch yourself missy, you’re taken,” Millie scolded. 

You had only known these girls for maybe an hour and somehow you had been comfortable enough with them to open up about your entire life’s backstory as you walked with them through the home section of Primark. It felt like they had been your friends for years, the three of you gelling together effortlessly. 

“Oo you have a boyfriend?” you asked as your eyes scanned over the shelf of fluffy blankets in front of you. You simply couldn’t leave without the light grey one, daydreaming about how cozy napping with it would be. 

“I do. His name is Jake,” Olivia beamed, “he’s kind of an idiot, but I love him.”

“And he’s got a whole squad of idiot friends too, but you’ll see for yourself,” Millie laughed. 

“Oh shit that reminds me! I invited them all over to pregame tonight before freshers,” chimed Olivia. 

“What’s freshers?” you asked, raising your brows in confusion. 

Millie and Olivia shared a quick laugh at how clueless you were to everything in their world. 

“So freshers is like this huge club event at the beginning of the school year. It’s really meant for uni freshers but since half of us are 18 and we can easily sneak in the other half it’s kind of tradition for Westheath kids to go their last year. Me and Mills went last year too though, one of the guys we knew the year above us was cousins with the bouncer,” Olivia grinned proudly. “But literally everyone is going and that means you’re coming too and- oh shit I’m such a bloody idiot aren’t I! I’m sorry Y/n I literally didn’t think at all to ask anyone from our flat if it was okay to host a pregame,” she bit her thumb with guilt-ridden eyes. 

“Looks like you and your idiot boyfriend are actually a match made in heaven,” joked Millie as Olivia gave her the finger, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. 

“Oh no that’s totally fine! I’ve had like barely any human interaction these last few days and it’ll be nice to meet some more people from Westheath. It’ll be fun,” you reassured Olivia with a genuine smile. “I just uh- I’ve never been clubbing. Like what do I even wear, I don’t think I brought anything like that. And I’m not 18 for another month, would I even get in?”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re here isn’t it!” exclaimed Olivia, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the clothes section. “Mills this would be PERFECT don’t you think,” she said as she held up a sheer black top in front of you. 

“Oh my gosh yes. With a black bra underneath and mini skirt,” Millie grinned, nodding in excitement with Olivia. 

“Guys I don’t know if I can wear this. Like I don’t think I can pull this off,” you said meekly. 

“Oh my god shut up this would look so good on you. Your body is killer and you can 1000% pull this off,” Olivia insisted, shoving the garment toward you. “And we’ll get you in the club no problem,” she added firmly, shutting down any possibility of you talking your way out of tonight. 

“Wait shit do you think Rafe and Topper will be cool with the pregame? We haven’t even properly met them yet and I’ve already invited a bunch of strangers to our place,” groaned Olivia as the three of you headed toward the register. 

“Trust me, if there’s two things those boys definitely don’t mind it’s a party and a reason to drink,” you laughed. 

—-

As the three of you unlocked the door to your flat you could hear Rafe and Topper’s voices from the kitchen. Ugh, back already. 

“Hellooo boys,” called Olivia with zero hesitation, walking straight into the kitchen. “Name’s Olivia, pleasure to meet you,” she smiled extending her hand. 

“Pleasure is all ours,” Rafe smiled back. It took every ounce of your will power not to roll your eyes at his smugness. 

“Indeed it is,” grinned Topper giving her a hand shake. “And you are,” Topper immediately drew his attention to Millie entering the kitchen right behind Olivia. You didn’t miss how his eyes ran her up and down. 

“Millie, your fifth and final roommate,” she smirked, not having missed his wandering eyes either. 

“So listen boys,” Olivia clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “I may have invited my boyfriend and some of our friends over to pregame tonight before we all go out to the club. You guys are obviously welcome to join but if you’re not cool with us having people over just say the word and-“

“Done deal. What time should we be ready?” Topper cut her off

“9. See you then,” she grinned from ear to ear sauntering off to her room. 

“Alright I need to go unpack, but it was lovely to meet you boys, see you soon,” Millie smiled, eyes locking with Topper’s for a second too long before she too slipped away. You wanted nothing more than to escape to your room as well but you were starving, and since you were now living with Rafe and Topper you’d have to learn to go about your life around your new home despite their presence. You sighed as you made your way to the fridge, trying to decide what you were gonna scrap together for dinner. 

“So how long have you been here already?” asked Rafe, grabbing some Pringles and taking a seat at the table, Topper already spreading out comfortably on the couch. 

“Uh, few days,” you replied, not bothering to turn around. 

“See anything cool yet,” Topper chimed in as he scrolled on his phone. The way they were asking you questions was oddly normal. You were trying hard to detect any hint of cockiness in their voice but you couldn’t find any. You weren’t ready to let your guard down fully, not entirely trusting the pair, but you decided to soften a bit and give them a chance. 

“Yeah actually, I walked around Hyde Park the other day and the day before I watched the sunset from Millennium Bridge. It was beautiful,” you replied, finally turning toward the boys, a jar of pasta sauce in hand. 

“Crazy being in a city like this huh. Definitely not the Outer Banks,” Rafe chuckled lightly, gaze settling on the window. 

“Definitely not the Outer Banks,” you smiled. 

—-

“What do you mean you haven’t watched Friends!?” you let out an exasperated cry as you twirled more spaghetti on your fork. 

“It’s stupid,” said Topper, making a face. 

“It’s a classic,” you retorted. 

“No. The Office though. Now that’s a classic.”

“Should’ve know you were an Office guy,” you shook your head, Rafe laughing from his seat across from you. 

“Listen, I can’t help you if you don’t know how to appreciate true comedy,” Topper shrugged. 

“Yeah okay,” you rolled your eyes, turning now to face the dirty blonde seated across from you, absent mindedly shuffling a deck of cards for no reason, the golden ring on his finer catching your eye as his hands moved in a repetitive motion. “And what about you Mr. Dealer,” you asked Rafe, eyes motioning to the cards in his hand before going back up to meet his gaze. Rafe knew how to keep good eye contact with a person, confident yet not overpowering, and as the evening progressed and you become more comfortable you welcomed the challenge of his piercing blue eyes. 

“I’m more of a How I Met Your Mother guy,” he answered nonchalantly. 

“Huh, I wouldn’t’ve pegged you as that.”

“And what would you have pegged me as, Y/n,” he asked, still holding your gaze to which you just shrugged playfully, letting him wonder. 

“Okay, forget about comedies. Game of Thrones. Hands down best thing I’ve ever watched,” Topper stated, throwing his palms down on the table. 

“I mean I do hear good things, but I don’t know, seems kind of intense,” you said before shoving another forkful of spaghetti in your mouth. 

“No no no Y/n you literally don’t know what you’re missing out on, it’s pure genius,” Topper continued passionately. 

Rafe gave you a knowing glance as you two made eye contact again, trying not to laugh, “He’s been on my ass for years to watch it.”

“And now you have no excuse! It’s senior man, classes will be light work, just give it a chance,” Topper pleaded. 

“You know what Topper, just because you’re practically jumping out of your seat right now, I’ll check it out just for you,” you laughed as Toppers face pulled into a wide grin. 

“Good enough for me,” he said victoriously. 

“Lemme one up that Topps, I’ll also give it a chance, so it better be worth it,” Rafe added, Topper’s eyes growing wide in simultaneous glee and disbelief. Topper quickly got up from his seat, puffing his chest, “woooo! Winter is coming to London baby!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist before heading down the hall to his room. 

Two hours had passed by with you hanging out in the kitchen with Rafe and Topper, and to your surprise… you were actually enjoying yourself. You guys had talked about the things you wanted to do in London, the music you all listened to, favorite movies, and tv shows of course. You almost didn’t know how to process it. How could two guys who seemed like such kook douchebags actually be - cool? You had always regarded the two at face value, but perhaps there was more to these boys than what meets the eye. 

“Oh god how is it already 8, I’m so behind,” you groaned, getting up to wash your dishes. 

“Once Topper is full speed ahead, there’s no stopping that man,” Rafe laughed. 

“Hey,” you turned your head around from the sink, soapy dish in hand. “I was actually serious about giving Game of Thrones a try. Damn Topper if he didn’t make me curious now,” you laughed, “but I was thinking, if you’re actually gonna watch too, that we should time it so we both watch on the same days. Because then if we’re on the same schedule, whenever we see each other in the kitchen or something we can discuss and we’ll be on the same episodes so no spoilers.”

“So you mean we’d both watch on our own but at the same time?” Rafe asked. 

“Yeah,” you replied, as if it was obvious. That’s what you literally just described. 

“Well if we’re gonna watch it at the same time, we might as well just watch it together Y/n,” he calmly stated, walking right up next to you to put his Pringles away. 

“Uh yeah I mean that works too,” you replied, looking up at the boy now next to you, getting slightly flustered by his presence once again. His blue eyes were piercing right through you, and this time it was a losing a battle. 

“Cool,” he smiled, turning around and walking out of the kitchen to his room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in, the water still running in front of you as you stood their holding the sponge like an idiot. What the fuck just happened?

---

Part 3

[flowerpowell]

Unexpected (Drake x MC)

PART EIGHT

A/N: The list of questions that Drake found in this chapter is very real and I had a lot of fun writing this scene lol. I hope you’ll like it too! Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Rating: PG-16 (nothing too crazy but maybe some suggestive language)

Word count: 2289

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“Mmm” Riley moaned as she slowly opened her eyes. It took her a moment to adjust to the bright room and to realize she wasn’t in her regular room.

Drake’s mom. Right.

She wanted to turn to see if Drake had already woken up but she couldn’t as she saw his arms wrapped around her waist so tightly she could barely breathe. Or maybe it was Drake’s proximity that made it so hard to breathe. Drake’s face was buried in her neck and covered in her hair and she tried to stay as still as possible.

Normally, she would push him away the second she’d realize how close they were but for some reason she quite enjoyed them being so close, so intimate. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it was her real life, entangled in bed with the love of her life. The reality was a bit different and she blushed at the thought that Mr Perfect Butt was cuddling her.

Don’t think about his butt, don’t think about his butt.

Riley felt that Drake started to stir and she closed her eyes immediately, pretending to be still asleep as if she never noticed the position they were in. She felt his breath on her neck and she knew he woke up. She pretended to be waking up too and she opened her eyes meeting with Drake’s already looking at her.

“Ewww, what are you doing,” she pushed him away as she jumped out of the bed. “I knew you should’ve just slept on the floor, ugh,” she added as she quickly left the bedroom.

~~~~

“Good morning, my love birds!” Bianca entered the kitchen with Bartie in her arms. Drake smiled sleepily at her and Riley took Bartie from her fake mother-in-love.

“I hope you had a good night.”

“Moooom,” Drake rolled his eyes.

“What? You just got married, you deserve to have some good nights. I can take Bartie somewhere for the night if it’s necessary,” she winked and Drake facepalmed as Riley blushed.

“Thank you, Mrs Walker, but we love Bartie and we want to spend as much time with him as possible,” Riley answered politely.

“That’s understandable. And please, call me Bianca.”

Drake opened his mouth to comment this somehow but someone knocked on the door and he stood up to open it, Riley following suit.

“Yes?” He asked the woman standing in the doorway, smiling at him.

“Drake and Riley Walker?” she asked as both of them nodded. “Someone filed a complaint about the legitimacy of your marriage. I’m bringing you the copy of the document along with the letter to come to the embassy for the interview.”

“Embassy? Interview?” Drake asked as he opened the letter and seeing the name of the person responsible for it,” Madeleine.”

“We need to establish whether your marriage is in fact real, as the claim suggests it is fake, serving only to get full custody and grant Mrs Walker a Cordonian citizenship.”

“Me...? What?!” Riley’s eyes widened and Drake put a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

“Why did Madeleine even sent it? She was at the wedding!”

“Mrs Beaumont simply voiced her concerns about the legitimacy of your marriage, there will be a few question you two will be asked and that’s all. Nothing to be worried about. Unless, the marriage is indeed fake.”

“Concerns about our marriage? Can I voice my concerns about Madeleine’s sanity then?” Drake asked but before the woman could answer Riley cut in.

“This is ridiculous. And what if that stupid interview proved it was a fake marriage?”

“Then it’d be annuled immediately, you would be sent to America and Drake would most likely lose the custody. But as I said,” she smiled at them, “nothing to be worried about. It’s just a formality. See you tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow?!” Riley and Drake asked at the same time but the woman already started walking away. They looked at each other, Riley full of worry and Drake full of anger.

“Mom? Can you actually take Bartie for the night? Riley and I want to have tonight for ourselves.”

~~~~

“Okay, let’s do this.”

“Why did you bring alcohol?” Riley asked curiously as Drake put two glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the floor.

“I really can’t do that sober,” he shook his head and poured the drink into two glasses. Riley took one and they both drank it, the liquid burning their throats.

“Okay, I found a few lists of possible questions on the internet, are you ready?” He asked and Riley nodded. How bad could it be?

“First. Where did you meet?”

“Easy. In your bar,” Riley answered taking a swig. This is going to be easy.

“Right. When did your relationship turn romantic?”

“Umm, never?”

Drake narrowed his eyes.

“Hmm, maybe after I first visited you at home and met Bartie? I could say I saw the way you take care of him and I fell in love and then it quickly became a romantic relationship?”

“I like that,” Drake nodded. “Okay, next. Why did you decide to have a short engagement?”

“Because we really wanted to start our life together and also because we wanted to make a family for Bartie.”

“Good, I’m impressed!” Drake high-fived Riley. “Moving on, there’s a set of questions about our habits. Ready?”

“Bring it on!” Riley said as she took another swig of her drink.

“Who gets up first? At what time? How many alarm clocks do you set in the morning? Who cleans the house? Who makes breakfast? Who takes care of paying the bills? Does your spouse take any regular medications?”

“Whoaa. Okay. You get up first to go for a run, unless Bartie starts crying, then we both wake up at the same time. You never set any alarm clocks. I have to clean the house because you’re messy. We both make breakfast for ourselves and you pay bills since it’s your house. And I haven’t seen you taking any meds. How did I do?”

“You did great,” Drake admitted as he took a few swigs of whiskey. “You set as many alarms as possible but after like ten alarms you turn off your phone because they annoy you. You take some allergy pills, right?”

“Yes! I’m alergic to mess and since your place is so messy I have to take those,” she answered sweetly and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Whatever. I’m doing this for my restaurant. Next question.”

“What is your spouse’s favorite/least favorite food?”

“Everything with meat is favorite. Anything without meat is your least favorite.”

“Very funny. I like simple things so anything extravagant is not my favorite. Now, you’re a great cook so I would say you love everything.”

“My favorite dish is pasta à la Nana. It was invented by me and my grandma when I was about five years old. It reminds me of her,” Riley said, her voice breaking slightly.

“I’ve never seen you making it,” Drake noticed and Riley shrugged.

“I haven’t been able to make ever since she died. We always did it together. The secret is that you need two people to make it and I just... I couldn’t.” She quickly wiped a tear from her eyes and Drake wordlessly pulled her close.

“Let’s... finish with these questions,” she whispered and Drake nodded.

