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sillyvampireboi · 2 months

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A new letter, in my electronic mailbox!

AO3

Summary: Armand starts receiving loads of love letters to his electronic mailbox, as he calls it, after the success of Daniel’s book, bombarding his useful iPad with notifications. Why do strangers “love him” so much? Writing such intimate letters to him? While Daniel never writes anything. He must find out.

contents: pov Armand, first person, Armand x Daniel, fluff, slight angst, slight emotional hurt, comfort, romantic, armand needs some love and reassurance!, he is sad meow meow

a/n: I just want some happiness for Armand ok? Also this whole fic was born from musings with @okaytosave <3 I hope you’ll like it :D | 👁️^👁️ <- this is Armand as emojis. No one can change my mind

let me know if you would like to be tagged :)

-English still isn’t my first language-

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New era, new technology. New pace of life, new social norms.

I saw the slow death of my mortal life’s world dying, inventions, religions and ideas popping out of thin air, countless wars and and even more deaths. The rotting of old academies which were the only acceptable faiths a few years prior, abandoned places and cities that were used for more polished ones’ base, art styles changing, fashion and garments changing, dialects changing, languages changing. Changing, changing, changing.

Ever since I opened my eyes under the eternal night, I knew that change will be constant while I remain the same. This rotation happened rhythmically, slowly, inevitably, leaving enough time for its creatures to adapt. However as we waltzed into the 20th century, this sleepy melody began to alter. The music sheet decided to rewrite itself, to twitch here and there like a beetle on his back, but still following the original melody with these slight changes.

Then came the 21th century, with his new suit and confident lettering. He glanced once onto his fathers’ theme and murdered it with a steady move of his pen. The tune turned from the unhurried pace and formed into a metallic scream.

Changing, changing, changing.

This one word has never been more true to any other century than this present one.

My interest first started to grow with a funny device called the telephone. I could speak to someone in France while I was in any other part of the world with it! As years danced by me, I witnessed that same machine evolve. First it shrank. Got smaller and smaller, until at last I could put it in my pocket.

Then came the ‘Internet’. It changed even more things in this racing century and—

“Are you still looking at those emails? Really?” - I heard Daniel’s low vibrato next to me. We were laying on our shared bed in our new apartment. Long, thick curtains framed the windows, now placed on either side of the pale blue painting that was the sky. The blinking stars were invisible in this new hour, covered by the polluting light of the streets.

Oh my sweet, seeing through me Daniel. He knew what worries or excites me without being able to read my mind. He simply sees me for what I am.

“Ever since you published your book, mortals keep sending me letters. People I don’t know nor have ever met. I don’t understand how they know my address.” - a loud snort was the only answer that Daniel honormed me with. He was covered with our heavy blanket that he liked, reminding him the warmth and comfort it brought him when he was still a human. As the owner of all the pillows, even mine, he was half laying - half sitting while he was scrolling through the application called twitter, now renamed as X. Not a smart decision in my opinion. It’s always been more flourishing for a company to have some kind of unique or catchy name.

“Daniel, beloved, please listen to me. — for a moment he glanced at me, the half amused expression in his eyes with his half mocked eyebrow that jumped up on his forehead — Yes, I’m still looking at these ‘emails’. I’ve been browsing through these letters and many of these individuals have been referred to me as ‘little meow meow’ and ‘dear’ or ‘demon kitten’. Please love, what does it mean? Of course, I know what kitten and meow means, however I still fail to understand how these apply to me. But Daniel, what do they mean by ‘demon’? Is this a reference to my vampire nature? If so, I would ask you to tell your followers it’s not true! Love - why are you laughing?

Daniel’s laugh filled my ears, borrowing a giggling sensation into my body. I loved his laugh. His sarcastic wheezings were frequent and without a stop, falling like rain upon a curly head. His good hearted laughs like this however! They felt like a special occasion of my heart whether I made him laugh or not. Although I felt my dead heart skip joyously when I caused his self forgetting roar.

“ It’s because of your face.”

“ My face? I don’t look like a cat! I’m far from it.”

“ They think you look very pretty and adorable. Like a little kitten, who can’t do anything wrong.”

“ ….Are they the only ones who think I look pretty and adorable?”

“ Flirting with me huh? Are you looking for compliments, now that I’m your fledgling? You know well how I feel, I don’t need to spell it out.”

But I don’t! Please say it! I need to know! Please please please! I can never be so sure in my or your feelings. I can lull myself into the lie of love as I did with Louis, but I'm so tired. Fatigued by the endless knot of loneliness around my neck, please spell it out for me!

I wanted to say, but I didn’t. Just stared at him silently with my usual expression of calmness as his face was illuminated by the light of his phone. I know my face was the perfect practiced mask, but I assume my eyes showed a glimpse into my turmoil because Daniel’s features changed.

He put down his phone, somewhere amongst the folds of our bedsheets, and oh so gently he held the left side of my cheek in his palm. I leaned into his touch immediately, melted like snow under the mellow heat of the sun. He pulled me towards him and hinted a kiss on my other cheek.

I slanted towards him, wanting more, not simply the only child kisses here and there, but the whole family and its storm. I wanted to be devoured by his all so consuming love, finally melting out of the ice I've buried myself in.

“ I love you.” — heard my love’s voice close to me. He placed another kiss on my eyelids, the most intimate part of the body. How frequently do you see someone’s closed eyelids? When they are in deep sleep, flying among their safe dreams? — “ And no. They are not the only ones who think you are pretty and adorable, just so you know, you dickhead.”

Ah my dear Daniel with his sinful tongue! I relearned with him how it feels to laugh and smile.

I giggled into his traveling lips, suddenly shy to deepen the kiss. — “ Apart from ‘not the only ones’ , who else thinks that I am those things? I haven’t seen electronic letters from my starred address.

“Oh, so this is what annoyed you, is it? I’m not rescuing the princess with my typed out words. Will he let down his hair too, if I go to the lengths to send a raven to him ?”

“Hm! So why this stranger, who sent 5 separate letters to my electric mailbox, all of them detailing an adoration towards myself, could express more appreciation to me then you?

“ You think I don’t appreciate you? I rather spend my night with more useful things than typing out words I can tell you. We live together, remember? “

“ You are on your phone all day beloved, harassing that American ex-president with the yellow wig—“

“ Come on, that’s besides the point. I don’t need to send detailed emails since I share a bed with you, Armand. I can tell you how I feel, just like I did now. .. Is that really so important to you? “

I huffed and silently stood up with my iPad. He doesn’t understand. It seems so insignificant to him, such an unimportant act. Of course, he is capable of speaking and expressing his care to me in his own ways, which I really appreciate that we can talk through, but ….

“ Hey, where are you going?” — Daniel’s voice followed me faintly as I floated out of the window, towards my destination.

~~*~~

I was standing in front of an apartment complex, with many tiny apartments inside. As I was blinking under the streetlamp, I saw many of them wrapped in shadows at that late hour, but the one I needed still bathed in a faint yellow light.

How the streets and buildings changed within this century! Seemingly, in a blink of an eye. All life, all beauty and art disappeared from the newly built systems, and lazily leaked into the sewers. Oh how far we got from the Medicis!

With my iPad still in my hand, I effortlessly opened the front door and floated upwards without a sound, in the center of the zigzagging stairs.

On the floor, I knocked on the plain white door, which wore the same lifeless appearance as its partners.

“Who could it be that late?” I heard your soaring thoughts, grumpily addressed to me. It felt like years until you opened your door, so leisure were your movements. Upon seeing me, many different emotions washed over your fragile form, from the first surprise to the blushing anticipation. It seemed like you lost your voice, so great was your astonishment.

“We’ve never met. I don’t know you, why did you send this? Explain it to me.” — I opened up the Pandora box of my questions, showing your own letters to you on my iPad.

You just stared, mouth slightly agape, looking between your own words on my screen and my face. As I waited for your answer, my gaze traveled behind you, into your cozily stuffed home. Right in front of me on the wall hung a huge mirror, reflecting me in the weak light from the hallway. My eyes were huge as usual, staring into space while the rest of my face was emotionless.

I waited and waited and waited, yet you still haven’t talked, merely your skin got redder, your veins pumping your sweet blood into your head with a thundering noise.

“Pay him no mind.” — all of the sudden I heard Daniel’s deep voice behind me. Looking up into the mirror I saw him lazily leaning to the wall, crossing his legs and arms in a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ fashion as he liked to call it. He was wearing his black, leather jacket and little round sunglasses, which I fancied seeing him in. — “‘He understands parasocial adoration from the old word, he is just your boomer’s boomer.’”

I felt blood traveling to my cheeks, heating up my cold skin. I saw myself blushing under Daniel’s amused gaze. He lifted his eyebrows in a ‘what now pretty boy?’ way. My blushing was followed by a surprised oh, then I remembered that I was still angry at him, so I knotted my eyebrows to show clearly my frustration.

“Daniel I have the right to inquire about such letters regarding my self. Parasocial isn't the word that I would - Excuse me for a moment” — here I turned away from you, looking Daniel in the eye — “ I still await an answer from them. And Daniel this is the last time I tolerate your stalking while I pursue- “

“Look who's talking about stalking, Miss Stalker. Also, you left without a word. I thought we had a moment of trauma bonding.”

“Daniel, I need to know..” — I trailed off, seeing a sudden notification on my lock screen.

A new letter, in my electronic mailbox! Its title said: ‘Here is your first love letter, fake Rashid’.

I felt my muscles loosen and tighten on my face in a warm, familiar way. I felt my lips dancing, my blood chuckling and the air from my lungs tittering outward.

“You sent it to me?”

“Yes I did. And just so you know, there is more where it came from. I didn’t know it was so important to you, Armand. You’ll get my ‘love letters’ princess.

You, who were of the utmost importance to me a few minutes ago, were locked out of my mind. The only being I saw was Daniel. Daniel smiling at me. Daniel mocking me in a sarcastic adoring way. Daniel waiting for me and holding my hand.

Daniel, Daniel Daniel, Daniel.

He pulled me, waltzing away with me into the cool night, back to our home. Our home. What a nectary taste it has on my tongue.

I felt myself flying while still stepping on the dark earth, laughing unselfishly under the invisible stars, still holding Daniel’s hand, feeling the ice melting inside my heart.

~~*~~

The sun woke behind the blotchy buildings of the era, smiling away the cold shadows. Daniel already slept sweetly in our room, awaiting the next sunfall.

Only a day passed since his first letter, however my electronic, organized folders were filled with his chaotic letters.

‘Here is your 27th love letter, fake Rashid’, I read that morning.

I’m pretty sure he meant to annoy me with the number of ‘emails’ he queued to be sent. Instead of annoyance, they became a sacred prayer I waited every day. I’ll need to buy more space to store them securely. Or I could print them out, hang them on the wall. It would irritate Daniel so much!

After reading his 27th letter, I ambled into our bedroom. He was deep in his vampiric sleep, laying on his back, still as a corpse.

I climbed next to him, throwing my arms around his neck and stealing kisses all over his cold face and lips.

“I love you Daniel.” — I whispered into his ear as I snuggled into the crook of his neck. “Thank you for your letters.”

#iwtv #iwtv fanfiction #interveiw with the vampire #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire fic #iwtv fic #armandaniel #the vampire armand #iwtv daniel #daniel molloy #armanddaniel #armand x daniel #daniel x armand #armandiel #my writings

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sapphia · 2 months

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Can I get more info about what's going on in nz? I watch global news regularly and nothing about this has come up and I find this highly disturbing.

we elected a neoliberal nightmare of a government who are destroying our health system, water system, ferry and rail system, environment and democracy for profit. people are literally dying in hospitals because there is no doctor in hospitals in multiple rural towns and they just have a consultation on an ipad. the government are trying to frame Health NZ as having a budget deficit of 1.5 billion when in reality that deficit exists because they provided like 3 billion dollars with of tax cuts they couldn’t afford. National cuts spending to health every time they get in government and the disjointed DHB system has been unable to keep up financially with the growing population and health needs.

i personally have just been FUCKED by national as for the last two years i have been navigating our labyrinth of a health system, not working due to being intensely suicidal, trying to find therapy to get better and there just isn’t any available. so i payed for a private autism diagnosis to try and access funding for therapy through the ministry of disability and also get under their umbrella because they actually treat you like a person there and also don’t actively seem to want you dead like they do in the mental health system. but the process took so long that by the time i got my diagnosis and through the referral system, national had yoinked the funding and deemed that therapy will no longer be covered by the disability funding system. all therapies. for disabled people.

oh also they’re like trying to start a race war or something as both minor parties in the 3-way coalition government are trying to negate the Treaty of Waitangi in law, and they’re also attacking the judiciary and had to be told to stop by our attorney general, who they ignored obviously.

our prime minister answers every question with “i say to you” followed by just a literal lie, they’re all just lying through their teeth, i literally have an OIA request about when David Seymour, our deputy-PM-in-waiting (don’t ask) said that preschool education needed to be reviewed because they were being prevented from teaching phonics. they’re not. someone just expressed concern that that might be happening to him, and apparently he is basing government policy on that?? or at least using it to falsely justify it to the nation.

their ideas are all bad and disproven by evidence-based studies, despite their slogan being “we’re going to make evidence-based decisions”. New Zealand has hit a funding wall where we’ve kicked the can too far down the road on like everything and it’s all starting to collapse at once and this government are not only letting it happen, they’re actively helping it along because they’ve all got shares in private rival companies or mates they want to give contracts to (our former national PM got paid insane money to write an insanely biased report attacking our ministry of social housing) or they’ve had their careers helped along by lobbying firms or they want to work for lobbying firms after they leave parliament.

the speaker of the house (who is right now being accused of not dealing with racism within his own party because of course he isn’t, he’s gerry fucking brownlee, the most hated man in christchurch) has allowed lobbyists unprecedented unrecorded entry to parliament. the minister for conservation keeps “forgetting” to write his lobby dinners in his diary. one of them told an mp “he’s not in mexico anymore”. no one is getting in trouble for this shit while the left are being raked over the coals. there’s like so much more. no one can keep up. and nothings being done about it.

tldr; help

#new zealand #nzpol #New Zealand politics #nz #nz politics #national suck #national party #news #politics #asks #update

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jessicaloons · 1 year

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Chapter 14:

And it’s coming over you like it’s all a big mistake…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

"That is narrow…" I said as I stopped my bike and looked around.

"Yeah, it’s really tight at some corners, but you’ll be fine!" Charles said and smiled at me encouragingly.

"But the track looks fun…" I began to cycle again, Charles next to me.

"It is! You’ll see! Now come one, the loser will pay for dinner!" he said and took off.

"That was unfair!" I yelled and he just laughed.

"The race leader decides the re-start… so hurry up!" he yelled back and I tried my best to catch up to him.

"That was pretty close, ma belle!" Charles laughed as I stopped next to him, almost out of breath "But I won anyways."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!" I mumbled and we left the track, both joining our hospitalities.

I gulped down some water and sat down next to Dad who looked up from his iPad, a little frown visible.

"What’s up?" I asked and he pursed his lips before he handed me the iPad. It was a Twitter feed. People were still discussing why Checo wasn’t able to fight me off.

"I don’t like what they’re implying… how they call you names…" Dad said and I looked at him, he was really tense "You didn’t go through hell and back again for a bunch of idiots to treat you like that!"

"I mean, we knew that this could happen, we saw the backlash throughout the last months since Audi announced me as their driver…" I began but he shook his head.

"Yeah, but by now? They saw how you raced last weekend! They saw how good you are! Podium in your first race!" he was getting mad.

"I know Pops, but we can’t change that… unfortunately. I’ll ignore it and you should too. That’s the only thing we can do." I sighed.

"But it shouldn’t be the only thing we can do… we should do more to protect you! And not just you! Everyone who is the target of these internet elf’s!" Dad said and I started laughing "That’s not funny! I’m serious!"

"And I totally believe you, but they’re called internet trolls… not elf’s…" I laughed and he grinned at me, before gently smacking my arm.

"Stop laughing at me!" he chuckled and snapped his iPad out of my hands, as he did the mail app opened up and I saw a mail from Michael Schüler.

"Why did Michael send you an email?" I asked and Dad looked confused for a second before he swallowed hard "Dad? Why is he writing to you?"

"He umm-… he wanted to check in on you…" he said meekly and looked apologetic "I didn’t answer him or anything!"

"What does he want?" Dad just sighed and shook his head "Michael isn’t the type of guy to just check in on someone!"

"He asked who’s your manager…" he whispered almost.

"Of course… now that I made it to F1 he would love to take me back, right? Unbelievable! After he kicked me out? 3 months after I was almost dying? Because he couldn’t afford to manage someone who wasn’t driving?!" I was furious and Dad took my hand.

"Lizzie, I’m not replying! I don’t care what he thinks he could offer you… he’s out! And with Rita I think we’re good! She takes care of everything that has to be taken care of but stays in the back."

"Yeah, she’s great! And I don’t want anyone else ever again!" I said, thinking of Rita who managed me since the beginning of the season, taking care of everything but staying as far away from everything public as possible "She just looks out for me and not for her own benefits. She’s great!"

"She really is! And we keep it that way, no slimy manager from the past will destroy that!" Dad smiled at me and I nodded "And now go to Julie, she was looking for you!"

"Aye, aye Captain!" I said and mockingly saluted at him, before I left, looking for Julie.

P11. After a penalty and a 3 place grid drop. I shook my head as I walked out of the hearing with the FIA next to Felix and Pete.