“Who sleeps on each side of the bed?” he asked and she looked at him confused.

“What, these are the questions!”

“Well, when we fell asleep I was on the right side and you on the left side but when I woke up we both somehow were on the right side.”

“I think that’s a sufficent answer. Okay, next, when was your wife’s last menstrual period? Wait, what?” He read it again. “How am I supposed to know that?!”

“Just say two weeks ago and let’s move on,” she chuckled. Normally she would be embarrassed to talk about such topics with someone who was neither her sister nor her close friend but all that alcohol was making her a bit more confident.

“When did you last have intimate relations?”

“This is what they ask about?” Riley raised her eyebrow as Drake tried to hide his red cheeks.

“Apparently they’re very nosy.”

“Let’s just say it was tonight. Bianca can even confirmed she took Bartie out for the night so it’s more believeable.”

“Good thinking, Mrs Walker,” Drake smiled as he clinked glasses with her. “Next is, how many sexual partners did you have?”

“What? This is ridiculous, they can’t ask that!” Riley stood up, ready to end this rehearsal. This was a stupid idea anyway.

“I didn’t make it up, it’s one of the sample questions, look!” Drake showed his phone to Riley but she only rolled her eyes.

“It’s stupid.”

“It is but need to be prepared. So... what is your number?”

“What is yours?” Riley asked crossing her arms. She hated it already.

“Just seven,” he shrugged, “nothing too exciting.”

“Seven?” her eyes widened. “Not that I care. I’m going to sleep, I’m tired.”

“Hey, we haven’t finished yet!”

“Well, I’m finished.”

“Riley,” Drake stook up and  took her hand, “I told you my number, it’s only fair if you tell me yours. How many guys did you sleep with?”

She rolled her eyes, “Zero. Happy now?”

“But I thought...” Drake’s eyes widened. “With you looking like this, I just--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Everyone is so fixated on--”

“I’m not everyone,” Drake cut in and she looked at him. “And I don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“If you had parents like mine, you’d understand. All I had time for was studying so that my parents were proud of me. My older sister is their favorite and I always tried to be more like her. Jeez, why am I even telling you this?”

“If they couldn’t see how great you are then it’s their loss,” Drake said but she didn’t reply. After a few minutes of complete silence, Drake finally asked, “Can we answer the rest of the questions?”

~~~~

The interview was scheduled early next morning and both Riley and Drake were very tired as they were practicing most of the night. It all was worth it though, because they covered all the questions the interviewer asked them. Even the woman who brought them documents seemed to be happy with their responses.

When they left the office, they were so relived and tired that they hugged each other without even realizing what they were doing.

Bianca was waiting with Bartie and started cheering when Drake showed her a thumb up.

“You should celebrate! Now everyone knows your marriage is real and you love each other.”

“Yeah.”

“Show some enthusiasm, son! Kiss your wife!”

“It’s okay, we’re not really fans of PDA,” Riley tried to argue with Bianca but the woman only shook her head.

“It’s not PDA, it’s just a kiss!”

“Fine, Mom!” Drake rolled his eyes and kissed Riley’s cheek quickly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I kiss Bartie with more love than you did Riley.”

“Mom!”

“It’s okay,” Riley grabbed Drake’s hand and he looked at her, frowning. She nodded slighly and he sighed but leaned down to kiss her.

At first, it was a very careful kiss, more like a quick peck on the lips but soon he felt Riley deepening the kiss a little and he followed suit, somehow not being able to stop. He put one of his arms on Riley’s back and the other was entangled in her hair. He heard a soft moan from Riley’s lips and it was only then that he realized what they were doing, in front of his mother. Slowly, he pulled away and looked down, avoiding his mother’s eyes.

“Yes, that’s more like it,” they heard Bianca and Drake could swear he heard her smiling.

Drake shook his head as his phone started ringing and he felt very thankful for that distraction.

“Liam? What’s happening?”

“I sent the guards back to Cordonia. They didn’t find anything in Karlington. Everything is clear. They checked every single room, dungeons, even secret passages. The gardens were checked too. And all the houses nearby. Nothing. I’m sorry.”

“It’s... okay. Thank you anyway, for doing this,” Drake sighed. He was losing hope with each day.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you some good news. I decided to leave one guard there, just in case.”

“Thank you, Liam. Really.”

“I’ll call you later and we’ll talk, okay?” Liam asked and after hearing ‘okay’ from the other side, he hung up.

He started sorting out some documents when he heard a knock on the door.

“Yes?”

“King Liam,” Madeleine bowed and Liam stood up, surprised to see her there.

“Madeleine? What are you doing here?”

“Is that a way to greet your ex fiancee?” She smiled as she waved a big envelope before Liam’s eyes.

“What are you doing here, Madeleine?” Liam repeated, his eyes trained on the woman.

“I brought new evidence. About Savannah and Bertrand. My private investigator just sent this and...” she bit her lips as if considering something, “I think you should see it.”

[daniellesimagines]

Try It Again (Ashton Irwin) - Part 2 *

submitted by @palayeeeroyale

Part 1

Trigger warning: Mentions of rape, PTSD

~

“-and then I rolled down my window like ‘I’m so sorry, Shia LaBeouf!’ and then he- Ash? Ashton, are you even listening?” Michael interrupted his story when he saw that his friend sitting passenger in his car staring at his phone.

“Hmm?” Ashton murmurs, finally looking up, “Oh sorry, mate, I was just texting Y/N.” The rest of the band nods, understanding that Michael’s story is the last thing Ash is concerned about. The boys decided to carpool to the studio today rather than be in separate cars.

“How’s she doing? She still having sleep trouble?” Calum asked.

“She’s been doing better, actually. She still has nightmares from time-to-time, but she hasn’t had any sleep paralysis in a few months. And she’s starting to get more confident,” Ashton informed the three curious boys, finally sliding his phone back in his pocket. 

Luke, Michael, and Calum were all worried about you as well. Being with Ashton meant being around them a lot, so it was inevitable for you four to be close to each other. Their respective significant others and you were all really close as well, you and Sierra were even to be bridesmaids in Michael and Crystal’s wedding. So when the tragic incident happened, everyone was understandably scared about you; There wasn’t a single dry eye in the hospital room the day you were admitted.

“How has she become more confident?” the long-haired singer asked from his seat behind the eldest boy of the group.

Ashton sighed, not sure if he should even tell them something as personal as this. But he looked at the concerned faces staring back at him – all except Michael, who was driving – and knew that they aren’t gonna make too big of a deal out of it like they normally did whenever one of them talked about their sex life, he decided to.

“You have to promise me you won’t mention to Y/N that I told you…” All three boys nodded, confused as to what the answer could possibly be. “Recently, we tried to have sex again.”

“Y-You didn’t make her, did you?” the kiwi boy asked hesitantly.

“No! God, no! I would never!” Ashton yelled, very offended by the question. Calum shrunk back under the hateful glare that Ashton was sending him.

“Well, how’d it go?” Michael tried to ease the tension, “Did you two finish?”

“No, she safe-worded out. But I’m so fucking glad she did. I was terrified she would’ve just let me have my way with her, y’know? I would’ve felt terrible if I knew that I fucked her while she was having flashbacks of what happened.” The boys simply nod. 

The Tesla was silent for a minute before Michael brought up an idea.

“Why don’t you let her be in charge or something…?” he offered. Ashton looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, yeah! Let her be on top so she won’t get scared of you being on her,” Calum included. Ashton sat there quietly, taking in the suggestions the boys were throwing at him.

“That’s not a bad idea at all. Like, make her feel like she has complete control of the situation?”

The drummer earned a simultaneous “Yes!” “Yeah!” “Exactly!” in response. He hadn’t really thought about that. 

Ashton was never one to be submissive. He liked his dominance. He liked having power over someone – a person who would do anything to please him whenever he so desired. 

He tried giving up the power once with you during the early stages of your relationship, and although it was enjoyable, it wasn’t something he was into doing regularly. You accepted this, since you two were just experimenting at the time, and stuck ‘femme-dom’ under the metaphorical list of kinks that you two weren’t gonna pursue.

But now, he’s never heard of a more perfect idea. Letting you have total control of what you do and what he does? It’s brilliant!

“That’s such a fucking good idea, Mike,” he looks at the guitarist in complete awe.

“Thanks,” he stated proudly, “You only get one good one out of me per year.”

“More like per millennia…” the other blonde mumbled.

“Shut up, Luke!”

~

Ashton held onto the idea of you two switching roles for about three weeks. 

He wasn’t gonna come up to you with the idea – he was gonna wait until you wanted to have sex again. He didn’t want you to feel like you were being rushed, so he decided to be patient. He assumed you weren’t gonna want to try anything again for another few months, but your words one day during dinner made him nearly start choking on his food.

“Ash, I wanna try having sex again,” you stated casually. The black-haired boy started to cough, startled by the proposition. After he had finally swallowed the pasta, he responded.

“Princess, it’s only been a couple weeks. Don’t you wanna wait a little longer?” he looks at you, who’s now standing the other side of the table beside him, with uncertainty.

“Please, Ashton! I want to be close with you again. I want you to make love to me. I wanna make you feel good.” That last sentence slipped out. As soon as you said it, the boy’s eyes softened.

“Baby, don’t feel like you should try having sex again for me. I’m perfectly okay going without sex if it means that you’re getting better. Your therapist said that if you were to have another PTSD episode, it could set you back. You could have your night terrors again, or your sleep paralysis… I don’t want to hurt you or your recovery.”

“I know what Dr. Torrence said. But I miss you – I miss the intimacy and the passion between us. Please, Ashton; I know you’re worried, but this is something I really wanna try one more time,” you try to persuade. He looks at you in thought for a while before making a decision.

“I’ve actually thought of a way that could help you get through it, but I’ll tell you what. Next Saturday, if you’re still 100% sure you wanna try it again, then we’ll do it. I just want to make sure this isn’t some kind of ‘in the moment’ thing or whatever. I don’t wanna hurt you, princess,” Ashton puts his hand on your cheek. You place a hand on his wrist and look at him with understanding eyes.

“Okay, next Saturday sounds good,” you smile. He returns the gesture, then kisses your nose just to see your face scrunch up like it does every time he kisses you there.

~

One week later

Now it’s next Saturday, and the want to have sex with your boyfriend only grew stronger. You wanted to give it another go – you really believe that can do it and not freak out.

You two were in your bedroom, kissing each other passionately. You both stand there for a bit before either one of you speak.

“Baby, take off my shirt,” he mumbles against your lips. You oblige, swiftly unbuttoning everything. You wait for him to do the same for you, but never makes the motion.

“Aren’t you gonna take my clothes off?”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, “I want you to have total control over everything. You can take off your clothes when you want, you can touch me when you want, you can tell me where to touch you – everything.” You blink at him, surprised. Him being so willing to give up all the power to you nearly brings you to tears. But you try not to ruin the moment, so you take off your shirt.

Shedding both of your clothes, you pull Ashton towards the bed. You lay down and pull him on top of you. But that position only lasts only a second before he flips you both over. You looked at him in shock for the second time.

“Like I said, you have the whole say so,” he reminded you. You smile down at the raven-haired boy below you. 

You take him in your hand and line him up at your entrance, the both of you groaning at this feeling of you sinking down on him. You pause a moment, adjusting to the length, before bouncing up and down.

This seems…natural. 

You have no unsettling feeling and, for the first time in eight months, your head is clear of any of any of the horror that you’ve experienced. You and Ashton were having sex… 

And you were enjoying it.

“Ashton, touch me,” you commanded.

“Where, baby girl?”

You shake your head, “I don’t care – anywhere. Please.”

Ashton immediately reaches to your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples. You moan out his name louder as you were getting closer to your high.

“You close, princess?” You nod. “Me too. Come for me.”

You take one of his hands that were on your boob and brought it down to your core, hoping he would understand what you wanted. Luckily, he did, using his fingers to circle your clit. A couple more bounces and you released all over his length, causing Ashton to finish as well. Once you’ve both come down from your highs, you pull off of him and lay down next to him.

You two lay there silently for a bit, just enjoying being next to each other…

Then Ashton heard it: your sniff.

You were crying.

His stomach dropped, and his heart started pounding. 

Fuck, no no no. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen; You were supposed to safe-word out. God dammit, he fucked this up. He fucked everything up. He hurt you and now you were gonna reset all the progress you had just made recovering. 

God fucking dammit.

“Baby…” he whispers. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been mor-” He stops when he hears you laughing. You look at him with a large smile as his eyebrows furrow.

“I did it!” you announce, “I fucking did it!” Your tears flow harder, but your smile somehow gets wider.

“Wait, what?”

“Ashton… I had sex! And I liked it!” you sit up, “Holy shit, I had an orgasm again! I never thought I’d be able to do that again! Oh my god!” Your happy tears turned into happy sobs. 

Your boyfriend let out the biggest sigh of relief, before sitting up as well to hug you. You rest your head on his chest.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, princess,” he kissed the top of your head. 

You look up at him with teary eyes, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being there for me. For waiting for me to be ready again. For letting me be dominant so we can do this, even though you aren’t used to it. For everything.” Ashton smiles, softly taking your chin in his hand and kissing your lips.

“I’d do anything for you.”

[jennamustafa267]

Creative Non-Fiction 1st Draft

Jenna Mustafa 

English 267

Professor Reiter

Creative Nonfiction 

February 10, 2020

                      Secrets Of The CobbleStone Streets 

   In the summer of July 2016, I took a rather interesting trip to Italy with my grandma (Tata), my Uncle, my Aunt, two baby cousins and my uncles’ mother in law. We traveled to three different places. First Venice, then Florence, then Rome. Out of three Florence was my favorite. The days would get pretty hectic trying to balance out two grandmas and two children. Regardless it was still a trip that I cherish deeply. 

   One night, in particular, my aunt and uncle went out to dinner and left the kids with me and their grandmas. However, my grandma and I did NOT feel like being confined to the hotel to stay and babysit. We were in freaking Florence for crying out loud! As evil as it may sound, my grandma and I conceived a plan to pretend that I- was the one that wanted to go out but my “Grandma didn’t want me to go alone.” So, we made sure Carla (My aunts’ mom) was all set with the kids and we left to venture out. We did not tell my uncle that we were leaving simply because he would have told us “No.” Yes, I know what you're thinking “How can a son tell his mother she can't do something?” Well, he would have just been worried about us being alone in a foreign atmosphere alone at night. Which makes sense...we did it anyways. 

   Our hotel was right next to the long, calm, glistening Arno river. The night was that perfect cool after a hot summer day, you're not really sweating but there is no breeze. The streets were anything but quiet. Every corner had a musician, every restaurant had a couple, and every street flourished with tourists. My grandma and I are two of them. Stopping at every storefront to admire the merchandise inside like the jewelry made out of Murano glass, vintage clocks or your classic “I LOVE ITALY” sweatshirts. There was a violinist playing his own rendition of an American classic “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond. We stopped to watch some street performers dancing to an unfamiliar Italian hip hop song. We stopped to watch them for a minute and gave them a few Euros to respect their grind and display our appreciation.  

   To be completely honest, there was very little conversation exchanged between me and my grandma. We were just taking everything in while we could. We walked at a slow pace, arm in arm. It wasn’t until I asked her to tell me stories, that we could not stop talking. She shared with my things my mother used to do when she was my age, like how she would impersonate Steve Urcle or play as The Little Mermaid in the pool. We shared laughs over the memories we had when she used to visit me when I was younger and I acted like a complete brat. She told me how one time she wanted to sleep in my bed but I put up the biggest fit and refused to give up my bed for anyone. My grandma also explained some Islamic teachings to me and made certain situations easier to understand. Such as stories about Prophets and their wives. The feel of the cobblestone streets made it fun to walk slower. Something about the round feeling on your feet is so satisfying. 

   We walked past this gelato place, the gelato in Italy was the richest, sweetest, creamiest and dreamiest gelato in the world. But for some reason I did not want it nor did my grandma. Instead, I treated us both to a cup of fresh, juicy watermelon. Nothing like the fruit back home in America. Everything in Italy seemed better. The food is more organic and flavorful. The people are calmer than New York. No one was rushing or shoving you. They all just mind their own business and go about their day. 

   That night I realized how truly strong-spirited, faithful and exceptional my grandmother is. She is my ultimate role model and how badly I hope to grow to be just like her. Tata’s knees started hurting her (which was typical due to her age) so we snapped some pictures and took a rest sitting on a bridge above the Arno river. There were a few people also sitting on the bridge. This one lady next to us noticed our hijabs (Headscarf) and asked us where we were from. When we told her Palestine, she excitedly told us she was from there too. Her name was Salam and she was with her husband, they both are from a town right next to ours in Palestine called Beit Hanina, and lived in Brooklyn. It was the strangest thing. All four of us agreed that the world was extremely small. The fact that we never ran into each other in New York, yet we so happened to be sitting on a bridge at the same time in Italy. We let them go on their way, being that they were on their honeymoon and wanted to enjoy each other's company. 

   There was a small moment of silence as I pondered about how strange things (like meeting that couple) happen and how it was all meant to be. And it drew me back to how this moment of being alone with my grandma in Europe was meant to be and how it will most likely never happen again. This is an opportunity to just have a deep conversation with her and speak to her about anything I wanted to know, 

   “Tata, how were you able to handle the grief of momma?” I asked her with apprehension not wanting to make her upset. My mother passed away in August 2015; it would only be a year. We were on our way back home from Palestine and she had a stroke on the plane. She was only 43 years old, and it was completely unexpected. Everytime someone would try to talk to me, I would never listen. My grandma was the one my mother always went to, so I felt it fitting to ask her, even if I was weary that it would make her upset. But to my surprise she answered,  

   “When you have a strong trust in Allah (God)  plans, you will understand that this was always meant to happen. He will not give us anything that we can not endure. You must have patience and trust to be able to get through anything. Thank Allah for everything.”  I looked at her completely in awe. There were no tears building up in her eyes or even a crack in her voice. And this was a woman who was talking about her own daughters’ death. It is her faith that is helping her push through this. I, however, could not respond. I knew if I spoke it would just drown in tears. The lump in my throat was too large to let anything out. 

   She continued, “You know, she was too good for this world. We did not deserve her. She’s right where she belongs now. And one day we will all be reunited.” she continued. When she said “We will be reunited” it really made me think that I need to remain the proper Muslim girl that my mother would want me to be. 

  I just admired her as she spoke and gave her a big hug. She was right. Completely and truly right. It put everything in perspective for me. It made the anger I had built up after losing my mother disappear. It made the world make sense again. My grandma had an answer for everything. No wonder my mom was as perfect as she was. She had a great mother to look up too. And how lucky am I to have these two women in my life. 

   “This means so much to me,” I expressed to Tata, “You are so strong and so brave to be able to handle all of this and I love you.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek, “I love you too” she said. 