"That’s ridiculous and they know it…" Felix said and Pete nodded.

"The data showed clearly that he didn’t slow down like he said he had to, that you were out of his way fast enough… a bunch of idiots!" Pete agreed and I was glad we were speaking German, I didn’t want anyone from the FIA or Ferrari to hear us talking shit about them.

"He’s such a cry baby! He impedes his fellow drivers all the time… and you weren’t even impeding him!" Felix said and I laughed.

"We can’t change it now, I have to make up for it in the race tomorrow! Valtteri is in a good position to get us some nice points, maybe I can snatch 1 or 2 as well!" I said and we kept on walking. In front of us I saw how Carlos, Mattia and Laurent were laughing and having a good time, on my behalf. Nice.

I sat in the car. Unbuckling my seatbelts. That wasn’t the result I was hoping for. Yeah sure, another podium wasn’t on my mind. I knew that last weekend I had some luck with Checo who couldn’t catch up to me after I was overtaking him because of his engine, then the late safety car and my set of new softs, which Lewis didn’t have. But still. P9? It could’ve been a P7 at least, but I made a mistake and my tires locked up. I could only make up 2 positions in the end. And that’s nothing. I slowly got out of my car and saw how Charles was walking away from his team and looking around, because I walked behind Nico and Alex, Charles couldn’t see me and took off his helmet, grabbed the towel to dry his face up. I slowly made my way towards him, following the 2 guys in front of me. After they congratulated him he pulled me into him.

"Well done, Charlie." I said and he shook his head a little.

"I had no chance in the end." he sighed.

"It’s still a P2! And you didn’t make any mistakes… unlike someone else…" I said and he cocked an eyebrow "Doesn’t matter. Go celebrate! I’ll see you later…"

"Lizzie wait!" he said but I shook my head and walked up to Max and Carlos, congratulating them, before I left. After my weighing I walked into my garage, where the team welcomed me warmly. Felix pulled me into his arms.

"I know it’s not the result you wanted. But it’s still in the points, Lizzie! You’re doing amazing! Be proud of yourself!" he said and I only nodded, helmet still on.

I walked into the back, clapping shoulders left and right. Saying we would come back stronger in Australia. I reached my space and sat down. Taking my helmet off.

"You look like you DNFd although you’re in the points!" Dad said as he crouched down in front of me "You did a good job."

"I did a shit job! Dad, my mistake cost me 2 positions! 2! That was just so stupid! I could’ve been in P7…" I rambled and dried my face off and drank some water.

"I know, but it’s only your second race! It’s okay to make some mistakes!" he answered but I shook my head.

"Dad, I can’t afford making mistakes like this!” I mumbled and he gently patted my back "Every mistake I make is another reason for the media to shoot me down…"

"I know Lizzie! But you have to show them that you won’t let them drag you down! Show them how strong you are! Admit your mistake, but it was just that, a simple mistake that can happen, next time you’ll make it better. Period." Dad said and he smiled at me.

"Yeah… maybe you’re right… ok, ok! You are right!" I chuckled a little and he got back up.

"Come on now, Julie is waiting for you, you have some interviews to attend!" he pulled me up on my feet and pushed me into Julie’s direction.

"Hi Lizzie, second race and a P8. Little lock up of your tires towards the end. Talk us through." Natalie Pinkham from Sky UK was the first on my list for tonight and I shrugged my shoulders a little.

"Yeah, it wasn’t the best weekend. The track didn’t suit our car the best I think. I was struggling slightly on Friday, yesterday was better but then the penalty came in… the race was okay, I managed to make up a few positions but then I made a stupid mistake that made me lose P7. I finished ninth so yeah. It’s 2 points but it could’ve been a bit more if I didn’t lock up…" I answered and she smiled at me.

"That lock up looked like you were avoiding making contact with Pierre and Lando?" she asked and I nodded.

"I wanted to overtake Esteban in front of me, but he defended quiet good and the track is pretty narrow, so when I went in for the overtake he closed the door pretty sharply and I tried it on the outside but Pierre and Lando were already next to me and I knew if I’m not braking I’m straight into Lando who would probably touch Pierre in the process so I braked and then locked up… I was too harsh on the brake." I concluded and she smiled at me sympathetically.

"But all in all it was a good performance! From P11 to P8, you gained 3 positions on a track that isn’t the easiest and also new to you?" she said and I looked at her confused.

"I finished in P9?" I asked.

"Yes you did, but Lando got a 5 second penalty, so you’re in P8 now." Natalie said and I nodded.

"Oh okay, yeah well, I only gained 2 positions because of my driving, the one because of Lando’s penalty doesn’t count for me." I answered and she frowned a little.

"You’re very hard on yourself, aren’t you?" she said, smiling sympathetically and I shook my head.

"No, I’m just very aware of my driving… Today wasn’t my best race, I know I can do better than that and I hope in Australia I can showcase that…" I replied and she smiled.

"I’m sure you will, thank you Lizzie!" Natalie waved me off and I walked to the next interview.

Most of them were all the same, talking about the penalty, how I managed to overtake some cars and lastly how I made my mistake. I answered over and over the same things, again and again.

"One last interview with ESPN Spain and then we’re good." Julie said and I followed her, stopping in front of the Spanish tv crew. I immediately recognised the reporter, he was sitting next to Salva Diaz in Bahrain.

"Hola Lizzie, tough weekend for you! First the penalty for impeding Carlos and then today your lock up. Compared to last weekend it’s a little set back, isn’t it?" the reporter asked and I took a deep breath.

"It wasn’t as good as last week, that’s for sure. The penalty was unfortunate, starting from P11 instead of P8 wasn’t optimal, but I managed to gain some positions, but then I made a mistake and that’s it." I answered and he nodded.

"Last weekend looked easier, compared to this weekend? What changed?" he asked.

"The track didn’t suit our car that well. I had some problems with the track. That’s it." I replied.

"It had nothing to do with the drivers and their cars you had to overtake this weekend?" he asked then and I was taken aback for a moment.

"What do you mean?" I looked at him confused.

"Checo with a damaged car was no problem apparently…" he began.

"But Lewis was and I managed to do that, today as well, I might add, I also overtook Pierre and Lando today. It was my own mistake that made me lose positions. Thank you. Bye." I had enough. Julie nodded and we left the slightly mad looking Spaniard behind.

"Sorry, but that was annoying! I’m sick of people telling me that last weekend was not my own doing in some way…" I sighed and Julie just gently rubbed my arm.

"It’s okay, he was an asshole! Let’s get back, have our team meeting and then go back to the hotel!" she smiled at me and we walked back into our garage.

As the door opened and Charles walked in I jumped off the bed and walked to him, hugging him.

"I’m sorry!" I whispered but Charles only chuckled.

"For what?" he asked.

"For walking away, for not attending the podium celebrations…" I sighed.

"That’s nothing you have to apologise for? I know the feeling all too well… after a race that wasn’t that good you just want to be alone for a bit… it’s fine, ma belle!" Charles pushed me a little off of him to look at me "Don’t worry, okay?"

"Okay…" I whispered and walked back to the bed, plopping down.

"I’ll take a shower, I'll be back in a couple of minutes." Charles mumbled and I nodded, switching on the tv.

"Alright, what are we watching?" Charles jumped on the bed, sitting next to me, back against the headboard.

"I don’t know, maybe a movie, I’m not in the mood to party, sorry. But I’m sure you’ll have a good time without me!" I said, zapping through the channels.

"Nope, I’m good. I don’t want to party, staying in sounds perfect. But I’m really hungry…" Charles answered and I looked at him.

"You sure? I don’t want to ruin your evening, just because I’m in a bad mood after messing up my race with a stupid mistake…" I said and Charles groaned a little.

"Come on now! You’re way too hard on yourself! It’s only your second race! And you’re still in the points!" Charles said.

"But I don’t want to be still in the points! I want to be up there! Top 5 at least! Everything below isn’t good enough!" I mumbled and pulled the blanket over my head.

"Lizzie! You’re a freaking rookie! Stop that nonsense! You were good! Maybe not perfect, but you’ll get there! I know it! You made a mistake, now you can learn from it!" he tore the blanket away from my face and leaned over me "And can we now please order some food? I’m starving!"

"You know that you can go party with Max and Pierre?" I asked him but he shook his head "Just because of me you don’t have to stay in as well! You can go!"

"Nope, I’m exactly where I want to be… and now give me the menu!" Charles made grabby hands and I gave him the menu from the night stand.

"Thanks…" I whispered after a while and he pulled me close to his side.

"Always."

"It’s like a family vacation again!" Liam cheered and made himself comfortable in Charles lap "Can we go see Koalas? And Kangaroos? Oh and Wombats!"

"We’ll try to see every animal there is to see in Australia, Bubba!" Charles replied and Liam beamed up at him "It’s really sad that Marcus and Benji couldn’t join in…"

"Yeah, after Lisa had the flu last week, they’re now both sick as well." Mum sighed and I thought about Benjis heartbroken face when we FaceTimed yesterday.

"They’ll join us next time!" Dad said and I nodded, looking out of the window.

"Are you okay?" Charles whispered, when everyone was still asleep and I turned to him.

"I have a bad feeling…" I whispered and he waited for me to continue "I don’t know, it probably is nothing… it’s just. I don’t know! It feels like something is happening!"

"You’re just nervous! That’s okay! You’ll be great! Albert Park is a track that suits not just your car, also your driving style! And you know it! Just relax and let us enjoy some quiet days together, okay?" he said and I nodded, as the flight attendant stopped next to us.

"Excuse me, Sir, we will serve breakfast in the next few minutes." she said, a flirtatious smile on her lips.

"Thank you." he answered and gently stroked Liams back "Hey little man, you need to wake up." he whispered in German.

"Nope, tell Mami I want to sleep a little longer…" he yawned and snuggled deeper into Charles' chest. I had to giggle a little and Charles looked up at me, smiling. I gently tickled Liams side and he sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey Bubba!" I cooed at him and he yawned again, looking around, his look stayed on the flight attendant that still stood next to Charles, glancing at him. He slowly turned around, looking at me confusedly climbing out of Charles lap into mine.

"Who is that?" he asked me and I laughed.

"I think she has a crush on Charlie…" I whispered and although I wanted to make a light hearted joke, there was a tinge of jealousy in my voice and I hoped Charles didn’t hear it. He chuckled at my words and turned to the flight attendant.

"Is there anything else?" he smiled at her and she shook her head abruptly.

"No Sir! Sorry!" and with that she disappeared.

"She’s weird…" Liam whispered and I laughed as Sissy walked up to us "Mami the flight attendant has a crush on Charlie!"

"Oh really? Interesting…" she chuckled "Come on now, they serve breakfast and you need to sit down in your own seat, so Charlie can eat in peace!"

"Okaaaay…" Liam pouted but followed his mum anyway.

"So, are you telling me now, where our first stop will be and why we’re flying to Brisbane first, instead of Melbourne?" I asked Charles and he just shook his head.

"You just wait sunshine, you just wait…" he said and smiled his adorable smile.

"Can we open our eyes now?" Dad said next to me and I couldn’t wait for whatever surprise Charles had planned for us.

"Okay, 3,2,1… open your eyes!" Charles said and I opened them.

I slowly blinked a couple of times to get used to the bright daylight as Dad next to me chuckled.

We stood in front of the Australia Zoo.

"Oh my god…" I whispered and Dad looked at me "Dad! You know where we are, right?"

"I sure do!" he said and he looked at Charles, pulling him to his side "Amazing, Charles! What a great idea!"

"I know that you are huge fans of Steve Irwin and watched his shows all the time and now the new show with his kids. So yeah, welcome to Australia Zoo…" Charles said and a van parked next to us "Oh and look who’s here as well…"

The door opened and Mick got out followed by Seb, Hanna and the kids.

"Heeeey!" I said and hugged first Seb then Mick "What a pleasant surprise!"

Next I hugged Hanna and high fived Emilie, Matilda and Philipp. As everyone greeted each other we headed inside. I was more than excited and the kids almost freaked out when they saw that we were welcomed with a bunch of different animals for us to pet. I crouched down next to Liam and Matilda who both looked at a lizard with big eyes.

"It has a blue tongue! That looks funny!" Matilda said and Liam nodded.

"Yeah! Why is it blue?" he asked.

"It’s a blue-tongued skink, their tongues are just blue, there is no specific reason for that." the zookeeper explained.

"Looks like it licked one of those lollipops that colour your tongue…" Liam chuckled and the zookeeper nodded.

"Exactly!" she smiled at him "His name is Oscar, you can pet him if you want to!"

Liam made big eyes and looked at me.

"Can you do it first?" he whispered and I swallowed, I hadn’t planned to touch that skink but now I had to. I slowly stretched out my hand and petted the back of it and Liam smiled, then he followed my lead.

"Good job, Bubba!" Charles said as he was crouching down next to us.

"Now it’s your turn, Charlie!" Matilda said and Charles' eyes widened "Come on! Oscar is cute!"

"Yeah… he really is…" Charles looked at the reptile and with a not so steady hand he carefully petted Oscar, the blue-tongued skink.

"You’re really brave, Charlie!" I chuckled and he pinched my side. "What about petting a snake?"

"No. Definitely not." he said immediately and I laughed. Charles and snakes. That was a big no.

"We have some special guests with us, I can see!" a young male voice behind us said and we turned around. Robert Irwin and his mum Terri stood in front of us, both with a koala bear in their arms.

"Hi guys, I’m Terri, it’s so good to see you all!" Terri introduced herself and I was a little star struck. We slowly introduced ourselves one by one and Terri and Robert smiled at us.

"Who wants to cuddle with Leia, our little koala joey?" Robert asked and the kids all made big eyes "Come on, she’s the cutest little koala girl."

"And this is Maxy, he’s Leila’s older brother." Terri rubbed the koala boy between the ears and the bear snuggled into her arm. I was in awe as I walked up closer "You want to hold him, Lizzie? He’s a good boy."

"Yes please! Oh god! Look at this cute little fella!" I was over the moon when Terri gently laid the koala in my arms and he snuggled into me "I will never ever let go of him! Oh god! He’s adorable!" I scratched the little head of Maxy and he made a cute little sound.

"He likes you!" Terri smiled at me and as Maxy climbed up a little towards the eucalyptus I held in my right hand, he lifted my shirt with his leg, turning it into a crop top.

"Hey little one, please don’t undress me!" I chuckled.

We spent the whole day with Robert and Terri, they were showing us around the zoo, the animal clinic with hundreds of saved wild animals that they will return back to their natural habitat once they’re healthy enough. The crocodiles where we could watch Robert feed a huge one for us. It was an amazing day and when we were walking out, after saying goodbye to Terri and Robert the kids were chatting excitedly and Dad and I were deep in a conversation about the crocodiles.

"Charles?" he looked up from his phone "Today was… incredible! Thank you…"

"I’m just glad you had a good time." he smiled and I nodded.

"More than a good time… it was perfect!" I replied and he sat up, careful not to wake up Liam who fell asleep after we watched a movie together, earlier.

"You and Pops looked so happy today… the kids loved it too… and you and that koala? Adorable! It was an amazing day for all of us!" he said and I smiled.

"Yeah, it really was! A very long, but incredible day. Thank you so much!" I said with a little yawn.

"You’re very welcome and now sleep! We’ll go to the beach tomorrow and then in the evening we’ll fly to Melbourne!" Charles said and I scooted down, cuddling up next to Liam, Charles switched the light off and then did the same.

The Thursday in Melbourne started with the shooting of an episode of Grill the Grid, I was really excited for it. Watching it the last years was, apart from the races obviously, one of my favourite things about F1. Seeing the drivers out of their element was so much fun, even though some were clearly showing how big of a geek they are, Seb recalling all of the World Champions going back was more than impressive. I stood in front of a camera crew, next to me a chart, waiting for what I had to do, feeling giddy and ready to go.

"We’ve got a height chart for you and we’ve got magnets with all driver’s names and we’ll give you 2 minutes to put them in height order from tallest to shortest." Angelina explained and I nodded, taking the magnets from her "Ready for your first Grill the Grid?"

"Yup! Let’s go!" I answered determinedly and the crew laughed.

"Ok, your time starts now!" Angelina started the timer and I began to go through the magnets.

"Okay, easiest first, Yuki is the shortest, done. Who’s the tallest? Esteban, Alex, Nicholas and George are all pretty damn tall! I’ll put them together… okay then Max and Lance? They look the same? Yeah that’s fine… Charles is 1.80 that I know so I’ll put him here… Danny? He’s the same as Charles, no? Then Carlos, Pierre? They’re a little shorter than Danny and Charles? I think?" I talked more with myself and was trying my best to get through the grid mentally. I looked at the board and the magnets in my hand. "I think after Yuki I’m the shortest? I think Fernando is the same? Or is he maybe even slightly taller? Yeah let’s make him above me, don’t want to bruise his ego…" I chuckled and Angelina and the rest of the crew laughed.

"He’ll be delighted!" she said and I laughed.

"Who do I have left? Lewis? I think he’s also around Carlos and Pierre… yeah that looks about right… ok then I think Seb and Mick? They are the same I think? God! I was just spending some time with them! I should’ve paid more attention to their height! Yeah let’s put them under Lewis anyway… Kevin? How tall or short is Kevin?" I stood there and tried to remember a moment where Kevin stood next to someone else but my mind blanked.

"And that‘s time!" Angelina said and I was shocked.

"What?! Already? Nooo!" I put the last names on the board, in no real order.

"Alright. Let’s see!" Angelina began and looked at her clipboard "So Ocon is the tallest, then we have Albon and Latifi, both 1.86, then George… next we have Max then Lance. So far you were mostly right, technically you put Ocon higher than Albon and Russell and Latifi… so yeah we’ll give that to you. But Charles is taller than Danny Ric."

"Is he? By how much? A centimetre?" I laughed and she nodded.

"Yeah! Charles says he’s 1.80 and Danny 1.79… next up Carlos, then Pierre. Lewis is shorter than our next three drivers: with a height of 1.76 we have Vettel, Schumacher and Norris…" Angelina said and I laughed.

"Lando? 1.76? Did he wear platoon shoes when they were measuring him?" I said and they all laughed.

"That’s what he says…" she said.

"You should give that to the stewards!"

"We might!" Angelina chuckled and looked down on her clipboard again "Now we have Hamilton, together with Magnussen, then Checo and Bottas, there you were correct! And then our bottom three Alonso, you and Tsunoda…"

"I mean I aced that part for sure!" I laughed and Angelina nodded.

"That’s 14, no 15 points for you! Well done!" she said and they all clapped and cheered.

"Easy peasy, Lemon squeezie!" I laughed. When I left for the media pen I felt relaxed and was in a pretty good mood. If the rest of the weekend would go like this challenge, it would be amazing.

Charles POV:

As I walked past the Audi hospitality coming from the press conference, Lizzie walked out and spotted me, her face lit up and she sprinted up to me, hugging me tight and when she pulled away, she kissed my cheek.

"Hi to you, too!" I chuckled and she blushed a little "What was that for?"

"Felix told me… well showed me." she replied, her voice a little shaky.

"Felix told you what?" I was confused.

"The video!" she said and I realised what she meant "You and Seb! Oh well and Joris, of course! I know what your edits look like…"

"I mean, I told you that I would do everything to get you a seat… but funnily enough, Felix said they already chose you before the video, but they liked it, it showed them they made the right decision!" I laughed and she hugged me again.

"Thank you, Charlie! So, so much!" she whispered and kissed my cheek again, my skin tingling and heating up.

"You would’ve done the same…" I whispered back.

"Yeah and I would’ve edited the video myself!" she giggled into the crook of my neck, tickling my skin with her warm breath and I hugged her even closer, our bodies melting together.

After a while someone cleared their throat behind us and we pulled away.

"We want to leave…" Andrea said, grinning like a devil.

"Yeah, umm-I need my stuff…" I began and Andrea held up my backpack "Cool. Thanks Andrea!" I took it from him and looked at Lizzie "You ready?"

"Yup, let’s go…" she smiled at us and for the millionth time, it took me to another planet.

The free practices went by in a breeze, I felt good in the car, the best I felt for a long time. I was confident that this weekend could be even better than Bahrain, not to mention Jeddah…

I waited behind Max at the pit exit. Q3 was about to start and I felt how the adrenaline rushed through my veins.

"Alright Lizzie. You can push a little more in sector 2, data showed that the traction there was good and you could give a little more." Pete said.

"Whole sector 2?"

"Yes."

"How many warm-up laps?"

"Try 2."

"Copy."

The tires felt great, there wasn’t much traffic on the track and after my second out lap I breezed past the track. I almost yelled out in glee.

"S1, PURPLE! S2, PURPLE! S3, PURPLE! LIZZIE YOU’RE P1!" Pete shouted on the radio.

"No way?! Are you sure?!"

"Positive. Max is P2. Perez P3."

"Charles?"

"Starts his warm-up lap now. Box now."

"Copy."

As I drove into the pit lane I saw Charles breeze past me and I hoped he would have an amazing lap as well.

"We use the used softs from this morning, you drove only one lap on them."

"Alright. Where am I now?"

"P2. Charles P1. Max P3."

"Let’s go."

I drove out of the pits. One last warm-up lap.

"With you on track Charles, Max, Perez, Russell."

"Will I get into traffic?"

"Not if you make it through in one go."

"Copy."

Let’s go. One last lap to put my car in the front row.

Sector 1 felt fast, Sector 2 felt even faster, as I breached into Sector 3 the yellow flag was waved.

"FUCK! WHAT HAPPENED!" I was fuming.

"Alonso crashed." Pete said.

"Damn it. Is he okay?"

"He’s okay."

"Is it over?" I was hoping for a no, but then I saw the red flag.

"Yeah." Fuck.

"Charles on pole. And then?"

"Max P2. You P3. Perez P4."

"P3?" I was disappointed.

"You were amazing! You had purple in S1 and 2. Probably could’ve had purple in S3 as well."

"It’s okay." It wasn’t. It sucked. But I had 58 laps to catch up to Charles. But for now I had to accept the defeat. Head back to the hotel and get a good nights sleep to be on top of my game for the race.

"Lizzie! What a weekend! Almost your first pole! P2 today! And it’s only your third race!" Mark Webber had to almost yell his questions because of the noise and I smiled as I saw Dad with Liam on his shoulders standing at the fence hugging Charles.

"Unbelievable! After the quali yesterday I had a good feeling that we could have an amazing race and everything worked so well! The guys at the pit wall, the pit crew, it worked all out in the end!" I answered and my team cheered even louder.

"You almost overtook Max instantly at the race start but then it got a little heated with Max, Sergio, Lando and Lewis?" Mark asked.

"I don’t know what happened exactly but yeah it got a little bumpy and then I had a puncture somehow and had to pit, but again the team did an amazing job and I didn’t lose too many positions." I replied and he nodded.

"What happened with Carlos? It looked like you two had a tough battle? Before his race ended?" he looked at me and I shook my head.

"I will have to check the footage to fully understand what happened… we had a tough battle indeed and when I tried to overtake him back he locked up and lost the rear I think? I don’t know, I have to look into it. But yeah I tried to go through the field as fast as possible and now I’m here." I concluded and he patted my arm.

"And you deserve it! Enjoy your P2!" with that I was ushered directly into the cool down room, where George was already sitting.

"I think after today there is no one who could doubt that you belong here!" he said and watched at the screen that showed how I overtook first Lando and Lewis in one go and later himself "You did amazing!"

"Thanks, George! You too! Checo had no chance!" I smiled at him as Charles walked in.

"I could get used to this. You and I, in here, together!" he chuckled and I laughed.

"Me too, believe me!" I said.

"Can I join?" George joked and I chuckled.

"Guys? Are you ready?" an F1 official picked us up for the podium ceremony. My second one in my third race. I couldn’t wait for the day where I could hear the German national anthem. Rather sooner than later.

"You almost won! You were this close to beating Charlie!" Liam chirped and Charles scooped him up.

"She really was close, right? For a moment there I thought she would overtake me!" he said and Liam made big eyes.

"Yeah sure… how long did you have to wait for that jump scare? 20 seconds?" I asked.

"Something like that…" he laughed and I rolled my eyes at him.

"You’re a jerk!" I whispered and he pulled me to his side, giving me his puppy eyes while pouting "But you’re a cute jerk, I'll give you that!"

"That’s what I wanted to hear!" he answered and I laughed.

"Come on now little man, it’s late and you gotta go to bed!" Dad said and Liam whined a little.

"Can’t we stay a little longer? Mami and Omi are already gone! They won’t miss us!" he asked but Dad shook his head.

"Bubba, Lizzie and I have to go now anyways! We have team meetings! And they will take a long time! So you can go ahead and tomorrow at breakfast we think about what we’re doing until we have to leave for the airport at noon!" Charles said and I nodded.

"He’s right! The team meetings will take forever!" I agreed and Liam sighed.

"Okaaaay…" he said and I gave him a kiss on his cheek and hugged him.

"Good night, little one!" I whispered and Charles did the same, before passing him into Dads arms.

"Good night guys, see you tomorrow!" Dad gave me a kiss on the cheek and a side hug to Charles before he left with Liam.

"I’ll pick you up later and we leave together?" Charles asked and I nodded.

"Yep… see you later!" I smiled at him and walked back into the Audi garage.

After reviewing the fight with Carlos I was in a bad mood, although everyone said it wasn’t my fault, for some reason I wasn’t convinced. Charles opened the car door and looked at me.

"Come on, ma belle… Carlos DNF isn’t your fault!" he said and pulled me to his side "You can’t blame yourself for the mistakes of others!" he kissed my temple and gently nudged me to get in, then he closed the door, walked around the car and sat down in the drivers seat.

"But it was my mistake, I shouldn’t have tried to get past him there!" I sighed and leaned back into the seat.

"You’re too nice, I hope you know that." Charles started the engine and I rolled my eyes "I’m serious, he was this close to sending you into the barriers a couple of times. Wouldn’t you always leave him the space, he would’ve ended both your races."

"How do you wanna know? You were ahead of us." I said and watched how he effortlessly merged into the busy road.

"It has its perks being the race leader with no one behind you, you can watch the race on the screens." Charles chuckled and I boxed his shoulder.

"Ha-ha. Very funny!" I groaned and he just shrugged his shoulders "Do you really think so? That I’m too nice?"

"Lizzie, yes, the part of the track was narrow, but he turned into you when you were leaving him enough space trying to overtake him… and when he realised that this time you won’t back down, he locked up and lost the rear. So yes, I think you’re too nice. It was his mistake not yours. You defended your position like a lioness! And it got you a freaking P2!" Charles smiled at me proudly.

"Maybe I have to get my edge back, you know? Maybe I lost it a little." I said and looked out of the window.

"One thing is for sure, the old Lizzie would’ve eaten him alive… that mistake of his? You would’ve made him do that after his first attempt." Charles said and I looked at him "But it’s okay, it’s only your third race after over 2 years… for now I’m just so proud of you, ma belle!" he squeezed my knee and I smiled. Yeah maybe I had to try and get my edge back "Now we will have a nice shower, then dinner and then we’ll celebrate your P2! You’re coming closer and closer to that top step after only 3 races!"

"We’ll celebrate your win first and foremost! And then maybe my P2!" I laughed and Charles grinned "I would’ve never dreamt that this would happen one day… we’re celebrating your win and my P2 after our race in Formula 1!"

"I never ever had any doubts! You deserve this! And it’s just a matter of time until we’re celebrating your first win! I really believe in it!" he said with such determination that even I started to believe in it "But for tonight, it’s party time!"

And party time it was, the club was full, dark and loud, a whole lot of people grinding their bodies at each other, the table in front of us full of bottles of alcohol. Daniel, George, Lando, Max, Alex, Yuki and Pierre were celebrating with us.

"I’d like to say cheers to Charles for a dominating weekend and an amazing race, congrats winner! Cheers to our lovely Lizzie for defending like a lioness, sorry Max!, securing her P2! And last but not least, cheers to George for his P3, after a tough fight with Checo, you deserve it man! Cheers to that!" Daniel said and we all toasted our glasses. Shortly after we made our way onto the dance floor were I could feel my body tingle from the adrenaline and the alcohol. I felt hands on my hips and as I turned around Charles, with adorably flushed cheeks, smiled at me.

"Hey pretty girl, you come here often?" he said in an overly flirtatious tone and I giggled.

"No, but my best friend won’t like it when you’re coming this close to me, Monsieur!" I chuckled and Charles raised an eyebrow.

"I’m not worried about a best friend… would he be you boyfriend? Then maybe…" he whispered in my ear and his breath on my skin made me shudder.

"Yeah?" I replied and he looked me deep in the eyes.

"Yeah…" he answered, almost breathless, then he took my hand and dragged me with him in a dark corner.

And then it happened. My hands in his hair, his hand on my waist, the other carefully grabbing my chin. Charles pushed me slowly against the wall, his eyes on mine, then he closes them, takes a deep breath and his lips touched mine. I felt a shudder going through his body, like he couldn’t believe that this was happening. His kiss was soft, even a little shy at first and it coaxed a sigh of contentment from my mouth which he breathed in, a low groan emanating from his throat. He pecked my lips again, gently pulling away and looking deep into my eyes, as if he waited for me to pull away. Then he captured my lips in a fierce kiss again, my mind was reeling, breathing stopped, skin burned, butterflies created a tornado in my stomach. His tongue poked at my lips and I allowed him the entrance to my mouth. His tongue tasted like lime and ginger. I was high above the sky and the oxygen level in my body went down, until there was nothing left. And that was when I felt it. Fear. Panic. What were we doing? What the hell were we doing! I loved him, more than just a best friend, yes. But this could destroy everything, our friendship, our families, us. This was just the alcohol taking over. So I pushed him off of me.

"Lizzie…" he began but I brushed past him, he followed me but I was faster, losing him in the crowd. I walked out of the club, across the street and turned right and kept walking, bringing enough space between us. As I got my phone out to order an Uber I saw 5 missed calls and some texts. I ignored them and waited for the Uber.

I closed the door and sank down to the floor, trying to steady my breath. What happened? What the actual fuck just happened? For years I never acted upon my instincts, my feelings, even if they were yearning for me to do it. Even when every fibre of body was screaming at me to finally do it. The alcohol. It clouded my mind. I had way too much. My breathing ragged and I felt sick. Why did he do it? How many drinks did he have? Why didn’t he stop it? My mind was running wild and I leaned my head back at the door and took some deep breaths. I groaned and checked the time on my phone. 03:12. 17 missed calls from Charles, 6 from Pierre. 25+ messages. He would check our hotel first. I needed to get out of here. I had to book another room. I needed space. I threw all my belongings I could see in my suitcase, changed into leggings and a Hoodie, took my backpack and left the room.

"I’m sorry Miss Doetterer, there aren’t any rooms available. I could offer you one of our primary suits if you’re interested?" the lady at the front desk said and I shook my head.

"Can you order me a cab to the airport? Like now? I just book the first flight available at the airport that’s fine." I asked and she nodded and called a cab.

Charles POV:

"Where the fuck is she?" I stalked through our room into the bathroom but she was gone "Pierre, her suitcase is gone? Most of her stuff?"

"What happened back in the club, Charles? You guys were fine and then out of nowhere you weren’t anymore?" he asked and sat down on the bed.

"We kissed…" I sighed and plopped down next to him, my head was pounding, I was tired but also scared, not knowing where Lizzie was, was making me anxious.

"Oh… okay? And?" he asked and I closed my eyes.

"It was amazing… god Pierre! My whole body was on fire! And there was like a million of butterflies or whatever in my stomach going wild and crazy! Everything tingled! Her lips were so soft and that little sigh… It felt natural. It felt right. Like our bodies belong together… I can’t get enough of her… she’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of…" I said and Pierre laughed.

"Oh cabron. You’re down bad! But then again, you’ve always been for her! But it seems like she didn’t like it, or why is she gone?" he asked and I swallowed hard.

"Because she’s scared… I could see it in her eyes. She’s scared of this…" I said and he nodded.

"Let’s call the front desk? Maybe she asked for another room because she needed space?" this time I nodded, sat up and he took the phone from the night stand and made the call.

"Alright. Thank you, you too." Pierre hung up and I looked at him "So she asked for another room. There was non available, so she took a cab to the airport to check into the first flight to Europe, that was around an hour ago…"

"She’s gone?" I whispered and Pierre nodded. I fell back down again. Hands covering my face. I tried to take a deep breath but it didn’t work. My lungs were burning. Eyes stinging with tears. Because I couldn’t control my feelings, my instincts, my whatever, she felt the urge to flee the country. I pushed her into running away from me. Good fucking job, Charles.

"Charles? You ok?" Pierre asked and I shook my head, tears threatening to spill.

"What if I destroyed the one good thing in my life that I had? Lizzie gave her everything for me and I pushed her to the point where she had to flee the country?" I whispered, my voice hoarse, throat dry.

"Maybe she just needs some time to figure out her feelings for you, because even a blind guy could see that you two are in love for… basically forever?" Pierre said and I just nodded "Go to sleep now, Charles. Call her when you’re back home. You two will figure it out."

"Thanks, Pierre." I mumbled and sat up again as my phone rang, I grasped it from the bed and answered it without checking the ID "Lizzie?"

"Excuse me, who is this?" a male voice.

"Who wants to know that?" I ask confused and Pierre looked at me asking so I put the call on speaker.

"My name’s officer Matt Breckman, customs and border control, Melbourne International Airport, am I speaking to Mr. Charles Leclerc?" the male voice asked and I swallowed.

"Yes, Sir, that’s me." I answered "Can you please tell me what’s going on?"

"Are you in the possession of Miss Elisabeth Doetterer’s passport?" he asked then and before I could answer I heard a familiar voice in the background.

"He’s not in possession of my passport, I forgot it in our room when I left!" Lizzie said annoyed.

"Lizzie? What’s going on?" I asked nervously.

"Sir, we had to take Miss Doetterer into our custody after she checked in for a flight to Singapore without showing her passport, as we asked her to present it she broke down in tears. We assumed her passport was forcefully taken away from her as she ran away or something…" Officer Breckman began but Lizzie in the back interrupted him again.

"He’s not keeping it away from me and I didn’t run away from him! I simply forgot it in our hotel room!" she sounded mad.

"Officer Breckman, I can assure you her passport wasn’t taken away from her, in fact, I will get in the car and bring it to you, is that alright?" I offered and the Officer agreed.

"Thank you, Sir! Have a wonderful day!" I said and put on my biggest fake smile and he only nodded and walked away. I looked at Lizzie. Bloodshot eyes, pale, hair disheveled.

"I’m sorry that you had to come here. You probably were still partying or already fast asleep. I forgot some of my stuff while packing…" she began but I scoffed.