   When I first lost my mother I didn’t quite understand why it happened or how I would ever be able to get over. The entire trip me and my uncle (My moms’ brother)  were talking about how much she would have loved Italy. Everything from the chic boutiques to the savory pasta. Nonetheless, we were together enjoying it for her and to honor her. My mother was the perfect daughter and sister. The majority of my upbringing, I was surrounded by my father’s family. My maternal aunts and uncles all lived in different states and my grandparents lived in Jordan. The only times we got together were only for short periods of time during family weddings.  It was refreshing to be able to spend some time with them as they continued to tell me stories and little things about my mom as we toured the city. 

   We watched the amber color river flow. At that moment I knew this was going to be a night I’d never forget. Tata started to tell me about how she grew up. Living in Palestine at the start of the war was a very disquieting time for her. She explained to me how she practically had to escape from her home and keep moving from village to village in Palestine until she reached a place where the Isreali army would not be able to harm her and her family anymore. She even explained to me that she lost her newborn baby sister on the way.  Yet another thing that is so admirable about her. Before we knew it the streets slowly became more quiet and less busy. After we both yawned, we hugged again and made our way back to the hotel, right before my uncle came back.  

   Overall we should all learn to appreciate our family while they are around. I understood my whole family was hurting after the passing of my mother, but I was so worried about everyone else I forgot to try and deal with the grief myself. People would just talk to me and it would go in one ear and out the other. I was too busy thinking about if my brothers and my father are okay. I’m so beyond grateful to have had this walk with my grandma and for her to have been able to explain to me her grief. But it had to take us venturing off on our own to fully connect and help me grieve better. 

[elleonmybeloved]

Irresistible Clover

Amnesia | Heroine x Kent Words: 3722 Chapter: 1 Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22448383/chapters/53637313

Summary: Hera's got it bad for her coworker and once temp math-professor Kent, but she thinks it's pretty clear that he's not interested in relationships, or her for that matter. But when a golden opportunity to spend some time with him presents itself, she just can't resist being a sucker for love.

Kent isn't good at social relationships and he's well aware of that. A romantic relationship would just be asking for trouble, and probably not worth all the effort. But when it comes to his clever coworker Hera, he can't help but insert himself into her life every chance he gets. It's so illogical, more than 50% of relationships in people his age end in heartbreak, but where is this urge to hold her, protect her, and kiss her coming from? Why can't he treat her like everyone else?

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

It was official. Hera was having a bad day. Well, days, actually.

First, her power went off right in the middle of her favorite game  Riddlemaster  yesterday. She’d only been able to play half an hour more before her laptop had finally died, and she’d lamented for having to watch it on such a small screen the whole time.

Defeated, she’d turned in early. Not much else to do with the lights out.

Second, she’d been unable to sleep until 3am, unused to the pitch dark. She preferred to sleep with her night light on, and refused to be ashamed about that no matter how much Shin teased her about it.

Third, the power was still out when she left to go to work in the morning, and all the food she had to eat was in the fridge, which she couldn’t open unless she wanted everything in there to spoil.

Finally, only an hour into her shift at the cafe, she’d developed a nice sleep deprivation headache that throbbed painfully behind her eyes.

So she couldn’t help it if she was being a little less patient than usual.

“Hey Hera, could you load up a fresh batch of frozen strawberries? We just ran out.”

Hera looked up from the triple-order of parfaits she was making and eyed the three whole other mostly idle people that Mine could have asked instead of her. Frozen strawberries were heavy and as one would assume,  frozen  and would smart on her bare hands after just a few seconds of carrying the bag.

“I’m busy with an order right now.” 

“Oh.” Mine looked extremely surprised, and Sawa who was working on sorting through tickets behind her wore a similarly shocked expression. Hera was usually quite polite with her speech. “Sorry.”

“Mm.” Hera didn’t think she  sounded  very sorry. Keeping her eyes down, she finished pouring the cream topping on the parfaits with a more aggressive squeeze than was necessary, and stalked off to go deliver them to the table before they began to melt.

Unfortunately for her, Ikki was ‘entertaining’ a customer at the bar which was right in her way to access the exit flap. Normally she’d just wait, but the parfaits were heavy, and if Waka noticed her serving half-melted ice cream she’d be the one to get berated later. And she really didn’t feel like listening to that.

“Excuse me.” She said shortly, looking pointedly at Ikki. “Coming through.”

His eyes widened and he hastily got out of the way. “Of course, my apologies for blocking your way…”

Hera didn’t respond, just briskly and carefully weaved around tables and customers to deliver her order.

Staring after her, Ikki made a short “huh” under his breath and then turned to the lady who was still giving him moony eyes as if nothing had even happened. 

“Right - thank you for your kind words my lady, but actually we don’t accept those types of things here. If you have any additional questions or concerns please don’t hesitate to voice them. For now, I’m afraid I must return to the kitchen.”

“Aww… okay.”

Back in the kitchen, Shin was restocking the whipped cream and cinnamon while Kent stoically oversaw the cooking of what Ikki assumed was about to be one of their “Creamy Heart Gnocchi” plates. Mine was struggling to lift a large bag of frozen strawberries out of the freezer, although it was a matter of height rather than strength.

Ikki leaned against the doorway to avoid getting in the way.

“Seems like our cute little maid has her claws out today.” He stated probingly. He wanted to affirm that it wasn’t just him. While his eyes didn’t work on Hera, he fancied that his natural charm still worked on her just fine.

“If you’re -kya!- talking about Hera, then yeah, she’s like, totally bitchy today.” Mine grumbled, yelping as she finally succeeded at getting the bag down. 

Kent made a displeased grunt of warning at the profanity.

“Grumpy, I mean. She  scowled  at me earlier when I asked her to get these for me!” Mine made a cute pouty face and demurred her posture to look pitiful.

“Restocking desert items is part of your responsibilities, not hers.” Kent corrected.

“Hpmh! Whatever. Let’s see how many customers she can please with  that  attitude.”

“Can you stop gossiping about dumb shit and get back to work.” Shin said, setting down a container of whipped cream a bit harder than necessary. As usual, he looked irritated.

Kent forwent correcting the profanity since he too wanted them to get back to work rather than conversing further.

Mine huffed and stalked out, forgetting to look like she was struggling to carry the heavy bag, holding it in one arm with ease. Ikki made an amused face and got the container of darjeeling that he had come in for originally and got to work brewing the tea.

 ---

 Not that Hera had begun the day with much in the way of patience, but right now she was dangerously close to losing it completely. Just one more hour of torture and she could go home to what was hopefully an apartment fully restored with power.

There were no windows in Meido no Histuji, which contributed to it’s cozy den-like atmosphere which inspired customers to relax in the dim lighting of the cafe. It was probably good for business, but Hera would have liked to have some windows simply for the fact that  maybe , she wouldn’t be dealing with a table of male customers who wanted more maidly services than she was willing to offer.

Since they probably wouldn’t feel so bold in the face of broad daylight.

Hera forced a polite smile and held the tray up higher so that it would block access to where her ample chest swelled her apron.

“Thank you for your kind words masters, but we don’t offer any of those kinds of services at this establishment.” She really should have been more cordial, but this was the wrong day for them to grope her. “It is stated quite clearly in our rules on the sign outside the cafe. Should you masters require some help to read it, I can gladly provide a chance to have my manager come personally reaffirm this.”

“You bitch, do you really think you’re in a position to make fun of us? Just provide us with proper service, it’s not that hard.”

“Right. Proper maids serve in silence with a smile.”

Were all teenage men this way? Horny, aggressive, and rude? Even her male coworkers were at least one of the three, considering Ikki’s womanizing, Shin’s rough speech and actions, and Kent’s cold and inconsiderate tendencies. At least Toma didn’t act that way, but he was like an annoying helicopter parent that liked to boss her around, which she appreciated even less.

Clicking the pen off, Hera decided to go get Waka instead of continue trying to take their order. 

“Sir?”

“What is it, Hera?”

“Customers at table three just groped me under the pretense of trying to check I was taking their order right sir.” Hera would usually sugarcoat the situation but right now she didn’t feel like it. “I told them we don’t provide those services but they obviously aren’t taking no for an answer. I figured it would be best for you to decide how to handle the situation. And if you don’t mind sir, I’d like to take my break now.”

Waka’s eyebrows skyrocketed at her tone - a far cry from her usual sweet gentle voice. Though with the situation at hand he didn’t blame her.

“I see. Permission granted. I’ll handle the situation, thank you for notifying me.” He pulled up his gloves and pushed up his glasses and made for table three, a dark aura following him.

Back in the break room, Hera was slumped on the couch, eating the apple and peanut butter sandwich she’d cobbled together this morning like it was a feast, lamenting the lack of the bento locked in the forbidden depths of her fridge.

She was hungry enough not to care though, and when she finished she laid all the way down on the couch and pressed her hands against her eyes, wishing her headache would just go away already. Her boob was also kinda sore where the guy had jabbed it in his attempt to get a handful.

When she heard the sound of the break room door click and open, she didn’t even bother to move.

“Hera.” Great. That sounded like Kent.

“What?” She didn’t bother to sit up. “I’m on break.”

That was when the smell of food - some kind of cheesy pasta, she guessed - hit her nose. It was so good that she couldn’t bring herself to be ashamed of how she instantly started salivating.

She peeped through her hands. It looked just as delicious as the man holding it. Not that she’d ever had a chance to taste him. Now  that  was a dangerous train of thought, especially since her crush on him was clearly unrequited. It was pretty clear Kent wasn’t interested in dating, so she’d kind of given up on trying and resigned herself to admire him on her own.

“I noticed you were moving twenty percent more slowly than normal and look at the food you were serving 5 times more than usual. This has led me to believe that you may be hungry, so I brought this for you. Before you ask, yes, Waka has permitted it.” Kent said, setting the plate down on the break table, along with a fork, napkin, and bottle of water.

Hera took her hands off her eyes and raised her eyebrows.

“Wow really? Thanks.” She sat up and took the plate forking a large bite. Letting out a low groan at the rich taste, she wasted no time shoveling fork to mouth. 

Kent was watching her with his usual impassive look. 

“Maybe it’s just because I’m hungry, but right now this feels like the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Or maybe you’re just a genius in the kitchen.”

“Prolonged periods of time without food can cause large amounts of serotonin to be released upon the breaking of such a fast as the body’s way of naturally encouraging the brain to eat to regain the appropriate amount of nutrients.” Kent explained. Though Hera hadn’t asked for the Fun Facts, she didn’t mind this habit of his.

“This is more likely what you are experiencing. Although the taste buds do experience changes throughout late childhood and early puberty, they remain the same throughout adulthood. At your age they would not have made a change capable of such an effect.”

“That’s cool.” Hera remarked, setting the plate down to drink some water, feeling better now that she had eaten. “Just don’t go telling me all the nutritional information of the pasta because then I’m gonna feel guilty.”

“Well actually-”

“Ahh! Stop stop!” She covered her ears and glared at him. “I just said don’t tell me, don’t be mean.”

Kent did something then that she swore she never would have believed if she hadn’t experienced it for herself.

He smiled at her.

It didn’t last long though, because all too soon his expression returned to neutral and he held out the water bottle insistently. 

“I need to get back to the kitchen. Make sure to drink it all or else you will get dehydrated from the sodium in the mozarella.”

Hera was left holding the bottle numbly, watching the door close after the tall young man. Slowly unscrewing the top, she placed the lip against her mouth and took a sip.

Did that really just happen?

 ---

 Blissfully wrapped up in a cozy green blanket, Hera was sipping on a box of pineapple juice from the comfort of her sofa, her laptop balanced on her lap.

Work was over, her headache was gone thanks to the power nap she’d taken when she got home, and she was well fed. She hadn’t fully forgotten about the disgusting experience of a stranger grabbing a handful of her right breast, but leveling up three times in  Riddlemaster was doing a good job of getting her mind off it. The trivia-based game was as mentally stimulating as it was fun, and getting the answers right made her feel smart.

Hera just liked this sort of thing. Finding out weird explanations for things was so satisfying for some reason. That’s why she’d decided to major in psychology. 

On to the next question! Just two more and she’d unlock the next level and earn another 500 gold coins.

  The picture above is a ______ because of 

a) jaw and teeth

b) snout shape

c) both a and b

 Taking a moment to study the picture, Hera was pretty confident the creature in the image was a crocodile. The creature in the picture had a kind of wide snout compared to other crocodiles, but she recognized the interlocking snaggleteeth that differed from alligators which had overbites.

Filling in  crocodile  in the blank, and selecting  a  she pressed submit.

 Correct!

 Hera grinned smugly at the upbeat chirp of the game as she got the answer right.

Alright, last one before she reached level 40! Oh she couldn’t wait for those 500 coins, that was enough to buy her avatar two new outfits! She already knew which one she wanted too. They’d recently released a Summer Festival set that had 3 different colors of yukata with a beautiful floral pattern.

Hera wanted the pink one with the gold hair ornament.

  Which number represents the rate at which rabbits reproduce? This is called ______.

a) x = 1 + 2/x

b) 3.14

c) 1/89

d) 6.2831853071

 Shit. Math, her weakness. Well, there was no time limit to figuring out the answers to the questions, so she usually just googled the subject of the question and tried to figure out what the answer was based on what she read…in the spirit of not being a cheater. But she really had no idea on this one.

Clearly the second option was pi, she knew that much. The first one looked like an equation, but it wasn’t one she recognized as being related to anything that could have to do with rabbit reproduction.

Twenty minutes later and several videos and wiki pages about rabbit production later, and all she really knew was that rabbits were horny and she was thoroughly stumped. None of the articles had even mentioned anything about numbers or math.

Hera bit her lip. She was so close to getting her Summer Festival outfit… and her pride refused to allow her to cheat. But the outfit was a limited time item that would be removed from the store during maintenance on the 15th of August. That was a little over a week from now, but she didn’t have all the time in the world.

Time for her last resort. The oldest one in the book, phone a friend! Well, text actually. Opening up her cell, she typed out a message to Sawa.

 To: SawaiiK From: Hera-oine7 Date: 8-04 7:49:00

Hey (^-^)/   I know u r usually taking ur time in the bath right abt now, but if u have time can I get your help on smthg?

 She opened up the Riddlemaster store page in another tab while waiting for a reply. Using the preview function, she removed the usual outfit her character wore (a greek style ‘goddess’ outfit she thought would suit it, since her ign was GoddessHera) and applied the Summer Festival outfit and began playing around with the colors of the trim and embroidery.

It was good motivation.

Her phone beeped from beside her and she sat up to retrieve it.

  Hera! <3 Haha, yeah I was, but aniki made so much of a fuss about having to piss that I decided to just get out rather than argue with him abt using the 3 other bathrms in the house… -_-

And sure watsup? U were acting odd @work today, u feeling ok?

 Oh right, she had been in a mood to go home without socializing in the changing room like usual, so Sawa was probably still reeling from her pricklyness towards Mine that morning. 

Writing quickly, she replied.

  Oh nah, it’s nothing like that, I’m fine. I was just tired lol.

 She contemplated adding “ of Mine’s shit ” but that wasn’t very nice. The two might not get along ever since Mine overheard Hera talking to Sawa about her crush on Kent, but she wasn’t mean enough for Hera to justify talking trash about the girl for no reason.

  I just need help with a question on Riddlemaster again hehe. (- 3-)’ Its abt math. 

 Hera sent it and sipped some of her juice.

  LOL u r so addicted to that game! But ya ofc I’ll help. Wats the question

 Hera took a picture of her laptop screen and just sent the image file through text. Would take a lot less time than retyping the whole question.

It took a few minutes before Sawa to reply.

  Ok well. I tried but i have umm no freaking clue lol. (^~^)’’’ Neither does aniki. This is probly higher difficulty than normal college math. ...hey u know who u should ask? ;)

 Dang. Well, she wasn’t surprised, considering her googling efforts had proven completely useless.

  Idk, who?

 It was times like these that she wished her parents hadn’t passed away without leaving her any siblings.

  He’s TALL, he’s handsome, he’s rlly good at math, and you now have the perfect excuse 2 hang out with him :)

 Oh. Kent. Hera considered it, crushing her juice box now that it was just bubbling noisily. 

She’d written countless texts to him about all sorts of things hoping to start a conversation and catch his attention, but she’d deleted all of them because they were stupid and the last person she wanted to laugh at her was Kent. Or god forbid, think she was clingy.

But this was actually a situation where her asking him this made complete logical sense, so it was pretty safe.

The problem was, how would she turn it into something that would last more than 2 messages? It would be such a waste to squander this perfect opportunity. Her phone chirped again.

  Do it do it do it do it do it!!! Hera!! No hesitation, get yo man!! 

 Hera laughed at the message, Sawa was probably interpreting her lack of a response as her convincing herself out of asking Kent.

  Alright fine. Pray 4 me. 

  YESSSsss!! Tell me how it goes! It’s time for dinner so I’ll ttyl :)

 Okay now… the hard part. Clicking out of Sawa’s contact, she scrolled down and clicked on Kent’s. 

 To: KentSJ94 From: Hera-oine7 Date: 8-04 7:58

Hey Kent, it’s Hera. There’s something I need some help with. It’s a math problem, sort of. Would you be willing to meet up with me to help me figure it out? I’m free this Sunday.

 Hera re-read the message several times, seriously debating sending it. Was she really going to do this? What if he thought she was annoying for bothering him? After a moment she added on-

  If not that’s okay.  

 That should cover her bases right? He probably didn’t like girls that were demanding. Okay time to have courage.

Her finger hovered over the send button.

Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and hit send. YOLO.

“Oh my god I can’t believe I actually sent it to him.” Making a noise of distress, she quickly closed her phone and put it under a pillow. “Ugh, why did I do that.”

She almost hoped he didn’t see it. Too bad you can only delete the sender side of texts.

Hera chewed nervously on the inside of her lip. Maybe she should go do something. Just sitting here looking at her phone was making her freak out. A bath like Sawa? But she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. A bath with loud music then. Maybe BOP bass boosted... and chocolate. Nice thing about being alone was that nobody could catch her stress eating.

She’d barely set a foot in the direction of the bathroom when her phone chirped. Hera was so wound up, it spooked her into a harsh jump.

She slowly picked up the phone with dread. 

“Lord have mercy.”

 Re: Hera-oine7 KentSJ94 Date: 8-04 8:05

I will be at my house on Sunday working on my thesis presentation. Come over and I will help you with your problem. Notify me if the issue requires preparation.

 Hera stared at her phone.

No way. It actually worked? He had actually agreed to help and was inviting her over to his house.

...Maybe she should go buy a lottery ticket too.

 Re: KentSJ94 Hera-oine7

Date: 8-04 8:07

  Thank you so much Kent! I really appreciate it. See you Sunday @12:00?

 His house wasn’t far away- she’d been there once before just outside when she’d asked to turn in some math assignments late due to being in the hospital for anemia before. She just wanted the extra time to doll herself up thoroughly before she got there. She wasn’t a morning person and well, go hard or go home.

His reply was very quick this time. That didn’t surprise her though, she figured he was the kind to stay on the phone until a conversation was finished. It struck her as the more “efficient” thing to do.

 Re: Hera-oine7

KentSJ94

Date: 8-04 8:08

Yes.

 Hera kinda wanted to laugh, it was so like him to respond like that. Well, brevity is the soul of wit and all that.

Looking back at the message history, she re-read Kent’s messages several times. There was this weird bubbly feeling in her chest that was giving her the urge to cover her face and squeal as loudly as possible. 

Hera resisted it of course. She wasn’t a kid. But she did let out a particularly happy noise on her way to the bathroom that could only be described as a giggle.

Sue her, she was a girl in love. Grabbing her chocolate, she made for the bathtub, intent on taking a celebratory bath this time. Which of course, required sweets.

[darkprincessloki92]

Always here

Plot; The reader deals with severe ptsd, Someone she never really talked to becomes the one person she wants most

Pairing; Loki x Reader

Warning; Ptsd and fluff

A/N; This one is my personal experience with ptsd, it’s not perfect so please be nice.

Running through the streets of new york, explosions booming around me. I get thrown by a blast and hit a brick wall. Jolting awake, sweat running down my forehead. My heart racing 1,000 miles a minute. Running my hands through my hair, sitting up trying to calm myself down. Using the breathing exercising my counselor told me to try. But nothing was helping. I decide to take a walk. The Avengers tower at 2 in the morning, everyone will be asleep. So it’s perfect. Slipping on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt I make my way to the community area. The only sound that can be heard is my quiet footsteps against the concrete floor. My hands still shaking, nerves on edge. Confirming that everyone was asleep. I made my way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Maybe bake something. Yes, that always calms me down. Grabbing almost everything I need. I realized I am missing the flour, Of course, it’s put on the top shelf. Standing on my tiptoes, misjudging the weight I dropped the glass container on the floor. The loud crash made my PTSD rage. I screamed and hit the floor, My head was spinning my chest was pounding everything seemed too much. I curled in a ball and began to cry.

Suddenly a cold hand rested on my shoulder. I could hear someone trying to talk to me. But I can't quite understand what the voice is saying. Suddenly I am lifted off the ground and placed on the kitchen counter. Looking up I see him. Rubbing my eyes to make sure all of the tears are gone and to check if I am awake. Yet here he stood, the look in his eyes was unmistakable. Filled with concern and confusion. “Lady (y/n) please tell me what I can do?” Clinging onto his shirt I pull him close and hug him tight. He seems put off but eventually hugs me in return. I couldn’t seem to form words through my sobs. Yet, Loki seemed to know what to do. He picks me up and takes me to my room. Places me at the end of the bed. Materializing a bunch of pillows he places them all around the bed in a sort of mountain. Picks me up again and places me in the middle. Wraps the blanket around me and holds me tight. Rubbing my back he hums a song to me. I don’t recognize it. It must be something from Asgard. Eventually, my sobs subsided and I stopped shaking. Yet he continued to rub my back. Trying to sit up on my elbow he just looks down at me with a smile. “All better?” I still can not form words so I simply nod at him. He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. Getting up he leaves the room assuming I needed some space, and he was right. Unraveling the fortress he made for me I hop in the shower.

*******

Leaving the plane my head is throbbing, The rest of the team kept asking me if I was alright. I simply brushed them off and headed towards my room to simply cry. They all looked at Loki. Who in turn simply shrugs, “I do not know what is wrong with her.” Deep down he knows, My tone of voice changes. I want more space than usual. I am always smiling and happily full of jokes. He makes his way to his room to try and figure out how to help. As I am walking down the hall I feel even more anxious than before. Walking past Loki i noticed he was in his room. Sitting on his bed, reading I assume. But the tears in my eyes don't care. I turn around and walk into his room. “Hi---hi Loki…” He tilts his head “Hello darling? Can I help you?” Rubbing my arms. “No I'm sorry, never mind.” Turning to walk away he grabs my arm. “Please tell me. You came all the way to tell me ‘Never mind.’ Do not lie to the god of lies.” Finally turning to face him the tears you ran to his bed and covered myself with his blanket.

Curling up in his bed I began to cry uncontrollably. Feeling the bed dip and he pulls up the blanket so he can peek at me. “Hey, why are those beautiful blue eyes filled with tears?” The tears wouldn’t stop, just screwing my eyes shut trying to calm myself down. But Loki will not give in. He turns out most of the lights. Settling down by the window turning on the lamp he began to read. After about an hour my nerves calm and my limbs stop shaking. I slowly sit up and look for Loki. He is still reading, looking up from his book he smiles. “Hello sweetheart, are you feeling better?” I nod, Loki stands up, “Are you hungry? What would you like to eat?” I sniffled, “Something comforting.” He nods, *sniffle* “Pasta.” He chuckles, “Pasta? That doesn't sound very comforting.” *sniffle* “I am Italian, we find pasta comforting.” Holding his hand out. “Let us go and get your pasta.” I took his hand, “Can we make it here?” Tilting his head. “Would that make you feel better?” Quickly I nod, “Yes, It would make me feel amazing.”

Soon we were in the kitchen I was teaching Loki what the meaning of “Homemade.” His face scrunched up, “How do you know if the noodles are complete?” I giggled, “Here.” Grabbing a noodle from the spoon I threw it against the cabinet. “If it sticks then it’s done!” Loki smiles, “I like the misguardian ways.” tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “See, we aren't all that bad.” Loki grabs some plates and sets them on the counter. “You are one of my favorites.” Almost dropping the pasta, “I am?” Loki runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat. “Spending time with you and getting to know you when you are at your most vulnerable. I realized that I was you once. I had what you call PTSD. I, however, had no one to comfort or confide in. I would like it if you would allow me to court you and be by your side.” Standing next to him I stand on my tiptoes and hug his neck. “Yes, thousand times yes.” He grabs my hand and places me at the counter. “Now eat your dinner and be happy.” I smile, “I don't need this pasta to be happy. "

[chocktaw-salchow]

TRANSLATION: Bruno Massot: “I would have never had that in France”

Original: https://www.lequipe.fr/Patinage-artistique/Article/Bruno-massot-je-n-aurais-jamais-eu-ca-en-france/885594

Crowned Olympic Champion in Pairs with Aliona Savchenko at the Pyeongchang Games, the Norman skater has no  regrets having taken German nationality.

By Sophie Tutkovics

Born in Caen 29 years ago, Bruno Massot competed last month for Germany at the Pyeongchang Olympic Games, where he won the Olympic title in pairs figure skating with his partner of Ukrainian origin Aliona Savchenko. Since then, he has done a series of galas in Switzerland before returning to training in their German base of Oberstdorf to prepare for the World Championships that start Wednesday in Milan. “We will not really be ready, we are very worn out,” he explained, “it’s sort of a bonus competition for us…”  Meanwhile, in this grand hotel in Zurich, he is pleasantly surprised with the continuing interest from the French press.

When you were on the podium in Pyeongchang and the German anthem started playing…

(He cuts me off with a smile) Needless to say, it’s necessary to drop this question!

…What were you thinking?

Frankly, I had the same feelings, the same emotions as if it were the French anthem.  But regardless, French anthem or German anthem, I was incapable of singing because the emotion was to great.  I feel really good in Germany, I am very happy here and I am more than proud to bring them this medal because they gave me a chance. And they still helped me even when we weren’t allowed to skate (in competitions and galas) for a year and a half (waiting for a letter of release from the French Federation).

But what were you thinking on the podium?

I can’t really say what I was thinking in that moment. There were so many emotions.  There must have been a million things that went through my head.  I saw the German flag rising and I was truly happy.  But I think I would have had the same emotion if it was France.  There are still a large number of people who follow me in France, especially in Normandy, in my city of Caen.  I was happy for all those people too and, of course, my family.

Conversely, did you get a negative reaction from people who did not understand your change of nationality?

Certain people told me that I disowned my country, that I left my homeland.  In my opinion, people act like that first of all because it’s Germany, in relation to the past.  But we must grow, the war is over, we are in 2018, we need to stop the madness!

But you are from a generation that did not know the war…

(He cuts me off) No, but my family suffered from it.  My grandmother had 8 sisters and two of them were killed during D-day (the Normandy landing in 1944).  So I come from a family that talked about that.  And actually for my father, this medal for Germany is very important.  It shows that despite everything that has happened, now we have formed a continent.  There are no more borders.  I know that it’s important for my family and I think it’s great.  But there are always people who are not happy that I left my country.

What is your response?

I try to explain that life in sports is not that simple, that there are a lot of politics around us and that kills us.  I try to explain my history to them so that they understand why I left France.  Even if I don’t like to say that.  I didn’t leave [t/n: abandon] France… There are many things I would like to say, but I’ll leave it there.  I don’t want to get hit later.  I will just say that, when I had to choose between France and Germany, I listened to the offers from the French federation and the German federation and I went with the country that offered me the better living conditions, above all, and the best training conditions.  And by living conditions, I’m also talking about financially because I was living with nothing.  I was living on 200 euros a month during those 18 months where I was stuck.  But the (German) federation paid for my apartment, gave me money to eat too because with 200 euros, I couldn’t do very much.  They paid for my training, my ice time.  I never had that in France. Never.

When you have 200 euros a month, what do you eat?

The benefit is that in Germany things are a little cheaper, so that was already a big plus. But I ate lots of pasta and rice.  I had to pay attention because, as a skater, we cannot eat like that.  We have to watch our weight.  My fiancée also had some savings and my parents helped me.  I can still hear my mother crying on the phone when I asked for money.  Because at 20 years old, I wasn’t able to live on my own.  She was sad to realize that I was living in such bad conditions.  I was staying in a tiny studio apartment. The president of the Oberstdorf skating rink gave me all my furniture because I arrived in Germany with nothing. Just my car.  At one point, I even thought I was going to sleep in my car…

At that moment, you said to yourself : It’s not normal that I am being reduced to this?

I didn’t have very much, but I was not unhappy.  Because of the federation there, because I discovered that it was for the athletes.  I had never known that.  In France - now I’m going to throw something out there - to get something, you have to give something first. They work completely opposite to the French federation.  In Germany, they help us to get the results.  Whereas in France they do the opposite. They help the people who already have the results, it’s not logical.

Then your letter of release did not arrive, month after month, were you discouraged?

Very. Eighteen months in total, it doesn’t seem that long, but when you do the same training routine every day without knowing why, it becomes extremely long… I skated like a lunatic, I worked like crazy to obtain the level I have now, but I never kept asking myself: but why I am doing this? Perhaps I’ll never be free… Perhaps I will never be able to go the Olympics…I will never be able to show everyone what I am capable of… What’s the point? And so, inevitably, the days when training didn’t go as well, each time we discussed with Aliona and we said: what’s the point? Just to go pro, do shows and earn money.

Are you saying that you almost didn’t go to the Olympic Games?

Oh yes, we almost quit. Completely. When an athlete is stuck, lots of things cross their mind. A great deal.

The president of the French federation Didier Gailhaguet, congratulated you for your olympic title?

Yes. Twice. For the medal of course, and also for what I said in the media.  It’s for that reason that I’m not sure if he will congratulate me after this interview… But hey, at some point, I am going to stop lying.  It’s important to talk about these things.  People have to open their eyes.  That’s what I don’t understand: everyone knows Gailhaguet, everyone knows what he is like, but why is he still here? Now I am with Germany, so I am no longer scared of anything anymore [t/n: repercussions].

He demanded money from the German federation for your letter of release…

It was initially 100,000 euros, from what I know, then 70,000€, 50,000€ and finally 30,000.  But the thing is that when I went on October 26, 2015 to get my letter of release, I didn’t know it was in exchange for money.  Me, I thought that he gave me my letter and voila, I was free. But no it was subject to payment, I was not aware.

Did you think about your partner, Aliona Savchenko, becoming French?

It was not just a citizenship problem.  We had to find out if it was possible for her to compete at the Games for three different countries (after Ukraine and Germany). We never got a response and for that reason we chose Germany: we didn’t want to take the risk of skating for France and then two weeks before the games, find out ‘Oh it’s not possible you can go’. Besides that, it would not have been a problem to skating for France if we had the right conditions.  We just needed that.  To start with, Aliona was ready to skate for France. But since we never had a response to our questions, we chose the country that gave us the answers.

It’s the first Olympic title for Germany in figure skating since Katarina Witt, in 1988 (for East Germany), and the first title in pairs in 66 years. You made the newspaper headlines?

We saw many journalists in Pyeongchang and, apparently, it had the effect of a bomb in Germany.  We were on the front page of all the newspapers! Our return to Frankfurt was magical. We had an airplane with Team D written on side, we met the pilots, we took photos with them, it was great! I know that it’s rare nowadays, but it was them who wanted to met us. And after landing, there was a huge crowd out on the tarmac.

They easily adopted you, you the French and Aliona the Ukrainian…

What they are looking for above all is the potential.  What do they want? Results, medals! And voila, they do what they need to get them.  And they do what they do in the right direction, quite simply.  In France, they also accept foreigners.  But they don’t let the French leave… For them in once sense it’s normal but in the other direction, no.

When Aliona, 5 time world champion, chose you, did you not think that the world would think that your results would be thanks to her?

There are plenty of people that still say that. Many congratulate Aliona and pretend I was not there.  But I know what I do and how hard I worked to get there.  And I also hear the people that tell me: “You did exactly what you needed to do, you equaled it.  And you became stronger than her old partner.”

Aliona is 34 years old. At first glance, this is her last season…

For the moment we haven’t talked about that.  We still don’t really know what we’re going to do.  We plan to talk about that right after the World Championships.  Because we also need to think about our health.  I have back problems, she had other problems with her knees and ankles.  So we need to think and see what will be best for us. But, frankly, if Aliona decides to retire, I will retire too.  I don’t think I could find anyone better. And what’s more, Olympic champion, what better result could you have? I have had a long and difficult career.  I’m exhausted physically, but also mentally

A NEW IDEA FOR PAIRS

Since a Frenchman and a Ukrainian can become Olympic champions for Germany, why not propose another type of innovation to the ISU, the very conservative international skating federation? When will there be pairs of two women or two men competing?  Bruno Massot did not evade the question.  “In shows, two French skaters have already done that.  They perform incredible acrobatics and it’s really very impressive.  From there to see it in competition, I don’t know… That would be something completely different for certain, it would have a different artistic effect… But hey anything is possible. I am a person pretty open to everything.  Why not? But it would take time for it to appear in competition and to see it at the Olympics, that would take even more time”.

[captaincanarygotmelike]

Fic: Voices Carry ch. 22

*pictures are not mine*

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction.net