"You weren’t packing Lizzie, you were throwing your stuff in your suitcase and fleeing… because of me… look I’m sorry for overstepping the line… no, you know what, scratch that, I’m not sorry that I did what I always want to do near you… and you felt it t…" I began to ramble but Lizzie shook her head grabbing her backpack.

"Stop, I can’t!" she whispered and looked at me.

"Why are you running away from me? From this? What are you scared of?" I asked her but she only shook her head.

"Charles we… I need space." she whispered and with that she turned away, I gently grabbed her wrist, holding her back from leaving me.

"Don’t leave me, Lizzie. Please. Stay. Don’t leave me. Not like this. Please!" I pleaded, but she hung her head low, pulled her hand out of my grasp and walked to the security check in, not once looking back. Leaving me standing alone at the airport. And with my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, she was gone…

————————————————————————

Little Note:

That's it, chapter 14 is out - it FINALLY happened… Lizzie and Charles kissed… and then she left him 🙈 oooopsie. What will happen next 👀 theories anyone?

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @glitterf1 @janeholt3

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

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thankskenpenders · 11 months

Note

I feel like a recent years have shown that fan reaction has influenced the way Sega handles Sonic in some ways. Frontiers for example in a lot of ways feels like a reaction to complain. So a lot of fans have had about mainline Sonic games.

With that said what do you think about Sega making a multi-character 3D action game Sonic and then slapping it on a platform that has some of the least amount of player reach despite being a mainline platform?

I would be very curious to know more about the development behind Dream Team for sure, but as far as I'm aware the game was more than likely made specifically for Apple Arcade from the very start with heavy involvement from Apple, rather than being a project Sega was shopping around that just so happened to end up as an Apple exclusive.

I have to assume that this game would not exist at all if it wasn't an Apple Arcade project. Hardlight is very much Sega's mobile game division first and foremost, so it's unlikely (if not impossible) that Sega would've had them working on a 3D Sonic platformer for consoles and PC when that's Sonic Team's job. And Apple Arcade's subscription revenue is basically the only home for mobile games that aren't chock full of ads, microtransactions, and wait timers these days. So while it could theoretically get ported elsewhere in the future, it's unlikely that Dream Team ever would've gotten made for any other platform.

Like, there are already two Sonic games on Apple Arcade. Sonic Racing (based off of TSR) was one of the earliest releases for the service and has always been heavily promoted as one of Apple Arcade's flagship games. Later they also did Sonic Dash+, a version of the existing endless runner game with the ads and microtransactions stripped out. I have to assume that these games have done well on Apple Arcade, and Apple simply looked at that and went "Hey, what if we got them to make us an ORIGINAL Sonic game?" Apple Arcade also appeals pretty heavily to parents who want their kids to have something to play on their iPads that isn't cram full of microtransactions, and Sonic remains extremely popular with kids.

But beyond that, why they landed on a full 3D platformer with SIX playable characters, some amount of story, and a new style of level design that takes some influence from skate parks? Who knows. Maybe some folks at Sega Hardlight were just dying to make something like that, and the Apple gig was their opportunity to make it happen after so many years being stuck working on glorified Skinner boxes. Or maybe Apple thought a 3D platformer would be good to diversify their portfolio. Again, I'd be very curious to learn more

(Also, honestly, as annoyed as I am that I have to play Dream Team on my iPad instead of my PC or a console, I do find the talking point that "no one will be able to play it" extremely silly. There are billions of iPhones, iPads, Mac computers, and to a lesser extent Apple TVs out there. Billions. With a B. Apple Arcade reportedly had over 100 million users last year. That's quadruple the number of subscribers Game Pass had, even though if you asked the average gamer they'd probably assume Game Pass was the more popular one! Exclusivity is always frustrating, and I sympathize with folks annoyed that they don't have any devices that can play it, but the fandom deciding that "only six people will be able to play this" is completely divorced from reality.)

#dustybins #ask #tkp asks

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skippyv20 · 2 years

Text

💜💜💜💜💜🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥GREETINGS FROM OG🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥💜💜💜

I AM APPALLED AT THE CONDUCT, LIES, EVIL😈😈ON PARADE ACROSS THE GLOBE BY THE TWO WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED! I FEEL SICKENED FOR THE YEARS I SPENT HERE DEFENDING THE MALE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED. WHAT A BETRAYAL OF EVERYTHING FOR CENTURIES HIS FAMILY HAS HELD DEAR.

I AM SO GLAD HMTQ AND HIMSELF ARE IN HEAVEN FOR SURE THEY WOULD BE ROLLING OVER IN THEIR GRAVES!!

THOSE OF US WHO HAVE BEEN HERE FOR YEARS, ALBEIT MANY MAY NOT KNOW ME BECAUSE I HAVE NOT BEEN HERE FOR AWHILE BECAUSE SHE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED EVIL WAS AFFECTING ME. WE HAVE SEEN SINCE THE BEGINNING WITH THE SET UP SHOWN IN THE PICTURES OUR BELOVED SKIPPY ONLY WAS SENT AND SHOW THE PLAN BY LONDON SCOOP. THIS WAS ALL PREPLANNED BY THE ELITE/EVIL.

DEAR ONE HAVE YOU RECENTLY POSTED LONDON SCOOP OR THOSE PHOTOS FROM TORONTO?? FORGIVE AS I HAVE JUST BEEN BARELY BACK ON THE IPAD. THOSE EVIDENTIARY ITEMS PROVE THIS WAS PLANNED YEARS AGO. WE HAVE WATCHED WHAT WE WERE FORETOLD UNFOLD BEFORE OUR HORRIFIED FACES. MAKE NO MISTAKE, SATAN IS WORKING HARD AT THIS EVIL AGENDA. THE MONARCH IS THE OFFICIAL HEAD OF THE C OF E AND SCOTLAND AS WELL. I CAN ONLY IMAGINE THE SECURITY ISSUES MI5 AND MI6 ARE DEALING WITH. PLEASE PRAY FOR THE SAFETY AND THE EMOTIONAL STRENGTH AND FORTITUDE OF OUR BELOVED KING, QUEEN CONSORT AND THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF WALES AS THEY ARE SO VULGARLY AND VICIOUSLY LIBELLED AND ATTACKED.

I OFTEN WONDER WHERE LONDON SCOOP IS. I CAN ONLY IMAGINE THE HORROR OF FINDING OUT THE DETAILS OF THIS PLOT. AT THAT TIME IT WOULD HAVE BEEN INCONCEIVABLE THAT HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED WOULD BE SUCH A TRAITOR. IT IS STILL HARD TO FATHOM WHAT IS ALL HAPPENING AND HAS HAPPENED.

MM ANON ARE YOU STILL HERE? I MISS YOU, WE SHARED GREAT RIDDLES AND AWESOME VIGNETTES. I ENJOYED YOU SO MUCH. DON’T THINK I COULD DO THAT MOE BUT I AM STILL RECOVERING!

MY LOVE TO ALL WHO CALL ME FRIEND HERE STILL. I WISH YOU ALL THE MERRIEST OR HAPPIEST CHRISTMASES AS MY UK FRIENDS SAY HAPPY CHRISTMAS ❄️⛄️🎄⛄️❄️.

I SAW THIS ON YOUR BLOG TODAY. IT SATS EXACTLY HOW I AM FEELING. I AM SO GRATEFUL TO BE ALIVE WITHOUT PERMANENT BRAIN OR KIDNEY DAMAGE. RECOVERY IS A MARATHON NOT A RACE. BUT I AM SENDING THE HOSPITAL BED AND TABLE BACK!! PRAYERS ANSWERED, THANK YOU ALLFOR YOURS. THEY CALLED ME TODAY AND HOPEFULLY THEY CAN PICK THEM UPSOON SO I CAN GET MY REAL BED MOVED BACK IN AND MAKE MY ROOM ALL PURPLE AGAIN!

DEAR ONE, I SEND YOU LOTS OF LOVE. WHEN I WAS SUFFERING TREMENDOUSLY LEG SPASMS AS THE MUSCLE TISSUE IN MY LEG WAS DYING AND RELEASING TOXINS, I SAID THE FLYING NOVENA OVER AND OVER. PADRE PIO HAS BEEN SUCH A HELP. YOU GAVE ME THAT AND I AM FOREVER GRATEFUL AND ALWAYS HAVE SO MUCH LOVE FOR YOUMY FRIEND.

THE ONE BAD FALL WAS JULY 29TH, ONE OF THE WORST I WAS ON THE FLOOR MANY HOURS. MY LEFT LEG WAS ALLBLACK AND HARD. THERE ARE STILL BRUISE SCARS WHICH MY GP SAYS WILL LIKELY BE PERMANENT. I HAVE A RATHER LARGE CONCAVE AREA IN MY LEFT CALF MUSCLE. BUT I CAN WALK AND STRONGER EVERY DAY WITH MY WALKER!! I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR THE HOSPITAL CARE, ALLTHE IN HOME CARE I AM RECEIVING. NEXT WEEK IN HOME PHYSIO STARTS! IF I MAY, AND YOU ARE SO INCLINED MIGHT YOU JUST SAY A WEE PRAYER FOR ME PLEASE?

ALL MY LOVE TO YOU ALL, MY FRIENDS HERE KNOW WHO THEY ARE.💜💜💜💜💜💜🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜PG🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥🦥💜💜💜💜💜

GOD SAVE THE KING AND OUR BELOVED COMMONWEALTH 🇬🇧 🇨🇦 🇦🇺 🇳🇿

Thank you PG! Ongoing prayers for your recovery…..take care…love and hugs…🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜

#Ask Skippy #submission

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Comics | A.G

Paring: Aidan Gallagher X Fem!Reader

Summary: Aidan meets an unusually pretty girl at a library while trying to find a textbook for school

Warnings: Cursing

This male was not easily captivated by females. His heart was guarded with the highest of security. Being hurt multiple times was the reason for his high guard.

Not only that, but he was surrounded by actresses and models his entire life. Pretty girls didn’t phase him. Smart girls did. Intelligence was a significant impresser for him.

This girl, whom he found himself falling for, was extremely intelligent. She was a good beauty, of course, but her smarts are what made her stand out. Her sense of style was odd as well.

Her earrings had Yahtzee tiles, the right ear had the letter F, and the left had the letter U. She wouldn’t be her without her signature, Doc Martens. A blank jacket usually resided around her waist, along with a graphic tee covering her chest. Jeans or leggings were generally on her legs.

Aidan adored her. She was gorgeous, and her brains were brilliant. Her personality was bright, just like her vibrant dyed hair. This girl we’ve been speaking about, you may ask? Her name was Y/n L/n, and she was brilliant.

Y/n had finished college by the time she was just twenty, and Aidan was just finishing his associate's degree. They met at a library.

She was browsing through the comic book section like she frequently did. He was looking for a textbook, but his eyes were caught on this extraordinary female sitting at a table alone. The textbook had fallen from his hands, causing a clattering noise.

Y/n perked up at the sound and saw him. He was cute, in her opinion. But he seemed so far out of her league. He was adorable. He picked up the textbook and sent her an awkward smile that made her heart race.

She looked over at the nervous male and sent him a wink which caused his cheeks to flush a scarlet. Aidan walked over and bought the textbook. Then with hesitation, he walked to her table and sat before her.

Y/n slowly looked up from her comic book to see him with an open textbook out, accompanied by an iPad which was meant for writing notes. Y/n’s head laid in the palms of her hands.

“ Did I startle you? “ Aidan queried nervously, “ No, not at all. But it seems that I have surprised you. “ Y/n smirked, and Aidan blushed again.

“ Y- You did startle me. “ Aidan stammered, “ That’s adorable. “ Y/n snickered.

“ Whatcha got their pretty boy? “ Y/n questioned, trying to glimpse at the textbook, “ O- Oh, it’s um- “ Aidan began as he scrambled through his notes.

“ It’s my last class. I need to get my associate's degree. I graduate in December. “ Aidan answered, “ I remember those days. “ Y/n reminisced.

Aidan furrowed his eyebrows at the girl, “ Got a question for me? “ Y/n teased, “ I don’t mean to be rude, but how old are you? “ Aidan asked out of pure curiosity.

“ Twenty years old graduated college with my bachelors in May. “ Y/n responded, and Aidan was taken aback, “ H- How? “

Y/n chuckled, “ I started college my junior year of high school. I work as a comic book artist. This is part of my work. I analyze comic books because it helps me when working to draw my characters. “

“ H- Have you read The Umbrella Academy? “ Aidan inquired, “ Indeed. It was one of my assignments to analyze it in college. I’ve also watched the Netflix series. You are Number Five, if I’m not mistaken. “ Y/n explained.

Aidan visually gulped, “ Y- Yeah. I did play Number Five. “ Aidan replied, “ So you’re the famous Aidan Gallagher. “ Y/n taunted.

“ I guess so. “ Aidan responded, “ So Whats someone as famous as you talking to little me? Mm? “

Aidan’s cheeks flushed again, “ Y- You caught my eye. I think you’re pretty. “ The male nervously spoke, “ But if the rumors are true, beauty doesn’t appeal to you. Intelligence does. “ Y/n replied with a slight smirk.

Aidan didn’t speak. She knew him or knew about him. She was smart, brilliant. She had all her facts and knew them like the back of her hand. It left him astonished.

“ Might wanna close your mouth. You might catch swallow a fly by accident. However, it’s just a suggestion. “ Y/n winked, and Aidan immediately closed his jaw.

Without another second passing, Y/n stood up with her book in hand. Then she exited the building. Aidan was left in shock at the forward female. Now he was left wondering if he would ever see him again.

A couple of days later, it was Saturday. This meant that Aidan would go live for his Patreon. Secretly he hoped that the girl would join. Hell, he didn’t even get her name. He’d never find her again.

Aidan started the live, and immediately the chat was filled with different comments. The male searched through some of them. He was desperately looking for something to start a conversation with.

“ ‘Do you have more music planned?’ “ Aidan read aloud, “ Yes, indeed I do. I’ve recently been overwhelmed with inspiration. “ The male answered.

Again he skimmed through the comments, “ ‘What was the past week like?’ “ Aidan questioned, “ Well, I’d say it was interesting. I met this person getting my textbook for my last class, and they were very intriguing. “

Now the comments were flooded with questions asking who this person was or what they looked like. Aidan scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“ I- I actually didn’t get their name. “ Aidan stuttered out, “ ‘What did they look like?’ Well, they had dyed hair and sported a pair of glasses. They also had Yahtzee earrings. They were really cool lookin’. Regardless they caught my attention. We had a little chat, and then they left. “ Aidan explained.

That’s as far into detail as Aidan got when speaking about her. Truthfully he couldn’t say much more other than how confident and cocky she appeared to be.

After finishing his class on Monday, he scrambled to grab his things and head to the library. But this time, he had a specific gift for the girl who he didn’t know the name of. However, he thought the gift would be much better in her hands than his.

So, without a second thought, Aidan sat down at the same table and began notes. The sound of a bell ringing is what caught his attention. There she was. She was handing the librarian a stack of comic books.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The girl then proceeded to walk out of the door, and Aidan grabbed the gift to follow her.

“ Wait! “ He shouted as he left the library.

Y/n turned around to be met with the boy she met only days ago, “ Hello? “ The confident female chuckled, “ I- I saw you check in all those comic books and not getting any. May I ask why? “ Aidan queried out of breath.

“ Well, if you must know, I’m moving. It turns out Los Angeles isn’t the place for me. “ Y/n responded, her tone airy and light, “ O- Oh. Well, I wanted to give this to you. “ Aidan spoke, slightly disappointed at the news.

Y/n took the comic in his hand. It was the first issue of the Umbrella Academy, “ I love the thought, but I already have a copy. “ Y/n denied softly, “ Open it. “ Aidan replied.

Hesitating, she opened the comic. On the first page was a signature. Not just anyone’s signature. Gerard way’s signature. That had been her idol for years and the entire reason she was in the field of comic book illustrating.

“ D- Do you like it? “ Aidan asked nervously, “ How did you? And why? Stuff like this is valuable. “ Y/n said as thoughts ran past her head.

“ Well, I have the other copies signed at my apartment. I thought this would be much better in your hands. “ The male smiled, “ I hope you don’t mind, but I may have accidentally left a bookmark in there. “

Y/n shook her head, “ No problem. “

Y/n smiled and kissed his cheek. Aidan’s cheeks flushed a bright pink, and Y/n smiled as she clutched the comic close to her chest.

“ Y/n L/n. Remember it. “ Y/n winked as she walked away.

Aidan watched as she left him on the sidewalk dumbfounded, “ Oh, I’m so fucked. “ Aidan murmured, knowing he was wrapped around her finger.

#aidan gallagher x reader #aidan gallagher #aidan gallagher imagine #Aidan Gallagher x y/n #Aidan Gallagher x you #five hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x y/n #number five x reader

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frostedfaves · 4 years

Text

Repercussions (13)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Wesley performs at-home surgery on you, and Natasha and Wanda remind you who’s in charge from the other side of the world.

Warnings: dark themes, mentions of stitches, poorly written medical stuff, mild injury, implied nudity, smut 18+ ONLY (cyber sex, implied masturbation and overstimulation, sex toy use and penetration)

A/N: let’s not even talk about the fact that I fully intended on not ending another odd numbered chapter with smut and then did it anyway. but also feel free to thank me, as this is (possibly 👀) the last time I’ll be able to include any smut at all so...

Previous part

The ringing of a phone broke the silence of the room, and you groaned against the pillow when you realized it was your iPad. Adjusting the covers and rolling over to one of the nightstands, you attempted to wipe the sleepiness away from your eyes before answering the FaceTime call.

“Printsessa!”

You grinned as Natasha and Wanda appeared on the screen, waving and laughing a bit when they waved back with even bigger smiles.

“The most beautiful women in the world! I see that you’ve landed safely.”

“Yep. Just got in the safe house and this one couldn’t wait to see your face again.” Natasha teasingly nudged Wanda’s shoulder, chuckling when she rolled her eyes and pushed back. “But I’m thinking she’s not the only one missing a girlfriend. Is that my shirt?”

“And Wanda’s scrunchie.” You lifted your wrist for her to see and Wanda cooed at you.

“That’s adorable, baby. So how was yesterday? No trouble with Wesley, right?”

“It’s been incredible! We got to play our favorite card games and watch one of our old shows, and today he’s going to make my favorite omelette!”

“You have a favorite omelette?”

“Wes makes his just like my favorite diner in my hometown. I don’t know how he does it, but it’s amazing every time.” You shrugged, relaxing your shoulders as you exhaled in the form of a happy sigh. “I can’t thank you both enough for bringing him here.”

“We just want to see you happy, printsessa,” Natasha told you with a soft smile that faded as she yawned. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we should get some sleep before we need to get out there in the morning.”

“Wait!” Wanda cut in before you could respond, her lips forming a smirk. “Let us see you.”

You playfully rolled your eyes with a shake of your head before standing up and propping up the iPad against the lamp on the nightstand. Stepping back to bring your full form into the frame, you made a big show of slowly stripping away Natasha’s sleep shirt as they cheered, even louder once they realized you weren’t wearing underwear.

“I kind of regret this now,” Wanda sighed, and you laughed.

“At least you have someone! I just have a room full of fun stuff that I’m not even allowed to use,” you pouted.

“Maybe we’ll change that in a few days. Maybe,” Natasha emphasized when you gasped. “Okay pretty baby, we’ll call again soon.”

“Okay, love you!”

You hung up before either of them could respond, shifting over to Apple music and playing the most rated R and sexual playlist you could find, wanting them to assume you were thinking of them in the shower. You were also hoping it would set the mood, leading them to tire each other out and sleep longer.

You could barely hide the proud smile that appeared on your features when you found out through the bugging device that your plan worked.

“Hey, kiddo!” Wes called as you entered the kitchen, hugging you briefly.

“Hey. Is that what I think it is?”

“You mean the special breakfast you specifically requested and threatened me over?” He raised his eyebrow and faced you as you climbed onto the counter, both of you laughing after a moment. “So how’d it go? Sleeping yet?”

“Like babies. We can head down after we eat.”

The two of you made your way to the basement after breakfast, and you led Wesley to the game room first to give him an overly enthusiastic tour of the space, grateful when he caught on fast and played along. You then pulled him away from a pinball machine to bring him to the TV area, pushing him toward the couch as you grabbed the remote from the entertainment area.

“Can’t believe you dangled a pinball game in my face just to snatch it away,” he joked.

“We can go back, dummy. I just had to do that because they know I’m pretty attached to that part of the house,” you told him as you looked for a movie to distract yourself from what was coming, which wasn’t easy with Wesley pulling a satchel of tools from his oversized hoodie in your peripheral vision.

“I know this is not the easiest thing to do, but just relax. I brought some numbing cream to help with the pain.”

You leaned against the armrest of the couch to bring yourself in view of the camera, trying not to react to the coldness of the ointment and really attempting to hold it together when he got started on removing the tracker from your leg.

“Would it be easier to just amputate from the knee down?” you grunted, huffing out a breath when he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured.”

It felt like days passed as you gripped a pillow hard enough to break it to deal with the pain that wasn’t numbed, when your cousin finally broke the silence between the two of you.

“Okay, I’m done. How does it feel?”

“Painful,” you mumbled as you examined your stitched skin. “Damn, you’re good.”

“Thanks.”

Wesley handed you the tiny baggie holding the even smaller tracker, and you slid it in your pocket. He moved to get up and you stopped him.

“Where are you going? Let’s finish the movie.”

“Not ready to walk, are you?” You shook your head this time and he laughed.

When it ended, the two of you made your way back to the game room, choosing one of the racing games so you didn’t have to stand very long. After he beat you in a few races (quite easily, but you wouldn’t admit it to him), you made your way back upstairs to grab a football and head outside.

You were able to walk pretty normally and even lightly jog, but you were dying to relieve the burning patch of healing skin, so you staged a fall as quickly as you could without seeming suspicious. Wesley fussed over you appropriately, helping you into the house to the point of halfway carrying you, and you sighed in relief when you finally got an ice pack on your ankle.

“I’ve never seen someone so happy to fall.”

“Shut up.”

It was nearing midnight when you heard from your girlfriends again, being sure to hold an excited smile on your features as you answered the call.

“Good morning! Or is it afternoon?”

“Late afternoon going into early evening but who cares?” Wanda shrugged with a little laugh.

“What are you doing up so late, printsessa?”

“It’s only 11:58,” you replied after checking the time. “And I was hoping you’d call tonight.”

Natasha frowned at the sight of your pout. “Did something happen with Wesley?”

“Yes, but it’s not his fault. I fell in the yard and hurt my ankle, but he helped me inside and keep ice on it all day. He even helped me up here so I didn’t have to strain much on the stairs.”

“Oh baby, you gotta be careful.”

“I know, Wan, I’m sorry.” Your eyes watered a bit while your pout stayed. “I feel a lot better, though! I just wish it didn’t happen. I have so much energy right now and nothing to do with it.”

You frowned when Natasha and Wanda shared a prolonged look, sighing a little so they’d turn their attention back to you. Wanda offered you a smile while Natasha seemed to be doing something in her lap, and she nodded at Wanda before turning to face you again.

“What’s going on?”

“We think we have a way for you to burn all that energy,” Natasha told you while Wanda sat beside her looking like a kid in a candy store. “Check the nightstand on your right.”

You moved over to investigate, pulling the drawer open and frowned when you only spotted a small key, picking it up with a curious gaze.

“It’s just a...wait.” You picked up the iPad with wide eyes. “Is this to the special room?”

Natasha nodded and you squealed in excitement, jumping to your feet and making sure to wince a bit when your left foot made contact with the carpet.

“Careful baby, please!” Wanda begged. “You’re going to give us a heart attack.”

“Sorry!”

You made your way down the hall and unlocked the door, stepping in and closing and locking the door behind you as they instructed. The iPad was placed in their preferred spot so they could watch you strip again before telling you exactly what to pick out. Their object of choice was a big, sparkly dildo meant to be attached to a flat surface, the headboard of a king sized bed in this case.

“This one is kinda big,” you remarked as you knelt beside the dildo to examine the length.

“But baby,” Natasha began with a falsely sweet tone that you’d grown accustomed to hearing in the bedroom, one that had you squeezing your thighs together immediately. “Don’t you want to be good for us?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good girls listen. Are you a good girl?”

“Yes, Natty.”

“Then you can take it.”

You took a deep breath and positioned yourself, reaching for your clit between your parted legs and trying not to gasp in reaction to what you felt.

“You’re already soaked, aren’t you baby?”

You nodded and closed your eyes as you kept working your middle finger across the sensitive nub, slowly backing up onto the erect length and whimpering as it filled you up.

“That’s it, baby,” Wanda called out breathily, and you didn’t even need to raise your head to know she was touching herself, as was Natasha. “You’re so good at this.”

You paused for a moment when your ass bumped into the headboard, giving yourself time to adjust to being stretched open like this on your own. Pulling your hand away to rest both of them on the bed in front of you for support, you glanced at the iPad to see both of them watching you, and you stifled the moan that left you when you realized they were getting each other off.

“Like what you see, baby?” You nodded in response, your eyes glued to their crossed arms just barely moving. “Then get going, or we’ll turn the camera off.”

You began to move your hips in a slow back-and-forth motion, hissing and moaning each time the toy hit a spot that one of your girlfriends usually got for you.

“Faster.”

You obeyed immediately, gradually speeding up to a pace that had the bed shaking a bit under your movements, but you couldn’t find it in you to care about the safety of it all when you were this close to the edge. Your climax came faster than you expected and you managed to keep somewhat of a rhythm through it, slumping forward and panting as you came down.

“Again.” You looked to the screen in disbelief, biting your lip when you noticed Wanda’s head thrown back, her hands holding onto Natasha’s arm that seemed to move much faster now. “I didn’t stutter. Fuck yourself again.”

So you did, and another time and another time until you finally tapped out, sliding away from the toy and falling forward onto the bed. You lifted your head to see your fully naked girlfriends smiling at you, each of them a bit flushed from their own activity as they watched you.

“You were such a good girl tonight,” Wanda praised, smiling when you simply whimpered in response. “I can’t wait to get back there and fuck you myself.”

“Goodnight, baby. We love you.”

The call ended as you rolled onto your back to catch your breath for a moment. When your legs were no longer shaking uncontrollably, you stood up the best you could and grabbed the dildo after slipping on a robe, dropping it onto your pile of clothes as you grabbed that too. Once you were back in the shared room and the toy was cleaned, you slipped it into the bag you’d hidden in the closet. You were going to miss sex with them, and something had to take their place.

Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @creepingwolfberry @bebe404 @seventeen0 @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @becka107 @muted-stoneheart @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @wannabe-fic-reader @messuhp @mjaudrey @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @fayhar @trikruismybitch @sxphiaswitch @beforeoursecrets @want-to-watch-it-burn @just-a-normalpersons @multi-images @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @haiiiloeee2 @darkangelxoxo @sakurat123

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inthehytes · 2 years

Note

Hi baby I’m sorry you’re dying at work can we talk about how perfect and lovely you are? Also can we talk about your top 10 favorite things rn?

I’m late to answer this because I suck butttttt

1. You duh 💗

2. My Will Pill

3. My new folder for work

4. Drag race france duh

5. The IPad I’m dreaming of 🥹

6. Uncrustables

7. The color yellow

9. The color of my walls

10. My cleo cat earrings/everything from the birthday box 🥹🥹🥹 especially my Emotional Support Hoodie

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elizabeethan · 4 years

Text

Keeping It Professional

Please enjoy this dialogue-heavy fluff-fest, in which Emma and Killian work together on a popular TV show, and Emma is just trying to keep things professional.

Rated T

~3200 words

Summary: Join us this Thursday with Emma Nolan, the star of the hit show, Neverland! Emma plays Emma Swan, a mom who's trying to get her son back from Neverland, but Peter Pan is not who you'd expect. We'll discuss a new season, the upcoming finale, and, of course, her on and off screen relationships with her costars! You won't want to miss this one!

In which Emma Nolan hates interviews.

A/N: Oh hi, I wrote this while I was being no-showed. I have no idea what it is.

see other stuff that i’ve written on Ao3 or tumblr

The ostentatious applause and blinding lights are things that Emma Nolan has grown accustomed to over the years. The show has been on for four seasons, having just been picked up for a fifth, and it’s grown in popularity during that time.

“It must be interesting playing a character with your same name.”

“Definitely. No one ever has an excuse to get my name wrong on set,” she laughs lightly, drawing similar sounds from the audience.

“Right! And I’m sure it much be interesting, working with your brother?”

“Oh, yeah. David’s a great actor, and he’s also my best friend. It’s a blast.”

“Now, at the end of last season, we found out that Baelfire was actually alive!” The audience cheers. “How’s that for a turn of events?”

“Oh, I know. Crazy right? We’ll have to see how it will impact everyone’s relationship with Henry.”

“Not to mention Emma’s relationship with Hook, right?”

The audience whoops and hollers, and Emma smiles. “I guess we’ll have to see!”

“Now, Emma, everyone is dying to know. The chemistry between you and Killian… there’s got to be something there, right?”

Emma loves to act— and she’s damn good at it. She loves the show she’s been a part of for almost five years now. She even doesn’t mind doing interviews, usually. What she does mind, however, is how everyone and their mother assumes she’s sleeping with her costars.

Emma fakes a laugh— she’s a good actor, remember? — and lets her eyes light up and a grin split her face, saying jokingly, “I’m a really good actor.”

The audience laughs, as does the interviewer, reaching between their chairs and touching Emma’s knee lightly. “You're too much! But come one—you and Killian? You and Neal?”

Okay, she hates interviews.

Emma shakes her head, trying her hardest to maintain an air of light and playfulness rather than rolling her eyes like she so badly wanted to. “Just keeping it professional, you know?”

“Well, Emma Swan has had some steamy moments with both Baelfire and Hook, so I think the audience would agree when I say we want to know who the better kisser is! Both of them are so delicious!” The audience doesn’t cheer; screams violently is more like it. Emma tries to laugh it off, but seriously? How is this question even allowed to be asked?

“Uh,” she starts awkwardly before she snaps herself back into interview mode and smiles again. “No comment,” she says with a smirk and a flirt in her tone.

“Oh, come on!”

She hates interviews.

“We’re all good friends. We’re just trying to keep it professional so that we can continue to work together.”

“Well, your brother David and Mary Margaret got married last year and they seem to work together well.”

Emma’s left eye starts to twitch, and she’s glad that it isn’t the side of her facing the audience. Let it go, lady, she thinks. “I’m so happy for them—they're great together, aren’t they?” The audience cheers again. “I’m really glad they were able to work things out between them. They’ve always had a thing for each other, and their relationship is so strong both on and off screen that it just worked out.”

“Are you saying you don’t have a strong relationship with Killian or Neal?”

“No, no, it isn’t that. I guess I’d just rather put my professional relationship with them over any of my own wishes.”

The interviewer smirks, and shit. “So, you do wish to be with one of them?” Oh my god, she thinks. Yes, but leave me the hell alone about it.

She starts to panic, thinking about what Killian would say in response, how he would tease her for anything that comes out of her mouth. Then she starts thinking about his mouth, then his eyes and his cute nose and his weird, charming ears, and her heart starts racing and her palms start sweating, and she has to get herself under control, dammit!

“All I want is for people to continue to love the show, and if my on-screen chemistry with my costars assists in that, then I’m happy.” Phew, take that, Kelly. Emma is a professional actor, thank you very much.

“Alright, alright, we can’t get anything out of her today, guys, sorry. Emma Nolan is the star on the hit series Neverland, which portrays Peter Pan in a very new light; catch up online or before the new episodes air every Sunday at 8 pm!”

The audience shouts again, and they're finally given the cue that the cameras are off as the lights dim, and Emma stands from the chair she was perched on and starts to unhook her mic from her top.

“Thank you for coming in today, Emma! It was so lovely having you.”

“It was great being here, Kelly, thank you.”

Emma practically runs from the stage once she’s cleared to do so, making her way down dark, winding hallways until she reaches the dressing room with her name printed on it. She shuts the door firmly behind her and presses her back to it, taking a deep breath and sliding down to the floor with her face in her hands. She tries deep breathing, but she finds it nearly impossible to get any air in.

Her phone chimes, alerting her to the message she’s received, and she attempts to pull herself together so that she can stand and grab it.

Nice one, Swan

She rolls her eyes at the moniker Killian has given her, but she can’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. Knowing that he must’ve been watching her interview from his own dressing room across the building makes her heart rate pick up. Knowing that he must know how nervous she is, because she hates interviews, makes her cheeks go rosy.

i hate interviews.

I know. You did great, love. Very professional.

yeah, well. don’t let kelly bully you next week like she did me. go get em, tiger.

No matter her mood, she can’t stop herself from flirting with him, and it’s seriously a problem. They can’t be doing this, and she knows it.

~~~~

“Hey Nolan,” she hears with a knock on her trailer door as it swings open.

“Hi Neal, what’s up?”

He smiles at her sweetly and gestures into her trailer. “Can I come in for a second?”

Emma nods, nodding her head towards the small couch. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“Just wanted to say, I saw your interview with Kelly. You did really well.”

She smiles at him sweetly as she takes a seat on a chair across the small trailer from him. “Thanks. She was persistent, huh?” Did she mention that she really hates interviews?

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Okay…” She’s hesitant to speak now, not wanting to push him in either direction, but honestly nervous for what’s about to come out of his mouth.

“I was just thinking… well, I like you, Emma. Not just as a costar or friend. I think you're cool and funny and pretty, and I was just thinking… well, everyone already thinks— I mean, I know you said you want to keep everything professional, but we can date and still be professional, right?”

“Neal…”

“Go to dinner with me. Just once. I really think we could have something great here.”

She shakes her head, her heart racing again as anxiety sets in. “I can’t. I’m sorry Neal, I just… I can’t.”

He nods, smiling at her again, and thank god he isn’t as much of an asshole in real life as she thinks his character is. “I get it, it’s alright.”

“I just want to keep everything professional. We work together…”

“Right, I know. So, it isn’t because of Jones?”

“What about Killian?” She screws her face as much as she can manage, but panics as she fears that he knows.

“You guys just have chemistry, too, that’s all. I wasn’t sure if you were together or something.”

He doesn’t know, she reminds herself, breathing in deeply in an attempt to relax. “I want to keep everything—”

“Professional, I know. No worries, Em.” He smiles once more, standing up and squeezing her shoulder before he heads out the door.

~~~~

“So, what’s it like working with your ex?” The audience reacts excitedly as Kelly presses, perhaps making it her mission to ask the most uncomfortable questions she possibly can.

“Oh, it’s alright. Milah and I are in a good place. We were together so long ago, and we’re both adults, so we’re able to keep things professional.” Emma nods at her screen, biting her thumb nervously as Killian gets grilled once again.