“Daddy was gonna cry when he saw you, Mommy,” Avery gleefully announced.

“He was?” Sara asked, looking above her daughter’s head to smirk at Leonard.

The ceremony had gone by in what felt like seconds, and before either of them knew it, they were at their reception, sitting at a large wooden table watching Laurel try to coerce her dad onto the dance floor.

“Uh-huh, ‘cos you looked so beautiful in your dress,” Avery nodded.

“Are you selling me out?” Leonard asked her.

“Yeah,” she giggled.

The reception Iris and Cisco put together was beyond anything either Leonard or Sara could have imagined. They had built (or they had hired someone to build, rather) a frame with a tall sloping ceiling not unlike one for a tent, but made of a dark, worn wood.

“Holy crap, guys,” Sara had said when she first saw it, “This looks amazing.”

“Thanks,” Iris said proudly, “Just wait until it gets darker.”

She was right. Lanterns and strings of lights hung from the wooden frame, lighting up the tables scattered around the edge of a black and white dance floor as the sun was beginning to set.

“You do look beautiful,” Leonard told Sara.

“He’s right, you do,” Avery nodded vigorously.

“Thanks, Avie,” Sara chuckled.

“How’re the bride and groom doing?”

Sara looked over her shoulder to see Felicity standing behind her chair.

“Good,” she smiled as Leonard nodded.

“You’re eating?” she asked, “Because at my wedding I was so preoccupied with things I barely ate anything at all.”

“You had a whole plate of those stuffed clam things by yourself,” Sara reminded her.

“I know.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be up there right now?” Sara asked.

Barry had just given his best man toast, which greatly resembled what he had said to Leonard earlier that day (although he’d left the stuff about his criminal past out, which Leonard couldn’t help but be grateful for).

“I’m letting everyone recover,” Felicity said before taking a sip from her champagne glass, “ ‘Kay, I’m gonna go now.”

They watched as Felicity made her way to the middle of the dance floor. She tapped the top of the microphone Caitlin handed to her and all heads turned towards her.

“So I think it’s my turn now,” Felicity said, “Not that I’ve ever needed permission to talk about how much I love Sara.”

She paused for a moment.

“I have known Sara for a long time,” she began, “since even before Avery was born, although I bet Sara probably doesn’t even remember what that’s like.”

“I don’t,” Sara chuckled as everyone laughed.

“Only about a month ago, Sara was giving her maid of honor toast at mywedding, and what she said was perfect and amazing just like everything she does. She told me after that she made it up on the fly because, as she said, when you’re in the presence of people who are really, trulyin love, talking about it is effortless. You can feel it just being in the room with them. Now, my speech is not on the fly because, as many of you now, I am not the most eloquent person, but being here, I can feel that real, true love Sara was talking about. They make each other happy. I’ve known Sara for a long time, and this is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Thank you, Leonard, for being such a positive force in her life. I wish you both a lifetime of love and happiness.”

She nodded and then handed the microphone back to Caitlin.

Sara stood to hug her friend.

“I mean it,” Felicity said into her hair.

“I love you so much,” Sara said.

“I love you too.”

The next half hour was spent sitting around their tables, eating dinner and talking together as seventies and eighties music floated around them.

“Daddy!” Avery gasped as a new song began to play, “It’s the song!”

A few weeks earlier, when Leonard was making dinner and Avery was sitting at the counter coloring on pink construction paper, “Let’s Stay Together” started playing on the radio.

“This is one of my favorite songs,” he had commented as he poured a box of pasta into a pot of boiling water.

Avery looked up from her drawing.

“Really?” she asked. He nodded.

“My mom used to play it a lot when I was around your age.”

“Is it from a Disney movie?” she had asked.

“No,” he chuckled, “It’s Al Green.”

Thirty minutes later, Sara returned from work to hear “Let’s Stay Together” being played for the eighteenth time, Avery dancing in circles around the living room, singing along with the chorus as Leonard set the table for dinner.

“Come dance with me!” Avery said. She hopped out of Leonard’s lap and tugged on his hand, “Daddy, please!”

Sara smiled as Leonard stood up, letting Avery pull him towards the dance floor.

A moment later, Laurel sat down in his empty chair.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi.”

“This is all so beautiful,” she said, looking around them, “You really didn’t hire a wedding planner?”

“Nope,” Sara shook her head, “Just a few friends who really didn’t want us wasting an opportunity to throw a huge-ass party.”

Laurel laughed. Sara looked back to the dance floor where Avery was holding Leonard’s hand above her head, twirling around underneath it.

“He seems like a great dad,” Laurel said.

“He is,” Sara nodded, smiling.

“Let’s go dance,” she said, taking her sister’s hand and pulling her to her feet. Sara followed her to the dance floor, “Remember when I had my first dance in middle school, and that guy asked me to go with him and I was nervous because I’d never slow-danced before—”

“— and you made me practice with you,” Sara finished.

“How old even were you then?”

“Probably like eight,” she laughed.

They watched Avery twirled in circles, her skirt fluttering around her, until she bumped into her mother’s legs.

“Come dance with me, Avie,” Sara said, lifting her up

As Leonard watched Sara dance with Avery, Laurel walked over to him.

“Hey, you having fun?”

“This isn’t usually my scene,” he said, “but yes, I actually am.”

“Good,” she nodded, “Look, I apologized to Sara, but I think I owe you one too. I’m really sorry I sort of accidentally directed Nate towards you guys. I know he gave you all a hard time.”

“It’s okay,” he nodded, “It’s in the process of,” he paused, “resolving itself.”

Laurel chuckled.

“What?”

“No, it’s just that Sara said the same thing.”

“She did?”

“Um-hmm,” she nodded, “You guys are really great together.

“Avery’s dancing with someone and it isn’t me?” they heard someone explain

They both looked over in time to see Avery run over and jump into Felicity arms, letting her swing her around in circles.

Leonard felt someone grab his hand.

“You wanna dance, Leonard?” Sara asked, a smirk on her lips. Leonard didn’t answer, just wrapped his arms around her waist as Sara draped her arms around his neck.

A half-hour later, Leonard found himself standing on the edge of the dance floor, watching Sara dance with her father and Avery shriek with laughter as Oliver threw her into the air, catching her on the way down.

“Snart.”

Leonard turned towards the gruff voice and saw that it belonged to Mick Rory.

“Mick,” he said, “You made it.”

“I thought you were already married.”

“What?”

“All those times we talked about your wife Sara,” Mick said.

“I don’t think I ever said she was my wife — no, I know I didn’t because up until about two hours ago, she wasn’t.”

“Oh. Well, congratulations either way.”

“Thanks.”

Neither said anything for a while. They stood, not facing each other, silently looking out onto the dance floor.

“I saw you dancing with your daughter — she is your daughter, right?”

“Yes, she is,” he replied, almost chuckling.

“Cute kid. She looks like you.”

Leonard didn’t know how to respond.

“You’re actually doing this?” Mick asked a moment later.

“Doing what?”

“Y’know, the carpools and runny noses and changing diapers.”

“Yeah,” he replied, not bothering to tell him Avery hadn’t worn diapers in years, “I am.”

After another moment, Mick said, “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Not my crowd. Congratulations again.”

“Thanks.”

“See you, Snart.”

Leonard nodded. He watched Mick’s retreating form for a minute before sitting down at the table, content to simply observe the events of the party. Avery was now running around in the field with two of her friends from preschool. Sara was dancing with Felicity and Iris to an upbeat eighties song he knew he’d heard before, but couldn’t name.

He thought about what Lisa had said to him earlier about how a wife and a daughter weren’t something he’d thought were in the cards for him.

She wasn’t wrong.

When he was younger — not quite as young as Avery, more like early teenage years — he’d figured he would probably never end up getting married. His father had often told him,  usually as motivation for a job, that women loved a man who had money.

Earned their money, he’d always thought, not stolen it from banks and museums.

Sure, he’d dated some people, he supposed, both during his years at college and the few after, but after he’d acquired the cold gun and taken on the Captain Cold persona, he’d figured he shouldn’t even bother anymore. His morals may be grey at best, but he was certainly not going to lie to someone about who he was, and he didn’t think there was anybody on Earth who could possibly deal with who he was, never mind love him.

Yet here he was, at his wedding.

It was actually sort of amazing to him that Sara was able to look past all the things he’d done as Captain Cold. Looking back to the first few months they’d known each other, he’d done some things he wasn’t proud of. He’d threatened Avery, he remembered, in the warehouse by the docks. Sara had been pointing a gun at his chest, threatening to undo all the work he’d done to stop Merlyn and the Markov device. That didn’t excuse what he’d said.

If you want your daughter alive, you won’t turn me in.

It was an empty threat, but now, knowing how much he loved Avery, he couldn’t believe he’d said it.

And he couldn’t believe Sara hadn’t skewered him on the spot.

She’d always seen him for more than he thought he could be, even in his darkest moments.

“Daddy!” Avery said, running up to him, “The cupcakes are here!”

“They are?” he asked, “Are they as good as you remember?”

“Yeah!”

Several months ago, Cisco had asked Leonard and Sara to come down to S.T.A.R. Labs for cake testing. They, as part of their crusade to participate in the wedding planning as little as possible while also simultaneously driving Cisco crazy, had dropped Avery off at the lab and told him to go with whatever she picked. After an hour of trying cakes from every gourmet bakery in the area, Avery chose vanilla cupcakes with vanilla frosting. Cisco was irate.

“And,” Avery continued excitedly, “I told Cisco that I wanted the frosting to be pink, and guess what!”

“What?” Leonard asked.

“It’s pink!”

Judging by what was smeared on Avery’s cheeks, Cisco had gone with peach frosting rather than pink to better match his color scheme, but evidently Avery either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“Nice choice, Avie,” Sara said, running a hand across Leonard’s shoulders before she sat next to him, setting a plate of cupcakes on the table, “These are freaking amazing.”

“Look, Mommy,” Avery said, “I put the flower in my hair.”

She turned her head to show the flower messily tucked behind her ear.

“You mean the flower made of frosting?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Great.”

They all looked over at the sound of someone tapping on the microphone.

“I hope you’re all is having a great time tonight,” Felicity said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like everyone to follow me.”

“What is happening?” Leonard asked Sara.

“I have no idea,” she replied, eyebrows furrowed as they got to their feet.

Felicity led everyone past the edge of the wooden structure and out onto the open field. They stopped just before the grass began to slope down into rolling hills.

“Okay,” Felicity said, “We all came together to celebrate Len and Sara and we can’t do that without mentioning Miss Avery. Avery is the strongest little girl I’ve ever seen and she’s been with her mom and dad every step of the way. I asked her if she wanted to say or do anything special today, and she said the daily bubble.”

“I’m gonna cry,” Sara said, shaking her head. Leonard wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her towards him.

“The daily bubble is a tradition that Avery and Sara started two years ago,” Felicity continued, “Can you tell us about the daily bubble, Avie?”

She lowered the microphone to Avery’s height.

“We make a really big bubble and then see how many seconds ’til it pops,” she said, “The most we ever got is eleven seconds but we wanna beat it.”

“They do it every day, rain or shine,” Felicity said, “and today we’re going to do the daily bubble with all of you.”

Avery took the pink plastic bubble wand Felicity handed her and ran over to her parents.

“Can you do it?” Avery asked, holding the wand out to her mother.

“Yeah,” Sara said, blinking back tears as she took the bubble wand.

Leonard picked Avery up, both watching Sara.

She sank the wand into the Tupperware container of soapy water, the same container she had used the day when Avery, two years old at the time, was near-tantrum with boredom and Sara had looked up how to make bubbles and clicked on the first website she saw. They went through a whole container of the stuff before Sara finally said, “that’s enough for today. We’ll see if we can make them longer tomorrow”.

She held the dripping wand in front of her for a moment before lifting it up and pulling it through the air until a beach ball sized bubble formed.

“One,” Avery instantly began.

“Two,” more people joined her.

“Three.”

Sara stood on her toes to kiss Leonard, Avery still in his arms.

“Four.” By now nearly everyone was counting.

“Five.”

The bubble ebbed and flowed as the wind pushed it across the sky.

“Six.”

“I love you, Sara,” Leonard murmured as he pulled away.

“Seven.”

“I love you too,” Sara said, her voice low enough only to be heard by him.

“Eight.”

Leonard thought about Felicity’s toast, how she echoed the things Lisa and Barry had said to him earlier. They all saw how happy they were, how happy he was.

“Nine.”

He held Avery in his arms, feeling Sara lean against his side as they all watched the bubble float over the hills and out towards the trees below. He thought about how lucky he was to be with these people who changed his heart.

“Ten.”

And he was.

“Eleven.”

Happy.

“Twelve…”

[imdifferentshadesofpurple]

Just a Cobb Salad Please.

Date #5 of the Bad First Date Chronicles Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader

It’s just a week after your break up with Jinyoung that you meet the infamous Jackson Wang - chef extraordinaire and owner of the new vegan restaurant in town. 

You’re there for lunch with some co-workers, browsing the vast menu, when whispers start up around you. When you ask what’s got everyone murmuring, a friend points to the back, towards the kitchen, and you see Jackson donning an apron as he yells orders to his nearby sous chef. 

You can’t deny he’s handsome, dark hair falling over eyes that are smiling as he grins at some joke that was said. His hands work fast with the vegetables he’s holding, muscles taunt - even under the white of his chef’s coat.

You find yourself watching him, entranced with the way he works. It reminds you a bit of your father’s own restaurant and the times you’d sit on one of the counters, eating his famous spaghetti, so impressed with his cooking abilities. 

When Jackson’s eyes meet yours, as if he could hear your thoughts, his grin widens and you’re amused to find him winking at you as he cooks. You also can’t deny how flattered you are, or the sudden sinking feeling in your chest when you remember Jinyoung.

“You okay Y/N,” a co-workers asks, eyes laced with concern.

You turn your focus to him and nod, giving him a small smile. “Of course. Just a bit overwhelmed with the menu, everything looks incredible!”

He laughs, “Doesn’t it? I recommend a pasta dish. The flavors are absolutely fantastic.”

You thank him and do your best to ignore the steady gaze you feel on your back, even when you’ve finished your meal and are saying goodbye outside.

Jinyoung leaving left you in what you could only describe as a pit of uncertainty. 

For four months, you had molded a routine with him that no longer held any meaning. 

You woke up alone, went to sleep alone. You ate meals made for one and had a clearer bathroom counter, now that his things didn’t sit beside yours. 

It was odd and you found it difficult to jump into a new routine.

Which you guess is why you find yourself having dinner with Jackson three weeks later. 

He had cornered you in the market, just days after you had first seen each other, demanding that your chemistry with him “be allowed to flourish to its full potential”. You had laughed at that, the first truly light feeling since your breakup. 

You didn’t know whether to agree or not, you were newly single, but Youngjae’s prodding one Saturday morning had pushed you to say yes.

“It’s just dinner. You’re able to decide if you want something more. There’s nothing wrong with moving forward, no matter the time that’s passed.”

And Jackson was sweet, a shot of loud and bubbly, optimism overflowing in the conversations you shared. 

Your only problem (why couldn’t you be less picky?) was the lack of communication when it came to something quite basic and simple.

Food.

It was a weirdly stupid thing, you couldn’t wrap your head around it, but Jackson had a habit of always (always) choosing what you were going to eat.

“I can read you really well,” he’d always say, “you definitely want this tonight.”

Spoiler alert.

He couldn’t read you that well.

It’s not that you didn’t have anything in common. It’s just that...he never let you choose what to eat. And you were such a foodie, you died everytime his choice wasn’t...well it just wasn’t it.

“She’ll have a cobb salad,” he says one night, folding the menu happily and passing it to the waitress.

“...just a cobb salad miss?”

You open your mouth to object but he’s quicker - and louder. 

“That’s it!”

She shoot you a look, one that asks how someone as handsome as Jackson could be a little inconsiderate. I smile, shrugging, as she takes our orders to the kitchen.

“They have great salads Y/N, you’ll love it.”

Another spoiler alert.

It could be the best cobb salad in the history of cobb salads but...you hated cobb salads.

“What even is a cobb and why did they put it in a salad,” Mark had exclaimed once when you were twelve, hands thrown in the air as his skateboard rolled away from him.

You smile at the memory and Jackson catches it. “Happy tonight?”

You meet his eyes, the slight glimmer in your eye dimming. “Oh. Oh! Yes. Of course.”

Something flashes across his features, something you aren’t able to catch quick enough. But he seems to be fine and dinner continues, all the way to dessert where he, once again, chooses something for you.

The cobb salad taste seems to linger far into the evening, much to your dismay.

He lets you down easy through a text.

“I don’t think we should see each other again.”

You don’t feel much and you ask Youngjae if that means you’re empty.

Or heartless.

“Neither,” he replied, taking your hand in his, “you’re looking for happiness. You want to be loved, all of us do. But maybe, for now, you should try the single life. It isn’t so bad and anything has to be better than getting your hopes up with all these guys you’re meeting.”

You sigh, pouting into your cup of coffee. “Youngjae-yah. I’ve tried the single thing. And the couple thing. Neither work for me well, I should just move to a cave and be forever alone. Die there surrounded by strawberry milk and my favorite pillows. Mark said once he could see that happening.”

He smiles, “You know, you talk about him sometimes. When do I get to meet the best friend?”

You still, unable to answer. You didn’t know, you haven’t spoken to Mark in months. His older sister said he was living the life in Taiwan, enjoying family time and soaking up any sun he could get. 

But you knew he was ignoring you. You just didn’t know why.

And the coward in you was too afraid to find out.

...call it a character flaw. 

“He’s been so busy,” you tell him, trying to act casual, “but soon.”

“Soon. I’ll keep that in mind. I’m dying to meet him, he seems important to you.”

Another voicemail, probably the thousandth one you’ve left since he’s been gone. 