“That’s so amazing, isn’t it, guys?” The audience cheers. “Now last week’s episode was just… so heartbreaking. I’d love to get into that a bit with you.”

“Yeah,” he nods, and the audience aws collectively. “It was a really tough one to shoot. I don’t want to give much away, but the last scene with Hook and Emma was very emotional.”

“For the characters, or for you and Emma?”

“Both, I’d say.”

Kelly nods somberly as the audience aws again. “It looked it. I heard a rumor that the kiss Hook planted on Emma’s forehead when the rowboat was leaving the island was unscripted. Is that true?”

The audience gets excited, and Emma loses her thumb nail to her front teeth. “Yeah, actually. That scene in particular was really, really emotional. Can I drop spoilers?”

“Anyone who hasn’t seen the season finale yet is out of their mind. Drop away!”

He laughs blithely, the light in his eyes shining brightly through her iPad screen. “Well, Pan had put Emma in an impossible situation. She had to choose between getting Henry out of Neverland without a sleeping curse, or risk never waking him up and leaving Hook behind. I think it’s clear by the season finale that Emma has feelings for Hook, so that decision was really difficult for her. That final scene between the two of them… well, it was emotional for Hook too, because his feelings for Emma are obvious.” The audience cheers again.

“Super obvious. I mean, the chemistry between the two of you…”

“Right,” he quickly brushes her comment off. “So, we shot that scene at, like, 3 in the morning. It was freezing, it was raining, we were tired, and we don’t really know what the writers have in store for the next season. So, I guess my emotions got the better of me, and Hook and Emma— Swan, that is— finally had that moment when feelings were admitted—”

More screaming, as Killian refers to the steamy make out scene that aired last week. “Oh, we remember!” Kelly shouts over the audience.

He laughs again, a blush rising over the tips of his adorably pointy ears as he continues. “So, yeah, shooting the final scene between the two of them, where Emma needs to leave Hook on the island to ensure Henry’s safety, it was really difficult because there was finally a chance for them, and that chance got ripped away and we don’t know what’s going to happen to Hook. And like I said, it was cold and late, and I guess that just got the better of me, so I went with it.”

“Well, I think I can say with confidence that the viewers are glad that you went with it. I mean, how sweet was that, Hook kissing Emma’s forehead so softly? It was adorable!” Even more screaming, and Emma thinks she can see Killian cringing just the slightest bit.

“Yeah,” he says softly, still blushing. Emma wants nothing more than to reach through the screen and grab him to plant a big fat kiss on his cheeks.

“It only works so well because of the chemistry between you and your costar, Emma Nolan.”

He nods, blush permanent on his features. “We’re close.”

“Any chance we could see the two of you as more than friends off screen?” Kelly’s smirking, and she audience goes absolutely insane and threatens to blow out Emma’s headphones.

“Not sure that you’ll ever see that. We’re just keeping things professional, Kelly. She and I are costars, first and foremost.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll back off,” she laughs, as does the audience. Killian’s is discernibly fake.

By the time the interview ends, Emma’s face is as red as she imagines Killian’s to be. She puts her iPad away and lies on the couch, covering her eyes with her arm and trying hard to relax before she has to go out on set. The season finale aired, and they’ve already started shooting for season five, which requires even more chemistry between Emma Swan and Captain Hook.

The polls don’t lie; the viewers were absolutely obsessed with Emma and Hook’s relationship. Captain Swan started trending internationally after the finale, when the writers made it clear that the relationship between Emma and Hook was beyond just physical. Of course, what helped that along was Killian’s accidental smooch to Emma’s face during shooting.

What was an accident born from emotional exhaustion ended up being edited into the scene, driving the nation crazy once it aired and absolutely blowing up both Emma and Killian’s social media accounts. Not only were fans of the show obsessing over Captain Swan, but they were now also suspecting that Emma and Killian were an item. Emillian was trending as well, and Emma couldn’t help but cringe each time she was tagged in a Tweet or an Instagram fan edit.

The thumps on her trailer door finally drag her out of her own head, and she shouts for the knocker to enter.

“Hi, love,” he says, making her heart race before she even saw his face.

“Hey.” She sits up from her position on the couch as he takes a seat on the chair across the trailer.

“Did you see it?” She nods. She wasn’t able to watch him shoot the interview live as he was when she was on the show, so she had to watch it when it aired along with the rest of the country.

“You always handle those questions well.”

“It’s getting a bit insane, though.” She nods in return, agreeing that the questions they're asked about their relationshipare becoming intrusive. “Milah talked to me just now.”

“Did she?”

“Aye, she congratulated me on the interview and the finale. Said my costume looked great.”

“I would hope so; she designed in.”

He chuckles, standing from the chair and taking a seat on the couch next to her. “She asked me to dinner.”

“Oh,” Emma responds, her heart falling into her stomach. “What, uh, what did you say?”

“I said my girlfriend probably wouldn’t like that.”

She stares at him, eyes wide, and is tempted to whack him across the chest. “No, you didn’t!”

He laughs, jumping playfully away from her as she does swat at him. “No, I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

“Killian,” she sighs, flopping her body down on the couch and covering her face with her arm again. “We can’t. What if something goes wrong and it messes with our on-screen relationship? Are you willing to risk your job over this?”

“Yes,” he deadpans at her, and when she moves her arm and looks at his face, she knows he’s serious.

“Killian—”

“I am. I’m in love with you. I'm tired of hiding it.”

Her face falls, her heart beating frantically and her chest burning. “I love you, too, but…”

“What are you so afraid of? That we won’t work out? Love, we’ve been together for almost two years. This is very Emma Swan behavior that you're displaying.” She laughs at his reference to her character’s emotional constipation and leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… I’ve never done this before.”

He kisses the top of her head gently before speaking. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I’m pushing you. We can wait. Just know that I love you and I’m all in. I know you're nervous that we might not work out, or that it would impact our jobs, but… I believe in us. I know we’re stronger than that. And I’ll wait as long as you wish for me to until you believe that, too.”

Dammit, she thinks. How could she not have fallen for him immediately after meeting him? She sighs against him and hoists herself up off the couch before planting herself on his lap, her legs straddling his and her face finding its usual spot in his neck. “I love you,” she says softly into his skin.

“I love you, Emma.” His arms run up and down her back, soothing and warming her simultaneously. “I’ve loved you since the moment I met you when I joined the show. I’ll never stop loving you.”

“Do you think we can still keep it professional if everyone knows we’re dating?”

“Aye,” he nods, and she can feel his chin scraping against the top of her head. “But I also think that a lot of people already suspect that we’re together, ever since my royal screw up on set.”

“That wasn’t so bad. I liked it.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and in her ear. “Not very professional, though.”

“Is it professional to seduce your costar in your trailer an hour before shooting?” she asks boldly, pressing her nose into his neck below his ear and tracing his pulse point with her tongue.

He’s growling, and the sound goes straight to her core as his firm hands find her backside and squeeze. “No, it’s not. But that hasn’t stopped you before.”

“It’s not going to stop me now, either.”

~~~~

“We should come clean,” she whispers into the air between them once she catches her breath. The couch wasn’t quite big enough for cuddling, but they do their best, with Emma’s back pressed into the back of the couch and Killian’s bare, fuzzy butt dangerously facing the door.

“You think? Are you ready for that?”

She shrugs. “Just… you're right. I want this with you. I'm in it for the long haul. I don’t know what I’m so afraid of.”

“It makes sense to be afraid, love. We don’t know how going public might impact our relationship.”

“Yeah, but… we are stronger than that. We’re stronger than whatever the fans or critics can throw at us. I love you, and I want to be with you.”

He’s grinning as he brushes his nose against hers before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “You're sure?”

She nods. “I’m sure.”