“Hi. I don’t know if you remember me? Your best friend? The one that’s been attached to your hip since before you could walk? Taiwan must be something if you refuse to return any of my calls and texts. I just - look. I miss you. I don’t know how many of these I have to leave before you talk to me Mark. You went on vacation. Or so that’s what you said. But vacations usually mean returning. And you haven’t. Can’t you please, please - “ 

“....hello?”

You heart stops when someone answers. A someone that definitely isn’t Mark.

“Uh. Hi, hello. Is Mark Tuan there?”

A very feminine chuckle sounds from the other end. “You’re the girl that won’t stop calling, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

She tsks, “Look. Listen really well okay? He doesn’t listen to your voicemails. He sees your messages, your calls, and deletes everything. Are you his stalker or something? Because when I asked about you, he brushes you off and tells me to forget about it. I don’t know who you are or what you were to him, but he doesn’t seem to want to deal with you so...can you stop? He shuts his phone off sometimes just so the ringing would quit. It’s kind of annoying - your persistence.”

Any words, any semblance of a sentence, die in the back of your throat. Swallowing and trying to steady your voice, you ask, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Her voice is laced with a cocky tone that makes your skin itch and the back of your eyes burn, breath labored and time stopping when she answers.

“I’m his girlfriend.”

And in another second, or what feels like a whole year, there’s a sound in the background that makes your heart pound heavily within your rib cage.

“Hey, who’s on the phone?”

Mark. Mark.

He sounds the same, yet different. Every part of you aches suddenly, fingers itching to touch his warm skin or his soft hair. Every moment of your lives together flash in front of you like a sped up film and you want to call out to him.

You want to yell at him. You want to cry and ask him why he hasn’t come home.

But his girlfriend’s voice stops you when she simply says, “Wrong number.”

The line goes dead and you feel like your heart has too.

a/n: two left, jaebum & mark (aka mr. i have a girlfriend lol). thanks for all the love for this mini series thingamabob. i love that you guys love it. for the previous dates with the other members, check out the masterlist linked above. @bread-jinie COBB SALAD LOL.

[imgilmoregirl]

Hi! I had just reas your little thing about Alice and Robin, and I were wondering if you could write that Rumbelle scene you talked about, that angst moment of losing the child...

Oh, anon, you just asked for angst to the right person. I should quit writing such dramatic scenes, but uh, well, I can’t, so here we go! I’ll be answering the next prompt tomorrow morning, because I’m off to do some stuff right now ;).

This work can also be found on AO3

Summary: Rumple and Belle wanted a second chance at parenthood, but sometimes, things don’t go as planned.

Gone Too Soon

Theywere happy, genuinely happy. Belle found out during their trip to Italy, morespecifically in Verona, such a beautiful place that she had been wanting to seefor so long. Their flight to there had been a torture a her, as her stomach hadbeen twisting painfully all the time and nothing she ate stayed there for toolong. Gideon was six at the time, distracting himself with an animated moviewhile his papa took care of his mama, offering her water when she started tolook pale, wondering what kind of illness she could have.

However,when they landed, Belle told him to wait while she supposedly went to thedrugstore to buy some medicine and went back a while later with the pregnancytest hidden safely inside her bag. She took it as soon as they arrived thehotel, the tears streaming down her face when it came to be positive. They hadbeen trying for another child for years now and she couldn’t believe they werefinally getting it. Belle wiped her tears and prepared herself to dinner,wanting to make a surprise to Rumple.

Thefamily went to nice restaurant where Gideon ate lots of pasta, as they talkedand she guaranteed her husband she was feeling better than never. By the end ofthe night, when Rumple had tucked Gideon into bed and met her in the balcony,Belle gave him the test, wrapped in golden paper, with a beautifully silver bowon it. He kissed her fervently telling her how much he loved her and how he wasgoing to spoil that baby and she laughed happily in his arms, because she hadeverything she wanted now.

Gideonwas pretty excited with the prospect of being a big brother and they continuedto travel as the weeks went by, Rumple constantly taking pictures of her. Hewas mesmerized to get the chance to watch the growth of her tiny bump as hehadn’t in any of the previous times he became a father and she couldn’t be moredelighted to be sharing this with him. But deep down, Belle knew that whenthings seemed to be too perfect, it was because something bad was about tohappen. And it in fact didn’t take long to.

Itwas their second day in Greece and she had spent a long time playing withGideon in the pool splashing water in his face as he did the same with her,just as if she was a kid too. Rumple had a good laugh watching them and he evengot to swim a little too. Everything was nice and sweet and she ended the nightcurled in his arms, too tired to do anything other than sleep. The pain hadstarted after dinner but she didn’t pay much attention to it, because shethought it could be due to something she ate, but by the time she went to bed,it had become something really uncomfortable.

Bellehid her face on Rumple’s chest trying to take a deep breath as she covered herstomach with a hand, feeling the firm curve that should assure her that thechild was growing strong and healthy, but the pain was there, just like cruelcramps like the ones she had sometimes during her period. However, sheshouldn’t be feeling it now and the panic started to fill her, making her heartrace as she looked up at her husband.

“Rumple,something is wrong with the baby,” Belle said, watching as his calm eyesbecame wide. “I’m in pain.”

Hesat up on the bed, bringing Belle with him and looking down as his hand touchedher bump, that was went he noticed that her pyjama bottoms were damp and red.

“Sweetheart,you’re bleeding.”

Shegasped and, in a heartbeat, he was on his feet, getting dressed and wakingGideon up, telling him they needed to take mama to the hospital, but Bellecouldn’t move. It was like her whole world had been paralyzed and all she coulddo was to stare at the mattress as it got wet with the blood that was drippingfrom her. She sobbed, covering her belly, as if she could protect her baby fromthe inevitable, she silently prayed it was just a scare and that everythingwould be fine in the end, but her heart was flipping so painfully that she knewhoping for the best was the only thing she could do to calm herself down.

AllowingRumple to tuck her into a black overcoat, he pulled her up into his arms,taking Belle to the car they had rented and driving her to the hospital, ascared Gideon watching everything quietly. She remembered being taken inside awhite room by doctors who didn’t speak her language, remembered about Rumpleusing magic to translated everything they said, before the tears started tofall from his own eyes and they left them alone in the room, so she could get sometime to prepare herself.

Herhusband held her hand tight, kissing her knuckles and brushing the hair awayfrom her face. She hadn’t understood a thing the doctors said, but somehow, sheknew exactly what was happening, she just didn’t want to accept.

“I’mso sorry, sweetheart,” Rumplestiltskin murmured to her ear. “Theycouldn’t find a heartbeat and they said you’re already miscarrying. The doctorwants to end this already and just clean you, make sure there is nothing left, soyou won’t get an infection.”

Herchin trembled and Belle sobbed, holding his hand firmly to her womb as hepressed his forehead to hers, their tears getting mixed on her face.

“Iwanted it,” she cried. “I was so ready to be a mother again.”

“Iknow, my love, I was too,” Rumple agreed. “But it doesn’t have to bethe end, we… We can try again.”

Sheshook her head. Belle was feeling horrible, laying there watching life fadefrom within her, the child she had been expecting to hold in her arms in acouple of months, simply gone with the blood wash. Before today, she hadn’ttruly known that something could feel so terrible.

“No,”she said, decided. “We’ve known pain enough, you lost Bae, we almost lostGideon, and now this poor baby is gone. My heart can’t take another loss,Rum.”

“You’reright,” he said in a voice that showed he was suffering too.

Ablondish doctor came back inside the room some moments later, saying a coupleof things to Rumple before she started to prepare herself. Belle looked awayfrom the tools she was selecting, not wanting to think about all of them goinginside her to take off the placenta that still made her belly look a bitswollen.

“Doyou want me to stay here with you?” Rumple asked as the doctor settledherself between her legs.

“Yes,please, don’t leave me.”

Henodded, gripping her hand more firmly in his. Belle closed her eyes, feelinghim pet her hair as it all come to an end. She was glad there wasn’t any pain,but once she felt herself completely empty, she started crying again. They wereled to another room, where she could get some rest, but as tired as she was,Belle couldn’t manage to sleep, because all of her plans for the future hadbeen interrupted in that day.

“Hushhush, sweetheart,” Rumplestiltskin murmured to her, trying miserably tomake her feel better, “it will be fine.”

“Thenwhy it hurts so much?”

Hedidn’t have an answer for that, because he could barely cope with his onlyfeelings right now, so the only thing he did was to kiss her tenses and hug heras she cried, until the door was opened to let Gideon in. Rumplestiltskin hadalmost forgot that he had left his boy waiting with some nurses and a couple ofchocolate bars, but someone must had told him where they were and by how preoccupiedhe seemed Rumple thought it was better if he just stayed inside there with themuntil Belle could go home.

“Hey,”Gideon whispered.

“Comehere, my boy, give your mama a hug.”

NoddingGideon rushed towards them, climbing up the hospital bed and cuddling againsthis mother, allowing her to pepper some kisses to his face, bathing him withher tears.

“Youknow what?” He asked his wife. “We are going back to the EnchantedForest as soon as you are recovered. I know how much you miss that place.”

“Wouldyou really take us there?”

“Ofcourse,” Rumplestiltskin tried to smile, but it was impossible. “Itwon’t fix anything, but it will give us a new perspective.”

“Anothernew beginning, huh?”

Bellethought it was supposed to be a good thing for them to start again, even morein such a beloved place, where they had met and everything begun, but she wouldgive anything to have her old plans to become true. But just for tonight, sadand disappointed as she was, Belle would dream with the Dark Castle: Rumplespinning, Gideon reading, her dressed in blue and a beautiful baby sleepingsoundly in her arms. Just tonight it would be real and then she would deal withher loss.

[your-brother-crutchie]

Three’s a Crowd

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

77. “Why are you covered in mud?”

10. “All I wanted was the truth.”

Spralbert angst.

Honestly, I’m not really sure if I like this, or if it’s what any of you wanted but here goes. It’s kind of a sequel to this, purely because of the mirroring of lines, but I might write a real sequel to it later and not mention Spralbert at all so I don’t know. Once again, I don’t normally write Spralbert and I don’t necessarily ship it, so this could be awful.

I’m very hesitant about writing poly ships. That’s not at all because I don’t agree with them, it’s just that my ex tried to ask if I’d mind if she had a girlfriend. She was, generally through the entire relationship, very emotionally manipulative and tried to pressure me into saying yes by shaming me for not wanting to do anything physical with her and saying I wasn’t enough for her if I wouldn’t, at least, kiss her. Bearing in mind I was fourteen, I think you can see why I’m wary.

His head resting in Jojo’s lap, Race stared at the sky as he sighed through the feeling of Jojo’s fingers carding delicately through his curls. When he tilted his head back slightly, he could see Albert practising his flips and tumbles underneath the tree for his next gymnastics competition.

They’d been running around all day in the park, acting like children as they chased each other through mud and trees but, finally, Race and Jojo were knackered. Dropping down, they’d decided to sit and relax, simply watching the crowds as they waited for Albert to get tired. After all, Race had told Spot that he’d be home at five and it was already six.

Race felt Jojo’s fingers tapping gently against his head, making him look up to see his friend smiling down at him, “How’re you and Spot doing?” He pressed his lips together, running his hand through Race’s curls one more time before helping him to sit up.

“Shit, Jojo, I don’t know what to do anymore.” Laughing as he ruffled his hair, Race pulled his head away from Jojo, giggling as he pushed nervously back at his friend. He pulled awkwardly at his fingers, knowing that he was about to have to gush about his feelings and preparing himself for that.

Chuckling, Jojo leaned back onto his elbows, as Race latched himself onto him and rested his face in the crook of his neck, “Why?” He wrapped an arm around Race’s waist, holding him in place to stop him from slipping.

Race and Jojo had always had a very tactile relationship, having been friends since they were very little, and this was completely normal. However, when Spot had first met Jojo, he’d thought they were together and it had pushed Race’s flirting efforts back a few months. Thankfully, Spot quickly got over that, and Race found his schedule back on track.

As Race drifted further into Jojo’s arms, he found himself sighing just thinking about Spot, “I’m just so in love with him and, this time, he’s in love with me. I can kiss him whenever I want and I’m not used to this.”

“Why are you covered in mud?”

As soon as Race got back to their dorm room, he found himself thanking that Spot didn’t care how late back he was. He turned to see his boyfriend, staring at him incredulously with one eyebrow raised and his arms folded, “I went out with Albert and Jojo and we hung out in the park.” Walking over to Spot, Race quickly rested his hands on his shoulders, smiling contentedly when he felt Spot’s arms wrapping around his waist. He leaned in to kiss him quickly, giggling at Spot’s pout when he pulled away too soon, “It was awesome, I managed to fit on one penny board with Albert and we pulled Jojo along! Until we fell off and got muddy.”

Pecking him quickly before pulling away and hopping over the back of the sofa to flick through channels on the tv, Race smiled when he looked up to see Spot coming to join him. He dropped down beside him, securing an arm tightly around Race and holding him against his body. It was strange. Spot wasn’t usually so physical, even when they were alone.

Eventually, Race figured out what was wrong as he felt the steam practically rising from Spot’s skin, “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” He pulled forwards, sitting and staring at Spot in disbelief. In their entire relationship, Spot had never seemed protective of him.

“No!” Spot folded his arms quickly, refusing to look at Race as he stared past him dedicatedly, focussing on the tv. His steely eyes didn’t even move from where they were fixed when Race tried to take his hand.

Stroking the back of his hand carefully, Race gulped, he didn’t know how to deal with Spot like this, and tried to catch his eye, “You don’t need to be. You know that, right? I love you.” He brought Spot’s hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently and smiling slightly when it made Spot look at him.

Spot was silent for a moment, until he pulled back on Race’s hand and brought him into his chest, “I just don’t want you to leave me for Albert. I really like you.” He sniffed slightly, pulling away immediately when he did and curling himself into a ball in front of Race on the sofa. It was almost scary for Race to watch his strong, emotionally stable boyfriend close to a breaking point.

“I’d never do that!” Quickly grasping at Spot’s biceps, Race almost forced him to look at him as he gently prised Spot’s body language open and sat himself on his thighs. He rested his face in the crook of Spot’s neck, hand over his heart as he moved Spot’s hand carefully to his own heart, “Feel that? That’s yours. Remember that.”

As he focussed on the beating of Race’s heart, Spot looked down at him carefully, “You might, though. Albert’s obviously in love with you and, sometimes, it feels like you’re in love with him, too.” He closed his eyes gently, resting his cheek against the curls on the top of Race’s head as Race tried to quickly think of a way to remind him how much he loved him.

Covering Spot’s hand with his own, Race brought it up to brush his lips against it one more time, as he shuffled in his lap until his entire torso was resting against Spot’s, “That’s ridiculous. I love you. Don’t even think that I’d leave you for anyone.”

Spot smiled gently at Race as he carefully wound his arms around his waist, “Good.”

It was another few months before Race, Jojo, and Albert hung out on their own again; that was mostly because Race had started to have feelings that he needed to squash as soon as possible. Except, when they hadn’t gone away, he’d just hoped that, if he saw him, he’d get over it.

However, as Albert flipped and tumbled beneath the tree and Race watched from where he sat with Jojo, he realised that just wasn’t going to happen. Clearing his throat, Race nudged Jojo slightly and tried to get his attention. He needed to talk through it.

Burying his face into Jojo’s neck, Race leaned against his friend, happy to accept the arm around his waist, “Shit, Jojo, I don’t know what to do.” His words were whispered and small as he looked up to see Jojo looking down at him, “I love Spot so much, it’s almost ridiculous.”

Jojo looked to Race with furrowed brows, not understanding what he was talking about, “What’s the problem, then?” Race hadn’t brought up his feelings about Spot for a while so it was only natural for Jojo to assume that they were fine; which they were, almost. There had been no arguments and Race’s feelings hadn’t died down. Spot loved him as much as he ever had and they were still having sex. Everything was fine.

“You’re going to think I’m a horrible person … ” Race squeezed his eyes together, trying to stop himself from crying as he was suddenly hit by how terrible it all was. How could he do this to the man he loved?

Scoffing, Jojo wrapped his arms even tighter around Race, stroking his hair as he realised that he was crying, “Pasta, you’re my best friend. You’ve been my best friend since we were four. I could never think that, okay? Whatever it is, I love you.” He placed his hand carefully on Race’s face, smoothing over his tears and calming him down.

Race nodded carefully, sniffling into Jojo’s neck as he took deep breaths and focussed on how to tell Jojo what he meant. He felt terrible for it but he just couldn’t help it, “… You know how Albert liked me?”

As Race looked up at him, he saw that Jojo was just laughing. He kept Race against his body with one hand whilst the other covered his mouth as careless giggles dripped out, “You mean how Albert likes you?” He smirked, squeezing Race against him as he laughed, obviously unable to believe that his friend hadn’t seen it.

Everyone knew that Albert used to like Race. That was common knowledge. He was terrible at hiding his feelings and he was always staring at Race. When it became obvious that Race had feelings for someone else, nothing changed. In fact, Albert’s efforts only doubled as he tried to catch Race’s attention before someone else swept him off his feet. It hadn’t worked, though, and Albert had only decided to lay off when Spot and Race made it official.

“He still likes me?” The shock Race felt was nothing compared to the excitement, but, more importantly, the guilt. He felt a fresh wave of tears coming as he turned his face back into Jojo’s shirt.