~~~~

They wait until season five is about to air before posting an Instagram photo of Killian kissing Emma’s temple with the captain #Emillian. It trends for weeks. Views and ratings for the show skyrocket. Emma and Killian started attending interviews together, and she finds them to be pretty tolerable.

~~~~

i’m just tagging people who have been nice to me:

@courtorderedcake @shireness-says @kmomof4 @gingerpolyglot @klynn-stormz @tohellwiththepancakes13 @emelizabeth88 @captain-emmajones @onceratheart18 @stahlop @itsfabianadocarmo @superchocovian @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones

Please let me know if you're interested in being tagged in other stuff that I write--or if me tagging you is annoying and you want me to stop!

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Devoted: Stream (Katlaska) - Kamylove

Sixth in my collection of unrelated one-shot ficlets. This time with Covid!

Young, untreated, self-medicating Katya was an introvert whose greatest fear was embarrassing herself.

Sober, almost-38-year-old Katya is an extroverted introvert who embarrasses herself daily and whose love language (and she only knows this thanks to Trixie the romantic, honest) is touch, and whose attention span is shorter than a ferret's.

Self-quarantine is killing her.

She was in Europe when shit started going to hell. She got out just in time, flew home to have her temperature taken at LAX, and was told to lock herself up for two weeks before she could see another human being.

It sucks.

Other queens (including Alaska, damn her) are doing Instagram lives, dragging up for shows on Twitch, collecting tips on Venmo and Paypal. Katya's ADD ass can't get herself together to unpack, let alone do her job virtually, but she still craves the attention.

Worst of all, Alaska is quarantining somewhere else. Somewhere Katya can't go. Somewhere that is not their house.

Alaska was home in LA when it happened, the lucky bitch. Alaska is a hypochondriac who would lose her mind if she had to shelter in place all alone, and Katya didn’t want to risk infecting her or the staff of a hotel. So Alaska, after much convincing, had decamped to the house she used to share with her best friend.

She's facetiming Katya every day, several many times a day, and dropping off care packages on the front steps. But Alaska needs drag to stay sane, so she's up in everyone's Insta, writing new damn songs for digital drag shows, agreeing to another and another and another show every hour. Or that's what it feels like to Katya.

Trixie's up on Insta, too, and Twitch. Trixie's doing live performances from her condo. PEG was even smart enough to invite Fena to do a digital show, which is fierce and fabulous because Fena is fierce and fabulous and Katya loves her like a brother.

But Katya's still got all those emails and voicemails sitting untouched on her phone. You'd think she'd be dying for any variety of human contact, and she is, but the thought of being productive right now is just too much.

Oh, look, there's Alaska on her friend's live again. There's Alaska laughing and being adorable and sharing space with--actually sitting next to--a human.

Katya loses all self-control and comments, "Bitch I am losing my self-quarantined mind STFU and call me."

And she does it from her public account, like an idiot.

The host of the live squints at the screen. "Oh, honey, your favorite Russian spy is stir crazy. We love you, Katya."

"Aww, Katya," Alaska's former-slash-temporary housemate says. "We miss you, gurl."

"Katya's here?" Alaska says. Katya can see her scrolling up on her iPad screen, because she'd obviously missed Katya's comment. And it should not bother Katya that Alaska missed her comment, because she knows what comments on lives are like. She used to livestream her entire damn life.

"Oh, no," Alaska says, looking straight at the camera. “Poor Russian spy. I'll call you in a bit, okay?"

Other commenters have now caught on, unfortunately, because Katya is an idiot, and there's a swarm of comments about her. I love you Katya, hearts to Katya, and suddenly she's taken over the live and she feels awful about it. Like she needs to feel more awful.

She exits and texts Alaska, "I hate you all and please apologize for me for barging in. CALL ME."

She doesn't know what happens in the live after that, because she leaves her phone in the bedroom and goes to the kitchen to cheer up with some Skittles. Skittles make everything better, and she's almost out of them. Thank God for Postmates. And Alaska's care packages.

Alaska facetimes her just a couple minutes later. Katya rushes back to her phone.

"Don't fucking apologize," is the first thing Alaska says. She's retreated to her old bedroom, a space Katya is very familiar with, and is sitting under a window Katya recognizes. It's unreasonably annoying.

"I didn't want to make myself the center of attention," Katya says through a big mouthful of candy. “Sorry."

"You always want to be the center of attention," Alaska teases lightly.

"A drag queen with a pathological need to be on stage," Katya says. "Shocking."

"They all worried about you after you left. They miss you."

"Now I feel worse, so thanks for that."

"They love you. They love you even when they can't see you. Even my fans love you."

"Hahaha aren't you funny."

"But none of them love you as much as I love you."

Katya scowled. "Fuck off, making me feel better. I'm enjoying my miserly misery."

"I would like to remind you that I wanted to risk my life and stay home and bring you breakfast in bed every day, and you said no."

"Why the hell did you listen to me?"

"Hey," Alaska says with a gentler smile. "It's only six days before we can social distance together."

"Six days is forever."

"I've got to warn you, though, that when I get home, you are getting your wig on and getting on camera. I’ll paint you myself if I have to."

Katya doesn't have a rude answer to that, and she doesn't want to give a polite one. She pouts instead.

Alaska can read her pouts, though. This one doesn't mean, That's an awful idea, don't make me do it. It means,

Alaska laughs at the pout and says, "Let me set up something digital for you? I'll do all the legwork and you'll just have to show up. I know you miss the fans as much as they miss you."

"Point one," Katya says. "I, unlike you, do not enjoy getting all dragged up with no place to go."

"Point one,” Alaska counters. “Yes, you do. Point two, you would have a place to go!"

"Sitting on the couch with an iPhone camera does not count as a place to go. But point two, if I start Instagramming live I'll never stop, and we both know where that would lead."

"Embarrassing personal revelations and masturbating on camera?"

"Precisely."

"Oh!" Alaska brightens with an idea. “You know what the world really needs?"

"A vaccine and a new president?"

"An episode of UNHhhh with the two of you in your pajamas and full face! And I'm going to make it happen!”

It's another good idea Katya doesn't want to admit is good. "Don't make promises you can't keep, bitch," she says.

"I'll keep it. I'm drafting an email to World of Wonder right this second."

"You're not. I can see you."

"In my head. I'm drafting it in my head." Alaska produces a pen from somewhere and writes in the air. "Dear WOW, Katya's lost her mind and I know this is hard to believe, considering, but I think more UNHhhh will help her find it. Also, if you don't make her do something," which she underlines in the air with a flourish, "with all that talent, I'm never doing Bro'laska again. So there."

"Please. You’re never doing Bro'laska again anyway."

"I’ll never sign on to Werq the World?"

"As if a major recording star like yourself would sink that low in the year of our lord 2020. Face it, you have no leverage here. Maybe if you said you’d never make another appearance on Drag Race...”

"Oooh," Alaska says. "Buuuuurn."

Katya tells her to fuck off.

After she stops laughing, Alaska says, "Let's have dinner tonight."

“On Facetime? Like always?” It's something they often do when their schedules put them in different time zones.

"No, for real.”

“Still not looking to pass on my potential plague,” Katya says.

“I’m sure you’re not sick," which is what Alaska says every time the topic comes up. "But no, listen. I’ll bring takeout. Whatever you want. You sit inside the back door, and I'll sit out on the patio."

"Hmm," Katya says.

"At least I could see your gorgeous face without a camera or a window."

"At a socially safe distance of at least 10 feet. In case I drool. Which I might."

"Are we on, then?" Alaska asks.

"Anything I want? Would that include watching me jerk off?"

"I would absolutely love to watch you jerk off."

"Then it’s a date," Katya says. "As long as I still have enough Lysol to coat the entire patio."

#rpdr fanfiction #alaska thunderfuck #katya zamolodchikova #katlaska #fluff #canon compliant #ficlet #devoted #kamylove #tw covid

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highqueenofelfhame · 5 years

Note

Pining Rowan is my life. Rowan POV is my life. That flower shop AU is everything! We need a sequel. We need Rowan finally getting that date. We need Arlington dropping hints and Rowan finally asking her out. We need more!!! Love your writing!

HERE IS MORE. (ALSO thank you so much this is so sweet also lol at the typo arlington that my phone has corrected so many times esp. being from tx)

It was hard to not skip across the street with the flower pressed to her nose. Aelin had been crushing on the florist across the street from the first time she’d met him. Then, she had been a newly opened shop in Mistward, just outside of Doranelle. When she’d wandered in and asked for a bouquet of whatever, he’d stared at her curiously for a moment before making the bundle of flowers. They were always small things, ten dollars each. Rowan had no idea, but she kept them all pressed between the pages of books.

It was a lot of flowers. Aelin had a lot of books.

Once back in her shop, she flipped the neon sign so that it was flashing ‘open’ above the door and laid the flowers down on the front counter. She had a little vase just for these flowers she always purchased from Rowan, so she popped the single kingsflame he had offered her into it and put it on the corner of the counter. When she sat down, she took to drawing it first, carefully studying the lines of the flower, spending too much time coloring it in and working to accurately display the translucence in the petals. She was almost done with the door opened and the bell chimed.

“Hi,” she said, lifting her head from her iPad and doing a double-take when she found Rowan standing in the doorway. She had never seen him twice in one day, and he had never been to her shop before. Aelin sat back on her stool and watched as he walked around the lobby area, taking in all the art on the walls that had been painted all by her hand.

“You did all this?” He said after a while, and she nodded.

“It would be kind of lame if I didn’t display my actual artwork, wouldn’t it?”

“It wouldn’t give me much faith in you as an artist,” he teased. At least, she thought he was teasing. She smiled all the same.

“What can I help you with?”

“I was hoping for a consult. I have this thing drawn up, kind of, and I was hoping you could round out the edges and make it worth tattooing on my body somewhere.” He approached, pulling a half folded page from his back pocket and handing it over.

She laid it down on the counter and leaned over it, the tip of her apple pencil touching her lips while she took it in. Her eyes skimmed the design, the words hidden within, before she looked back up at him.

“It’s brutal, but beautiful. Such as the old language sounds when spoken,” she said finally. Rowan raised his brows a bit. “I can work with this.” Aelin walked out from behind the counter and pushed the sleeve of his t-shirt up his bicep, silently dying at the muscle under her fingertips. “We could blow it up and have it wrap around your whole arm. All the way down to your fingertips would be so cool but it would hurt. We could stop at the wrist. Whatever you want, but, yes. I can absolutely finish up the design for you.”

“I would love that.”

“I can swing by your shop when it’s finished?” She offered, shrugging one shoulder like it was no big deal, because it wasn’t. She was always eager to make it into his shop and it had been two weeks since she’d seen him before today.

“Sounds good,” he said, turning to leave. Rowan had just made it to the door when Aelin said his name and he paused, looking at her over his shoulder.

“I keep waiting for you to ask me out, and you keep not asking.”

“Do you want me to ask you out?” His accent curled around the words in such a lovely way, it made her heart race.

“I just said I’m waiting for it.” It was delivered so deadpanned that he let out a laugh, nodded once and turned the door handle.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” If it weren’t for the smile in his voice, she would be a little worried that she had overstepped a boundary. But when he turned to leave, she caught the way his lips were tugging up at the corners.

“I’d say take your time, but I wouldn’t mean it.” She could still see him smiling when he jogged back across the street.

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romantic-hero · 4 years

Text

by request.....Part 2 Isolation Ross and Demelza AU(repost...I deleted the first one...)

Ross was sitting at the dining table drinking his coffee and reading The Times on his iPad. He could see out the front window and the usually busy sidewalk was empty except for a woman walking her corgi, and a couple wearing face masks.

Ross stretched and yawned. Then he thought about Demelza and her unexpected sex crazed FaceTime seduction. God, he missed her! She was his everything. Life felt so empty without her. His attention returned to the horror articles about the virus, when he heard the door from the garage open. He jumped from his chair and grabbed the cricket bat from the closet. The thought that he wished he had on more than his underpants flitted through his mind as, with racing heart, he raised the bat over his shoulder as the swinging kitchen door opened.

“Demelza! My god!” Ross yelled. He put the bat down and stared at his wife. “What in God’s name are you doing here?”

Demelza’s face turned from the shock at seeing Ross about to hit her with a cricket bat, to one of sheer joy at being home with Ross standing in front of her with his hair all crazy bedhead curls and in nothing except her favorite pair of his blue boxer briefs.

“Ross, I had to be with you. I couldn’t take another minute until I could touch you,” Demelza explained as she set her bag down. “Now don’t worry. We’ve seen no one in the last two weeks. Caroline has food delivered. We wipe it down and wash all the fruits and vegetables. Prudie sanitized the car, I took a shower and washed my hair. I didn’t kiss or hug anyone good bye and I drove straight here. I didn’t even stop once. I haven’t been to the toilet in five hours!” And with that announcement, she ran back to the kitchen and Ross heard the door to the downstairs loo bang open, then shut.

Ross followed her and stood by the sink. First he heard the toilet flush then the sound of running water as Demelza hummed Happy Birthday. “Use the paper towels,” he called to her. He admired her loveliness as she came back into the kitchen.

“What about the children.” Ross wanted to know.

“Jeremy of course wanted to come with me but Clowance and Sophie and Meliora begged him to stay. I told them I’d be back in a few days. Oh, Ross don’t be angry! I just had to see you.” Demelza looked like she might cry. “I washed all my clothes, even my shoes. I stepped into the car and got out in our garage...”

“My love, you don’t know how glad I am that you are here.” Ross stepped towards her. “Can we hug? I haven’t had a shower today, but I haven’t seen anyone but Dwight since you left. We meet in the park and run. We keep two meters apart.” Ross knew he was babbling but he couldn’t stop. “I swear I’m clean.” He raised his arms as if he would pull her close, then dropped them uncertainly.

Demelza smiled. She took off her jacket and dropped it on the floor. Then she kicked off her trainers and pulled her tee shirt off and flung it at Ross. She turned and started up the stairs. “Race you to the shower!” she challenged him with a backward glance and took off.

“No contest!” he yelled and Ross was right behind her. Demelza was laughing as she turned on the water and as the steam rose, she took off her leggings and sports bra as Ross hopped on one foot trying to free his foot from the leg of his underpants. Demelza jumped into the shower and Ross hurried in.

(Warning! 😏)

“Let’s soap up first,” Demelza suggested. “Though I’m dying to kiss you.”

She took the bottle of the Jo Malone lime and basil body wash and poured some in Ross’s hand. Then she filled her own palm. “Come here, my lover.” And Ross obediently came closer.

Demelza rubbed her hands together and when she had quite a bit of foam placed her hands on Ross’s very hairy, muscular chest and started lathering him up. Ross reached for her at last and his hands massaged her pert derrière with the fagrant body wash. Demelza moved to his shoulders and then down his back. “Turn around,” she ordered and she but her lip as she washed his back and moved down to his ass. God, she loved his rear. Round and tight and covered with a light dusting of black hair, she made sure it was very clean. Then she washed his legs and when he turned around she laughed. “Oh, Ross!” For her husband was very aroused and she had never once in 13 years of marriage not marveled at the beauty of his manhood.

“Demelza, come here.” She stepped up obediently and stood with her hands on Ross’s hips as he started his own meticulous washing of his wife’s creamy white breasts. She moaned a little when his hand slipped down between her legs and then he turned her so he could wash her backside.

“Ross, I think we should wash our hair,” said Demelza and soon his fingers massaged her scalp making huge amounts of lather whilst Demelza made quick work of his short ringlets. Then they rinsed each other off, throughly. The hot water falling in drops down from the rainfall shower head that Demelza had insisted on.

“Are we clean enough?” asked Ross.

“I do believe so,” answered Demelza and she raised her lips to his and kissed him as hard and passionately as she had the first time they had made love. His mouth devoted hers. His tongue searching and exploring while his arms held her tight.

Her hand found him hard and ready and her fingers felt the length of him.

She pushed him back until his knees hit the marble shower bench and he sat. Demelza opened the shower door and fumbled to opened a drawer. Then she handed Ross the Lelo bottle of personal lubrication. He looked up at her, his liquid brown eyes searching her face, a sexy little smile played at his lips while he poured a little lube in his hand then applied it. Demelza held his gaze as she fondled her breasts. When Ross was ready, Demelza straddled his lap and slowly lowered herself on him.

“Oh God, Ross,” she moaned loudly. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and as his hands gripped her hips helping her balance, she rode him up and down at first fast and furiously until she felt she might reach her climax.

“Slow down, babe,” Ross whispered. “We have time.” He lowered his head and caught one pink nipple with his lips and started sucking while his tongue teased mercilessly.

Demelza arched her back and held Ross’s head while his attentions brought her closer to the brink of no return.

The gentle warm rain of the shower added to the sensuousness of the moment and then Demelza heard that growl in the back of her husband’s throat that she knew meant he was about to reach his own peak of satisfaction.

“Harder, Ross, please,” Demelza moaned and Ross obliged trusting upward as she pushed down on him wanting him to fill her completely.

“Is it good, Demelza,” he demanded,

“Yes, Ross!”

“Say it again, Demelza!” He ordered, his deep baritone turning her on more than she imagined possible. He gave her ass a gentle slap. “Tell me!”

“Yes, darling, yes!” Demelza was panting as she begged her husband to bring her to her release and as she felt him tremble inside her she knew he was ready and so they both let go at once in a marvelous simultaneous explosion.

Ross held her as she caught her breath, his own starting to calm.

When she was quiet, Demelza got up and turned off the water. Then she stepped out of the shower and got two towels and handed one to Ross. They dried off and Demelza wrapped a rapid dry hair turban around her wet head and they went into their bedroom and laid down.

“Ross, can’t you come back to Cornwall with me? “ Demelza asked as she cuddled up next to Ross and put her arm around him.

“My love, I can’t. Dwight is lost without Caroline and the girls.” Ross pulled Demelza close. “The situation at the hospital is dire. I search the Internet constantly for the supplies they need. I’m at his beck and call. Maybe you could stay a few days. Prudie is with the children.” Ross looked at Demelza.

“Let’s talk about it later,” Demelza said. “Maybe I can go with you this evening to see Dwight.”

Ross kissed the side of her face. “Dwight will like that.”

They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. The future so uncertain, but their love the one true constant they could depend on.

#poldark fanfic #poldark #ross poldark #demelza poldark

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sydneywritespursuedbyabear · 4 years

Text

The Casualties of Croissants

Trigger Warnings -- also tagged: gore, gunshots, surgeries, hospitals, death in the family, ptsd symptoms

This is a standalone piece.

Word Count: 5176

“Shhhhhhhhh. It’s okay. I’m right here.” I wrap my arms around Dessi, avoiding the bloodstains on her grey and white raglan t-shirt. “I’ve called 911, EMS is on their way. You are going to be okay.”

Despite my efforts, Dessi seems to disagree. She moaned in pain and tugged at her shirt. I rotate her arm to examine the blood-spattered hole in her left sleeve beneath her elbow. I lift her arm up to check the bottom. There is no exit wound. As I return Dessi’s arm to a resting position, more blood oozes onto her grey sleeves and onto my hand. I help her lean against the brick wall of the bakery we were in not even five minutes ago.

“I’ll be right back. Stay down,” I whisper, knowing full well that she couldn’t even move if she wanted to.

I survey the surrounding area. No one else is hurt, and the bakery is still open. I burst through the bakery’s glass door, frantic. “Do you have scissors?” I ask.

The front attending obviously notices the blood on my hands because he hesitates. I don’t have this kind of time.

“Please,” I plead, “my friend was shot, and I need to cut her clothing away from the wound and create pressure on the wound.”

The attending turns around. I hear the rustling of assorted metal and plastic objects as he sorts through a tools drawer. He hands me a pair of kids’ scissors. “Have you called 911?”

“Yes. They’re about 5 to 10 minutes out. Thank you so much!” I dart back out the glass door I had burst through only 30 seconds ago and run back to Dessi.

I take a quick look at the wound to double-check that her sleeve has not become entangled in any of her insides. The grey fabric of her sleeve is not caught on anything, just stained a dark crimson. “Okay, Dessi,” I say, trying to keep my voice as level as possible, “I’m going to cut your sleeve off. Let me know if anything hurts.”

“My arm,” she immediately moans back.

“I know,” I say, taking the scissors to the seam of her sleeve. I cut all the way around the seam before slicing the sleeve straight down the back. I carefully lift the blood-stained fabric away from the rich brown skin of her arm. “Dessi, I’m going to apply some pressure to your arm. This might hurt.”

“Hope, I -- ow!”

“All done,” I reassure her as I create a second, securing knot over the grey and crimson band on her arm. “Hey, Dessi, can you count out a minute for me?”

“I can try,” she manages.

I press my fingers into the warm skin of her forearm, searching for her radial pulse. I find it on the lower outside of her wrist. “Alright, Dessi, you can start counting,” I prompt. Each rapid beat of Dessi’s heart sends a powerful wave through her body. I am no doctor, but I can tell that her pulse is definitely elevated.

“Time,” Dessi mutters weakly. She bows her head in pain and exhaustion. 102 beats per minute. That heart rate is not going to help her at all.

I shift to be crouching right in front of her. “Dessi, look at me. We are going to take some deep breaths, okay?” I hear the faint screaming of sirens in the distance. “They’re almost here. For now, in through your nose--” I make an audible nasal inhalation. “Out through your mouth.” I let out a loud exhale.

Dessi does not move. I bring my hand up to her chin and tilt her so her brown eyes meet mine. “Hear that?” I ask her, referencing the growing din of ambulance sirens.