Shaking his head, Jojo struggled to hold down the chuckles as he shushed Race, running his hand through his curls once more to comfort him, “Well, of course he does! You’re just blind. Also, he’s been better at toning it down since you got with Spot; why do you think he doesn’t sit with us, anymore?” Jojo nodded his head toward where Albert was still busy tumbling, occasionally looking over at him, worriedly. He’d obviously seen Race’s tears.

Race sighed gently, pulling himself up slightly to fiddle with his fingers, “Right … Well … I think I might like him, too.” He reached his hands up nervously, covering his face as he pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes and trying to hide from Jojo’s confused gaze. He couldn’t handle it.

He hid his face from view as Jojo tried to make him look at him, his eyes turned away from the probing stare, “What?” Jojo set Race upright, gently prising his hands away from his face to see his tear-stained cheeks.

“I think I like Albert but I know that I still love Spot.” Rubbing harshly at his eyes, Race tried to stop the tears with no avail, just praying that he didn’t look like too much of a mess. Of course, based on Race’s usual track record with crying, he probably wasn’t very pretty to look at. Race was an ugly crier, there was certainly no doubt about that. He held nothing back.

Nodding as he listened, Jojo gripped onto Race’s fingers to give him something to pull on and hurt that wasn’t himself, “Do you mean, like, polyamory?” Jojo watched Race’s face, a fond smile crossing his eyes when his friend stared at him, confused, “Okay, so, it’s basically where you’re interested in relationships with multiple people at once. For example, so long as Spot and Albert agreed to it, they could both be your boyfriend? I think, it also works if Spot and Albert are together, so you’re all in one relationship.”

Race thought about it as Jojo said it, looking over to Albert and wondering how he’d feel about a polyamorous relationship, “I think so.” He found himself beginning to like the idea, quickly stopping his brain from thinking before it became hooked and Spot said no.

Head resting on Spot’s shoulder, Race was barely paying attention to, ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ Instead, he was trying to think of a way to bring up the idea of bringing Albert into their relationship without making it seem like Spot wasn’t good enough for him.

“Race? Can I talk to you?” Looking up at Spot when he nudged him slightly, Race sighed into Spot’s neck, smiling as he smelled his cologne, and nuzzled his nose gently against skin skin. As much as he knew that he needed to talk to Spot, he wanted to spend as long as possible just breathing him in before risking losing him. He nodded as he pulled himself upwards, pausing the film and groaning softly about having to leave his comfy pillow but stopping when he saw Spot’s serious expression, “Do you know what polyamorous means?”

Pulling at his fingers, Race made sure that his movements were slow and calm, worried  that Spot knew about what he’d told Jojo, “Yes.” He just hoped that he hadn’t been so blatant about his feelings as he had when he’d liked Spot. Race hadn’t exactly been secretive and he couldn’t imagine how Spot would feel if it became obvious that Race liked someone else, as well.

Spot sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, taking Race’s hand in his own to stop him from hurting himself, “Okay, so- ugh. I think I’m- I don’t want you to think this is because you’re not enough. I love you so much, I just-“

“Holy shit, Scotty!” Letting out a bark of laughter, Race pulled Spot’s hand to his face to press his lips against his skin as he struggled to hide his happy smile. Race had never even factored in the idea that Spot might want this, too, “I was just about to say the same thing!”

A few months later and Race was incredibly happy. He had Spot and he had Albert and everything was wonderful. Initially, when Race and Spot had approached him, Albert had been a little wary but had thrown himself into the poly relationship wholeheartedly.

Race and Spot were hanging out in their dorm one night, cuddling in front of the tv like they used to do when it was just the two of them. Albert was out with Jojo and Finch, telling them not to wait up for him. He’d invited Race to join them but he wanted to hang out with Spot, “Race, do you like Albert more than me?” The question came out of nowhere, leaving Spot’s lips before Race could even turn around to see him. He quickly reached forwards to mute the tv, turning so that he was kneeling in front of Spot and trying to read his face. It could have been a joke but Race didn’t think that kind of thing was funny.

Scanning his eyes over Spot’s face quickly, Race found his heart breaking when he saw that he really did feel that way, immediately feeling awful for letting that happen. He was supposed to make sure that Spot was happy and he’d failed, “What? No! Scotty-“

“All I wanted was the truth, Race.” Pushing him away, Spot stood quickly and started towards their bedroom. He growled when he turned to see Race following him, trying to stand up to what little height he had and be intimidating.

Race shook his head quickly. He couldn’t have Spot thinking that he didn’t like him anymore. He did. He loved him. He didn’t have a favourite boyfriend, he was just grateful to have two amazing people who loved him back, “That is the truth! I love you both-“

“You don’t, though! You’re the one who wanted to bring Albert into this. We were fine, we were working.” As Spot turned away from him, Race noticed that there was a backpack lying in the corner of the room. He watched in horror as Spot rummaged around the room, collecting things, and stuffing them into his bag. He couldn’t leave, it was his dorm room, too.

Following him around the room, Race carefully closed drawers left open and picked things up as they fell out, “What are you doing? Are you leaving me? You said you wanted a poly relationship!”

Spot scoffed, taking the pair of socks that he was holding and hurling them at Race, who dodged out of the way just in time, “With two people who love me! You’re not who I’m worried about, anyway; it’s quite clear that Albert isn’t at all interested in me. He’s only here for you, he’s only ever been interested in you, and the two of you always ignore me!” He made eye contact with Race, obviously realising what he’d just done and immediately regretting it as he sank onto the bed with his head in his hands. They may only have been socks but they were just what he was holding. He’d have thrown anything in that second and Race knew how Spot felt about hurting him.

His voice becoming soft, Race sat next to Spot quietly, “I thought I could do this. I thought I could deal with it. Clearly, I was wrong. I love you, okay? I don’t want you to ever feel second best. I love Albert, too, though, and I don’t quite know what you want me to do about it if he prefers me. Do you want to go back to just the two of us?” He rested his hand gently on Spot’s thigh, leaning his head against his shoulder and breathing deeply.

Turning to look at Race, Spot seemed to radiate warmth as he smiled almost sadly, “But you love him?” He pressed a kiss to the top of Race’s head, making the frailer boy smile and let his eyes fall closed.

“But I can’t lose you.”

[rather-impertinent]

Daily Life

A/N: AAAHHHH HAPPY 18th BIRTHDAY @carolightpenvenys! Hope you have the best day ever, Anna! I present to you, The Queen of Poldark AU’s, my shitty attempt at a Poldark AU. I don’t know whether to continue this or not but if any of you like this and want me to, please let me know! Enjoy! xo

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

Dwight Enys was not unaccustomed to 5 am wake-up calls, and truthfully much preferred this new alarm to the annoying iPhone jingle it had been for the past 4 years. His wife stirred in bed beside him and, without opening her eyes, gently shoved his body towards the edge of the large mattress. “Your turn.”

He squirmed as his feet hit the cold, wooden floor. Ugh. He told Caroline they should have gotten a carpet. He approached the cot in the corner of the room and peered over the sides.

"Aw, what's all this?" he cooed at his wailing daughter, carefully lifting her up and placing her small blonde head against his shoulder. As a doctor, Dwight often came across studies that suggested baby talk could hinder the development and coherence of a child's speech, but it was now obvious to Dwight that the people who conducted such studies had never had children. It was simply impossible to speak to babies properly. "Shhh, it's alright," he soothed, stroking her blonde curls as she continued to cry relentlessly. "But do you know what won't be alright?" He whispered, tiptoeing towards the bedroom door. "If we wake mummy. Because she will kill me. And then you'll have no daddy, and that would be sad because daddy's the best, isn't he?"

The bouncy walk down the stairs had calmed her down but, to Dwight's horror, she now appeared to be wide awake. He groaned quietly as he flicked the kettle switch down. He stared longingly at the new expensive coffee machine on the counter, imagining himself drinking a litre of it's delicious, decadent liquid. But he could not for the life of him figure out how to work the stupid thing. Caroline had shown him countless times but he was as clueless as ever. What kind of man could perform open heart surgery but not work an electronic coffee machine?

While he waited for the kettle to boil, he messaged the group chat: Dwight 05:06 Sent a photo. Someone is determined that I die of exhaustion! X

He poured his instant coffee and made his way to the living room. Within minutes of sitting down his phone pinged.

Demelza 05:13 Sent a photo. Same!! Clowance is still teething, the poor lamb hasn't stopped crying for the past hour. She's breaking my heart! :( x

Dwight 05:14 Awww. Do you have any cloves in your infinite spice rack? They're very good for teething problems x

Demelza 05:17 Oh really? I do! I'll try that, bonjela isn't helping at all!! Why does it even exist?! Thank you Dr. Enys, what would we do without you? X

Dwight 05:19 It's too early for your sarcasm, Demelza! It is not appreciated!

Demelza 05:20 I wasn't being sarcastic you knob! X

Ross 05:20 Jesus Christ can you two shut the fuck up I'm trying to sleep!!

Dwight 05:20 Hahahahahahahahaha

Demelza 05:21 YOU shut the fuck up Ross! Your daughter is in agony and all you care about is yourself! Usual!! How was the after-party my love? X

Dwight 05:23 Oh shit yeah, how was the seminar?

Ross 05:24 Both were good. My head is not so good though. Fuck. I think I might still be drunk. Any chance you could teleport one of your bacon rolls to Bristol for me Demelza? X

Demelza 05:24 What time were you planning on coming home? I'll make you a full breakfast x

Ross 05:25 This is why I love you. Well now that I'm awake I might as well get the next train. Will probably be in before 10 x

Demelza 05:26 Ok love xx

Dwight 05:29 I can't believe I'm working in 3 and a half hours. I can't believe my daughter doesn't give a shit that I'm working in 3 and a half hours, she is refusing to go back to sleep and is literally laughing at me. X

Ross 05:30 Hahaha she's not the only one! You've got a good 6 months left of sleepless night yet mate! X

Caroline descended the staircase just after 8am wearing her favourite fluffy pug pyjamas that Dwight had bought her for Christmas. She was surprised, and somewhat affronted, that he and Sarah were not in the kitchen cooking breakfast for her, as they were accustomed to doing every Friday.

"Dwight?" she called but heard no reply. She checked the living room and the sight that met her eyes melted her heart: Dwight and Sarah were both fast asleep on the large cream sofa, Dwight's hand created a shield over his daughter as she starfished on his chest.

Caroline 08:09 Sent a photo. I'm dying. My loves ❤️

Demelza 08:10 Omg that is the cutest thing I've EVER seen!! Are you and Sarah still coming over for lunch? X

Caroline 08:12 Yeah if you want. I saw that Clowance isn't well though, we could come over tomorrow night instead? Maybe have some drinks? Dwight is off, he isn't even on call! Woohoo! X

Demelza 08:13 Aw no pleeeaseeeee come over today! She'll be fine! Plus me and Jeremy miss you! (And your pasta salad!) X

Caroline 08:14 Dem you're such an arsehole, do you actually want me to make it? We miss you too x

Demelza 08:15 Yes pretty please! I'll make scones! But you should both still come over for drinks tomorrow btw! X

Caroline 08:16 Yay ok deal! I better wake my husband up before he's late for work and the NHS collapses haha! X

Ross 08:17 It's not far off it anyway! Fucking Tories.

Laughing quietly as she locked her phone, she went over to Dwight and gently stroked his messy hair. His eyes flashed open. "Caroline," he blinked. "Shit! What time is it?" he whispered, sitting up and firmly holding Sarah in place.

"Just after quarter past. You still have time for a shower. I ironed your shirt last night, it's hanging over the banister," she said.

He rose from the couch carefully and handed the sleeping 4-month-old to his wife. "Thank you," he said, leaning in to kiss her. She began to giggle as he refused the break the kiss.

She pushed him away, laughing. "You're going to be late! Go for a shower! You smell anyways," she teased.

"You love it," he sang as he leaped up the stairs two at a time.  

She sighed at him. She really did. She really did love him.

[starlightchild6]

Spiral (Part 10 of ??)

This s the second of the three emotional parts, dealing with very sensitive subjects. Please, if you’re not in a good place right now, don’t read this until you are. If you’re struggling and need someone to talk to, please text the Crisis Help Line at 741-741.

Missed a part? You can catch up here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

I don’t tell my friends what happened. How could I? They’re all so happy, trying on dresses and babbling about hairstyles and dates. Instead, I curl up in a chair and take photos of everyone sashaying around, capturing the memories.

“That’s it, work it girl!” I grin as Katie twirls her way towards me in a gorgeous green halter dress. “The camera loves you, dahling!”

Yes, I hid everything behind a mask. Sue me. I’m not interrupting their fun just because I had to face Darren again. I’ll deal with it later.

One by one, everyone finds their dresses. Katie picks out a light green mermaid dress, to which we all tease her about imitating Ariel. Jess snags a glittery sheath dress that only she could pull off, I swear. Even Emma finds one she likes, a simple sleeveless gown with a flared skirt in pale pink. They pay and we all troop back to the car for the ride home.

I keep an eye out for the police cruiser as we cross the parking lot. No sign of him. Emma nudges me as we walk. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I paste a smile on my face. She eyes me for a few heartbeats before apparently deciding to drop it. Phew. She’s always been able to read me better than almost anyone. Between her and Jeremy, I’m practically an open book.

Jess drops me off back at the house. I wave goodbye as Katie hollers out the window for me to not forget about some random meeting I already can’t remember. Once they’re out of sight, I head inside.

“Well, you don’t look any worse for wear.” Jeremy greets me, pretending to inspect me for damage as I walk through the door.

“Oh hush.” I mutter. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“If you say so. Dinner’s ready, I made pasta. And afterwards, how about I kick your ass at Super Smash Brothers again?” He grins cheekily.

I shake my head. “I’m really tired and not very hungry. I think I’m just going to go to bed early, okay?”

“Oh, okay then.” He comes over to me, looking concerned. “You okay, Starlight?”

I nod, unwilling to burden him more. “Yeah, it’s just been a long day, s’all.”

“If you’re sure.” He squeezes my shoulder gently before pulling me into a bear hug. “You know I’m always here if you need to talk, babe.” He murmurs softly.

I nod against his chest, taking comfort in the feel of his arms wrapped around me for as long as I can before pulling away. “I know. Night, Jer.” I give him a half smile before climbing the stairs to my room.

Days fly by but I can’t bring myself to care. I stop eating, only choking down a few bites at dinner each night to reassure Jeremy. I shut down at school, not participating in discussions any longer. Drew keeps trying to catch me after class, but I manage to hide in the ladies’ room to avoid him as much as possible. Katie and Emma send text after text, but I never respond.

I know they’re all worried about me. And it makes me feel even more like a burden. I feel like I’m drowning with no way to safety, and if I tell them, I’ll just pull them down with me. I can’t do that to them. So I hide everything as best as I can and pretend everything is fine.

I’m careful to not let anyone see me in shorts any longer, no matter how warm the weather. They’d freak if they saw the red lines had returned, scattered across my thighs. I can’t let that happen. I stop wearing tanks too as the lines spread over my upper arms and abdomen.

Saturday morning rolls around and I can’t even bring myself to get out of bed any longer. I stay huddled up in my blankets and listen to the birds chirp outside. Their cheer is a stark contrast to the darkness lurking inside of me.

There’s a knock on the door and Jeremy peeps in. “Hey, babe. Breakfast is ready. Come try to eat something, please?” I know he’s concerned about me, but I can’t bring myself to get out of bed. I hear him sigh and come to perch on the edge of the mattress.

“Has it gotten any better at all?” I shake my head. “Maybe it’s time we talked to someone about this. I hate seeing you so down. It worries me. You’re not eating again, you hide up here all the time. Drew says you’re not participating in English like you used to.” He gazes at me, his eyes revealing all the fear he’s keeping bottled up inside.

“M’just not hungry, Jer.” I mumble, picking at my nails. How do you explain to someone that the idea of food makes you want to throw up? That the idea of moving exhausts you before you even shift positions? That the idea of existing makes you wish you were never here at all?

He understands what I can’t say and simply sits beside me, stroking my hair gently. “I won’t make you eat breakfast, if you promise you’ll do your best to come down for lunch? Just for a bite?”

“I’ll try.” I manage to whisper, leaning into his touch.

“That’s my girl. Listen, I need to go mow the yard before it takes over everything. If you need me at all, I don’t care what for, come get me, text me, anything. I’ll be right there. Promise.” He leans in, resting his forehead against mine. “You’re not alone, Starlight. I’m right here with you, every step of the way.” He shifts, and I feel his lips press against my forehead for a split second before he’s standing and walking out of the room.

I have no idea how much time passes between him leaving and me dragging myself out of bed. Eventually I find myself standing in front of the mirror near the closet, staring at my reflection absently. I don’t recognize the girl I see any more. Everything that made me who I am has been drained away by this dark taint, leaving only a shell behind in its place.

I turn away, only to be faced with a collage of photos. Smiling faces beam down at me; Jeremy, Emma,, Drew, Katie… all of us. I feel like an imposter just looking at them. Would their lives be different if I wasn’t here? Would they be better? Happier?

Movement out the window catches my eye; it’s Jeremy. He leans against the riding mower and checks his phone before starting back on the yard. He’s done so much to take care of me recently. He’s given me somewhere to stay, helped me escape my mom’s house, and how do I repay him? By wallowing around and making things worse. I feel horrible. I’m dragging him down with me. If I wasn’t here, he wouldn’t be so sad. I know he’s turned down good jobs to stay here and keep an eye on me. This isn’t fair to him. It’s a burden he doesn’t deserve to have to deal with.

I’m a burden no one should have to deal with.

I feel like I should cry, but the tears won’t come. I’m numb inside. So numb.

I can’t do this anymore.

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me.