The sirens come to a climax as the ambulance pulls up to the curb in front of us.

Two EMTs jump out of the back of the ambulance. The one with short blonde-dyed-blue hair introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Frank, and this is my partner in anti-crime, Jocelyn.” He motions toward the ambulance, where Jocelyn’s bobbing ponytail emerges with a stretcher.

“Alright, young lady,” Frank says to Dessi, “We are going to need to get you on that stretcher. We have two options: we can lift you up there, or we can lower the stretcher all the way down and you can climb onto it. Do you think you can stand?” Dessi shakes her head. Frank turns to me. “Jocelyn is going to help me get your friend here onto the stretcher so we can get her to the hospital. It’s your job to make her feel safe so this transition can be as quick and easy as possible. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

Jocelyn parks the stretcher right next to Dessi. She lowers it until the bed is at about knee level. Jocelyn and Frank crouch down beside Dessi and place their arms under her to support her knees and back.

“Ready?” Jocelyn asks.

I nod. I lock eyes with Dessi. “It’s going to be okay,” I mouth.

“One, two, three,” Frank commands. He and Jocelyn stand up on three. Their feet trace rapidly across the pavement as they carry Dessi to the stretcher.

“All done,” Jocelyn says after she and Frank have slid their arms out from under Dessi. Jocelyn leans over Dessi’s left arm and examines my makeshift bandage. “How long ago was the incident?” she asks.

“7 minutes-ish,” I respond. “I wasn’t able to find any exit wounds when I patched up Dessi’s arm.”

Jocelyn nods as if making a mental note of this new info. “Dessi?” she probes tentatively.

Dessi slowly lifts her head until her eyes meet Jocelyn’s.

“How are you feeling?” Jocelyn asks.

“Well, my arm hurts,” Dessi says flatly.

“Anything else bothering you?” Jocelyn presses. “Dizzy? Fatigued? Chest pain? Numbness anywhere?”

“Yes, yes, yes, no,” Dessi replies.

“Alright, let’s get her in,” Jocelyn commands as she uses her foot to unbrake the stretcher. She and Frank walk Dessi to the open back of the ambulance.

“Can I come?” I call out.

Frank shoots Jocelyn a permissive look. “You’re both minors, right?” I nod my head. “Then come on in,” Frank shouts at me.

I dash over to the ambulance and step up on the metal ledge to climb in. Frank closes the door behind me. He runs around the outside of the ambulance and hops into the driver’s seat.

I shift my gaze to Dessi. Jocelyn has already begun to measure Dessi’s vital signs. She swipes a thermometer across Dessi’s sweaty forehead. She slides a blue blood pressure cuff onto Dessi’s right arm. Jocelyn slips a pulse oximeter onto Dessi’s right index finger.

A monitor hanging above Dessi comes to life. Large numbers display her blood pressure. A wave rises and falls across the screen as Dessi’s heart beats. Jocelyn enters some information into an iPad that is sitting on the bench beside her. She looks up and goes, “Alright, girls, I need full names and dates of birth. Dessi, do you want to go first?”

“Desdemona Freedman,” Dessi says weakly. “Born September 17, 2003.”

“Good job,” Jocelyn praises as she lightly grasps Dessi’s hand. “And you?”

“Cassiopea Murphy,” I say. “And I was born--” I pause, unsure of what to say. “Um, I don’t have a birth certificate.”

“What does that mean?” Jocelyn questioned.

“I was a safe haven baby. I was left in a box in June of 2003 and was estimated to be 1 week old. No local hospitals had any birth certificates that could match my situation. My adoptive parents have been searching for it for years. All we know is that I’m 17 now.”

Frank pipes up from the driver’s seat. “Alright, ladies, we are about two minutes out. How are you holding up, Dessi?”

“Absolutely fantastic,” says a faint sarcastic voice. At least Dessi still has her sense of ironic humor.

Upon our arrival at the hospital, everything moves fast again. Frank jumps out of the front and races around back to open the doors. Meanwhile, Jocelyn unclips Dessi’s stretcher from the floor of the ambulance. Jocelyn wheels Dessi out the back, where Frank receives the stretcher and guides it to the ground. I leap out the back and tail the frantic parade.

Jocelyn and Frank shove through the swinging door entrance to the ER. They immediately start riling off info about Dessi.

“16-year-old female with a GSW in her lower left arm,” Frank announces to the room.

“BP holding steady at 89 over 54, pulse is at 120 and slowly rising,” Jocelyn adds.

An ER doctor rushes over to meet Dessi as she is moved towards the back of the room, where there is an empty bed. A blue hijab covers her hair and blends in with her faded scrubs. “How much blood has she lost?” the doctor inquires.

“Less than a pint probably,” Jocelyn replies, “there wasn’t any blood on the ground when we picked her up, so it’s all in her clothes.” “Great. Let’s get some saline running and put her on a morphine drip.” The doctor orders. “Any exit wound?”

“Not that we could see,” Frank supplies.

The doctor sighs. “Get her up to imaging!”

A team of nurses wheels Dessi away. Frank turns around and notices me standing in the corner of the room. “Let me take you to the waiting area,” he says, extending his hand to me. “We should call your parents.”

I don’t budge.

“You can’t be back here,” he scolds.

I reluctantly take his hand. “I’m not calling my parents.”

“Why?” “I’m not going to interrupt Dessi’s custody ruling. Today is the court’s only opening before Dessi turns 18.”

“Why is Dessi not at her own custody ruling?”

“She can’t stand courtrooms.”

“Okay, well isn’t this a pretty important reason to interrupt her own custody ruling?”

“I guess, but I can’t tell them about this.”

“Why?”

“I just— I just can’t,” I stammer. I take a deep breath. “When can I see Dessi?”

Frank sighs. His eyes briefly dance around the nearly empty ER waiting room before returning his gaze to me. “Dessi is up in imaging right now. I can take you back to get cleaned up and I can have a nurse call your parents. Sound good?”

I nod. He leads me back through the swinging doors that lead to the ER. I can see where Dessi was placed when we first arrived. Frank leads me back there and ushers me to sit down in the chair placed next to the spot where a hospital bed would be.

Frank walks to the nurses’ station in the center of the room and returns followed by a tall man in turquoise scrubs. “This is Jackson,” Frank says.

“Hey there,” Jackson says, brushing the brown hair of his bangs out of his eyes. “I’m Nurse Jackson, but you can call me anything you want as long as you tell me. Frank tells me that you’ve had a bit of a rough morning.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, looking down at my blood-stained plaid skirt. “Oh, I’m Cassiopea, but you can call me Hope.”

“So, Hope.” Jackson clears his throat. “Have you contacted your parents?”

I stare down at the white speckled tile beneath my shoes. “No,” I admit quietly, “I was hoping you could do that.”

“I can give your parents a call, okay? I think you should change,” Jackson tells me.

“Into what?”

“I just texted a buddy of mine. She’s bringing down some scrubs for you to change into. Dessi will be down soon. Sit tight. I’ll be back to check on you in a little, okay?”

I nod. Jackson walks back to the nurses’ station in the center of the room. He picks up a phone and dials a number.

Franks steps in front of me. “Alright, Hope, Jocelyn and I have some paperwork to fill out. The doctors and nurses here are awesome. If you need anything, just ask.” He, too, turns around and walks away from me. He exits into the ER waiting room.

As soon as Frank is out of my sight, another person in scrubs comes my way. She is carrying a pile of maroon clothes, presumably for me. “Cassiopea?” she says, presenting me with the pile of clothes and a plastic bag.

“Thank you.” I take the scrubs out of her hands.

“You can close this curtain for privacy,” she tells me, pulling on the green fabric that hangs down from a metal bar that wraps around the ceiling above me. “Just open back up when you’ve changed so the nurses can get your friend back to you. Got it?”

I nod. She walks away. I pull the curtain around the monitors that surround a bed-shaped hole. I peel off my blood-stained middle school uniform that I don’t even know why I’m wearing today and place its pieces into the plastic bag. I pull on the scrubs and pull back the curtain. The poly-cotton fabric brushes against my skin, not too soft but not too itchy either.

After a few minutes, Dessi’s bed reappears down the hallway. She is wheeled next to me by a team of nurses. These nurses close the same curtain that I used to change. “Hey,” I say. “How are you doing?”

“I’m not too good,” Dessi says flatly. “We’re waiting on a, ummmmmm, radiologist.”

“Okay. They’ve called Mom and Dad, who I assume talked to Jess. I don’t know if they’re coming.”

“I don’t want them to come.”

“Why not?”

Dessi looks away from me. Her eyes dance across the ceiling, avoiding me at all costs. “I just don’t,” she insists. I get the feeling that this is where she’d roll over, but she’d be rolling onto her injured arm, so I reckon she won’t.

Her arm is no longer covered by a grey band with crimson stains and jagged edges. It has been wrapped in a pristine white bandage that stands out against her skin. Her other arm has an IV line connected to it with a piece of tape. This protection is clear, but her attachment to the bags is another reminder of her current state.

The doctor from when we first arrive pulls back the curtain and walks in. “Hi, I’m Dr. Niani,” she says. “I have the results from your x-rays.”

“And?” I press.

“Desdemona, you got very lucky,” Dr. Niani says.

“No, I didn’t,” Dessi retorts.

“Given your situation, you did,” Dr. Niani argues back. She takes a deep breath and starts again “Your forearm is broken in two places. The bullet is lodged between your radius and ulna below your elbow.”

Dessi is absolutely silent, so I press on. “What now?” I ask.

“We remove the bullet and realign her arm. She wears a cast for 8 weeks, and we go from there,” Dr. Niani states matter-of-factly.

“How do we do that?” Dessi inquires, her voice shaky.

“We numb your arm using a local anesthetic, make an incision, extract the bullet, reset your bones, and stitch you up.”

“And I’m awake?” Dessi asks nervously.

“It’s too risky to have you under general anesthesia.” Dr. Niani looks down at the iPad in front of her. “Moving on. Jackson got a hold of Mr. and Mrs. Murphy. They will be here as soon as they can. In the meantime, they have given us verbal consent to treat your injuries. I’d like to get that bullet out of you as soon as possible.”

I shift my glance to Dessi, who is not fully on board with this decision. Sweat glistens on her forehead and her brown eyes gloss over with unshed tears. “Dessi, it’s gonna be okay,” I tell her.

“I can’t do this,” she says as a single tear leaks out of her red eyes.

“Why not?” Dr. Niani asks softly.

“I’m scared. My mind is all over the place and I just can’t deal with this right now,” Dessi sobs.

Dr. Niani sighs. “Okay. I’ll give you some time to rest.” She walks away from us and closes the green curtain as she leaves. Her voice rings out in the distance, “Jackson, page psych.”

“Hope, why did you let them call your--our--parents?”

“They deserve to know, Dessi.” I grab Dessi’s left hand and give it a tight squeeze. Dessi picks her head and gives me a faint smile, her brown-pink lips slightly moving towards her ears. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Our moment is interrupted by yet another person opening our curtains. This time, it is a fair-skinned woman with long brown curly hair. “I’m Shayna Gold, and I’m a--”

“Psychiatrist,” Dessi finishes.

“Yes,” Shayna says. She pulls a stool out from under the table on the other side of Dessi’s bed and sits down. She scans her tablet before closing its cover and placing it under her clipboard. “I want to talk to both of you about what happened earlier.”

“What do you mean? How much earlier?” I ask.

“Anything that happened today,” Shayna replies.

I glance up at Dessi, but she has strategically averted her eyes to the ceiling. “Okay,” I sigh, “I’ll tell the story. This morning is Dessi’s custody ruling. Dessi isn’t too fond of courthouses, so I stayed home with her. After my parents left, I decided to take her out for croissants to take her mind off of it. As we left, a black SUV pulled into the alley next to the bakery. Someone wearing all black jumped out of the SUV and walked down the alley, where another hooded figure was standing. We only heard one round be fired, but it did not hit any intended target, as far as we could tell. Dessi caught that bullet in her lower arm.” I pause and take a deep breath. Until now, no one else knew about what had happened. My chest felt lighter, as if the story had been weighing me down, but my head also began to spin at the reality of what Dessi and I had experienced. “I called 911 and we were brought here,” I continue. “The bullet is stuck in Dessi’s arm bones and she needs to have a procedure to get it out, but she’s not being put to sleep and she’s scared.”

“You two have been through a lot today,” Shayna says, looking up from her clipboard, which is covered in scribbled-on notebook paper. “Let’s take a moment to appreciate how much you have already survived today.” A calm briefly fills the air, as our little nook becomes as quiet as an ER can be.

“Let’s unpack this a little, Dessi,” Shayna says. “How do you feel about the procedure? I know that you are scared, but do you know what you are scared about? Are you worried that it will hurt.”

“I mean I am worried that it will hurt, but that’s not really what’s bothering me. I’ve been shot, so pain isn’t the worst thing imaginable right now,” Dessi responds. She’s coming back. Even if there is still a bullet in her arm, her mood has begun to heal.

“Okay,” Shayna says, processing this information, “is there anything else that fuels this hesitation?”

“It just doesn’t feel right,” Dessi says, “especially with my new parents coming over. I guess I’m more worried about something happening to me or what their reactions will be.”

Shayna nods as she internalizes this information, but I have now picked up on something that Dessi has left out that is quite important. “Dess, you should probably mention what happened to your birth parents.”

“I don’t want to,” she moans in response.

“If you tell her, I am going to tell her,” I fire back.

“Hey,” Shayna interrupts in a calming voice, “if she doesn’t want to talk about it, we shouldn’t make her.”

“But I know why she’s scared,” I argue. “Her father died while undergoing treatment for cancer, but it wasn’t the chemo that killed him. Her mother had a sudden heart attack from stress. Dessi’s mother died during her father’s malpractice hearing. It’s why she can’t stand courtrooms.”

Dessi closes her eyes and leans back against her bed. She lets out a huge exasperated and nervous sigh.

“Wow, that’s really something big,” Shayna says. “Dessi, how do you feel about her saying that?”

“She’s right,” Dessi admits. She swallows hard; a bulge travels down her neck. “How do I fix this?”

“There is no way to fix this. I know that it sounds unencouraging, but you cannot change the past. That is a fact. BUT, we can do something about you right now.” Shayna stands up and places her tablet and clipboard on her stool. She walks over to be beside Dessi, facing me. “Let’s make a plan to make this experience easier for both of you.”

“Okay,” Dessi says, shifting her gaze to Shayna.

“Dessi, what makes you feel safe? What do you like to do when you’re upset?”

“I like to listen to music and talk to Hope.” Dessi glances over at me and we exchange smiles.

“I can play Spotify off my phone,” I offer.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Shayna says. “Are you feeling any more confident, Dessi?”

“I guess so,” Dessi replies. “I’m scared. I’m in pain, but Hope is here.” I squeeze her hand in agreement. “I’m ready to get this bullet out of me.”

“I’m going to let Jackson and Dr. Niani know that you are ready.” Shayna picks up her tablet and clipboard. She rolls the stool back around Dessi’s bed to where it was safely stowed before. Shayna pulls back the green curtain as she leaves and closes to restore our privacy.

I pull my phone out of the plastic bag with my clothes. I locate a paper towel dispenser above Dessi’s bed and wipe the moisture off of it. “What are you thinking?” I ask, popping Spotify open.

“I’m not sure?”

“How does Mozart sound?” I jest.

“Not really in a classical music mood,” Dessi remarks.

“You never are.”

“Don’t judge my music taste!”

“Fine! How about Panic! At the Disco?”

“Sounds great.”

I press play on my phone. The screen switches to an album cover. The notes ring out through our area, but I adjust the volume so as to not bother anyone else.

Jackson pulls back the curtain and steps toward Dessi’s bed. “I like the music. Whoever chose has good taste,” he says, and I smile up at Dessi. Jackson pulls out a small table from underneath the table upon which the monitors sit. He aligns it with Dessi’s left shoulder. He grabs a disinfecting wipe from a canister on the wall to wipe the surface down before placing a blue papery material down on the table. Jackson lightly grasps Dessi’s arm and lifts it to lie facing the ceiling on the table. “Ready?” he asks.

Dessi sighs. “I guess so.” He lifts up the white wrap that has been covering Dessi’s arm. The more material he peels off, the darker red of a stain is left on the white bandage. Jackson grabs a syringe off of the table with the monitor. “This is lidocaine,” he tells Dessi, “this might burn a bit, but it will help with the pain after.”

I reaffirm my grip on Dessi’s right hand. “Squeeze hard over here,” I say. “If you break my hand, we’re not in a bad spot.”

Dessi is definitely listening to me because her hand clamps down on mine, crushing my bones, but not breaking them, as she lets out a lingering, “Owwwwww.”

“All done,” Jackson says.

As if perfectly timed, Dr. Niani walks in as soon as Jackson pulls the lidocaine needle out of Dessi’s arm. She is carrying a metal tray with paper and plastic packages on it. When she sets down the tray, I get a look at what’s inside: surgical equipment. There’s a scalpel and some other things that I don’t recognize. Dr. Niani passes surgical masks out to me, Dessi, and Jackson before putting one on herself. She pulls on a pair of blue rubber gloves and teases open the paper packages.

Jackson places his left hands on Dessi’s upper arm. “Dessi, I’m going to need to hold as still as possible. This should be quick and easy. Do you want us to go over what we are going to do?”

“Yeah,” Dessi musters. I can’t see her face through the mask, but her eyes tell the whole story. Her heavy, glossy, shaky eyes trace over to the surgical instruments on the opposite side of Jackson.

Jackson hands Dr. Niani the scalpel. “This is a scalpel,” Dr. Niani says, “I am going to use it to make a small incision above your wound so I can smoothly extract the bullet.” She hands the scalpel back to Jackson, who trades her a metal bar that is curved at the edges. “This is a retractor. I will use it to keep your muscles out of the way.” Dr. Niani makes another trade with Jackson. This time, she receives a tool that looks like larger tweezers. “These are forceps. Once I get in there, I will use these to take that bullet out of you.” She hands the forceps back to Jackson.

“Dr. Niani,” Jackson says, “I’ve paged ortho. They’re sending Dr. Rochester down shortly.”

“Perfect,” Dr. Niani replies. “Right, that. We have an orthopedic surgeon coming down to realign your bones before we stitch you up. And that’s it!”

I squeeze Dessi’s hand. “You ready?” I ask.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Dessi replies. Jackson drapes another blue paper over Dessi’s arm. This one has a hole in it, which goes right over the hoel in Dessi’s arm.

“Scalpel?” Dr. Niani grabs the knife from Jackson’s right hand. She presses it against Dessi’s skin until some blood seeps out. To my surprise, I feel no response from Dessi, whose eyes are trained on the even larger hole in her arm.

“Jackson, retractor,” Dr. Niani commands. She pulls back Dessi’s dark skin and blood-covered internal tissue, exposing Dessi’s bones. This is not something I expected to see today. Locked in between the splintered edges of Dessi’s forearm bones is a bullet no larger than the size of my pinky. Jackson hands the forceps to Dr. Niani. She carefully probes into Dessi’s arm and grasps the offending bullet. She drops it in a plastic cup on the tray next to Jackson. “Do you want to keep it?” she offers.

“Um--” Dessi considers, but she is interrupted by a man I assume is Dr. Rochester. He pulls back the green curtain and peeks inside Dessi’s arm.

“That is quite the fracture,” he says. “Don’t worry, I can fix that pretty easily. Jackson, please apply more anchor pressure above her elbow.”

“Yes, sir,” Jackson replies as he sinks his hand deeper into Dessi’s upper arm.

Dr. Rochester looks up at Desdemona, hoping to make eye contact, but she is staring at me with tears in her eyes. “Okay, sweetheart,” he says, “this will hurt, but it will be over quickly. Okay?” He grasps Dessi’s wrist. “One, two, three.” On three, he pulls Dessi’s arm towards his abdomen. Dessi squeezes my hand harder than anyone has even squeezed it before.

Dessi lets out an ear-piercing scream, but it abruptly ends the moment she gazes down at her arm and realizes that her bones are now where they are supposed to be.

Dr. Rochester takes a look at the same sight that Dessi is marveling at. “Looks like my work here is done,” he says and pulls back the curtain to leave.

“You should keep it,” I say excitedly.

“Hope, why should I keep it?” Dessi asks.

“It’s cool. We can put it in our room!”

Dessi rolls her eyes. Usually this gesture is accompanied by a strong smirk, but her mouth is covered by blue paper, so I just assume it’s there. “Fine.”

Dr. Niani begins to sew up Dessi when I hear a familiar distress voice. “I’m looking for Cassiopea Murphy and Desdemona Freedman.” It’s my mother.

“They are currently in the middle of something, so I am going to need you to take a seat and wait until they are ready,” a nurse argues back.

“But they’re my daughters!” My mom exclaims. My mom waits for no one, so she charges back into the ER. I assume that no one stopped her because thirty seconds later, she throws the green curtain open with tears in her eyes. These teary eyes lock with mine. “Cassiopea Francessca Murphy,” she scolds.

“What?” I fire back. “It’s not my fault.”

My dad comes up behind my mom. He gently strokes her back. “We know, honey,” my dad says in a tone that is much calmer than my mother’s. “All of this is shocking, but we are so happy that the two of you are okay.”

Dr. Niani ties off the sutures she has placed in Dessi’s arm. “All done,'' she says, taking one of her gloves off and placing her bare hand on Dessi’s knee. She motions to Jackson to clean up the area before turning to my parents. “I’m Dr. Niani,” she says, extending her ungloved hand. “Desdemona did really well. We are going to cover her sutures and put a cast on that arm. In two weeks, we’ll need you to come back to get the sutures out and recast that arm. We expect that she’ll be in the cast for about 8 weeks.”

My mom grasps Dr. Niani’s hand and produces a firm handshake, like the ones that she gives at business meetings or meetings with our lawyers. “Thank you,” my mom manges in a shaky voice.

Jess enters the ER and stops at the nurse’s station. She scans the room and locks eyes with me. Jess power walks over to Dessi’s bed holding a clipboard with a small white pile and a pen dangling from it. She smiles and sets it down on Dessi’s bed. “Desdemona Freedman, I have some paperwork for you to sign.”

Dessi drops my hand to pull her mask off. Her jaw drops as she breaks out into a huge smile. “Really?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Jess sighs. She pushes the clipboard closer to Dessi’s lap and hands Dessi the pen. Dessi frantically scribbles “Desdemona Freedman” on the bottom of the second page in the stack.

“Congratulations,” Jess says. She picks up the clipboard and leaves the ER.

With Jess gone, Frank and Jocelyn emerge from the waiting room. They pause at the nurses station and exchange black clipboards before making a beeline to our little crowding corner of the ER. “Congratulations!” they shout as Frank thrusts the new clipboard toward my mother.

My mom happily grabs the clipboard and sits down at the foot of Dessi’s bed. She doesn’t waste a minute before picking up the pen and filling out the larger pile of papers. She plants a kiss on Dessi’s forehead. “I have never been more excited to fill out paperwork in a hospital.”

#hurt/comfort #whump #teenage whumpee #teenage caretaker #accidental whump #guns tw #blood tw #hospital tw #surgery tw #death mention tw #ptsd tw #it does have a happy ending though #i am partial to the caretaker

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