#Just like how Sophie seems to be enjoying BEING the food /shot

[schrijverr]

Hold Me Together

Chapter 2 out of 4

Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.

AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.

On AO3.

Ships: Thiefsome OT3

Warnings: Eliot's low self-esteem and the flu

~~~~~~~~~~

Pull Me Close

When he awoke the next morning, he was pinned down by two warm weights at his sides. He kept his breathing steady, as if he were still asleep while he assessed the situation, before last night came back to him.

He felt a heat rising to his cheeks as he cracked open one eye to look, the other having swollen shut throughout the night. It was indeed Parker and Hardison who were pinning him down and he knew he couldn't sneak out without them noticing right now. He was trapped and sooner or later he would have to face them again.

Quietly he sorted through everything, hoping to come up with a plan to make this less awkward for everyone involved.

If he moved now, they would wake up and know he was awake and he would have to talk to them, but if he pretended to still be asleep maybe they’d leave him alone, however that would be unrealistic, because he would never sleep through them waking up and it was creepy to pretend to sleep just so that you could enjoy laying in the warmth of your two coworkers that you were in love with without having to deal with the mess that made.

But, fuck, he was comfortable. More comfortable that he’d been in years. The pain had dulled a lot and he was warm and cozy under the sheets with Parker and Hardison there. Hardison snored softly and Parker’s fingers skittered over him in her sleep, almost miming a pickpocket.

It was something nice that he would never have, never deserve. And while it was selfish, he didn’t want it to end just yet.

Still, he had no say in that and all his thinking was for naught when his door slammed open and the familiar silhouette of Nate appeared, saying: “Ah, there you all are. It’s eight, we want to leave as soon as we can.”

“We’ll be there,” Parker chirped, having gone from fast asleep to awake in a moment. Nate nodded at her, before leaving.

On Eliot’s other side, Hardison was taking his time, burrowing his face into Eliot’s uninjured shoulder as he whined softly. Eliot couldn't blame him, they’d gotten to the hotel around three in the morning, so they’d had less than five hours if it was eight now. Still, the hot breaths on his neck were not good if he wanted to keep this platonic, so he poked Hardison and grouched: “Get off me, man.”

“Wha?” Hardison looked up, smiling in a way that made Eliot’s heart twist when he saw it, before he said: “Hey, it’s you. How you doin’?”

“I’m fine, slight headache and sore muscles,,” Eliot told him honestly. “I’ll be up and running in no time, now just get off me so that I can get up.”

“Your eye is bruised,” Hardison frowned, noticing the black eye that had been a light bruise a few hours ago.

“Yeah,” Parker agreed poking it and making him wince.

“Don’t touch it, Parker,” he said, leading her hand away from his face. “It’s fine, just a bruise that I forgot to cool, it’s nothing. Now stop pinning me to the mattress.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, man,” Hardison got off and Eliot could see the other man was just wearing sweatpants nothing else and his face got a bit hot again, so he looked to the other side, only to discover that Parker was in nothing but a shirt and underwear. God either loved or hated him very much.

So, instead of focusing on them, he focused on getting to a sitting position, pleased to find he could do that on his own.

He was still in Hardison’s hoodie and his own sweatpants and he really didn’t want to change. This was comfortable and warm and it would be easy to take off at home when he was by himself again, which twisted something cold in his chest. Besides he could always wash it and give it back later, an excuse to keep it for a little while. He asked: “Hey, man, can I keep this for today?” as he rubbed the sleeves between his fingers, trying not to think how sad it was that he wanted to keep it, just craving a bit of comfort for today. He still felt groggy and generally uncomfortable.

Hardison looked over, a strange look coming over his face when he saw how the sleeves fell over Eliot’s hands, before he nodded: “Yeah, course.”

“Cool, thanks.” Now this was just getting awkward, so Eliot swung his legs over the side of the bed where Parker had been, since she had disappeared a few seconds ago.

Before he could stand up, however, Hardison was crawling after him, nearly toppling off the bed, before he said: “Wait! Stop. You can’t just do that, Eliot. Your ankle is hurt.”

“Me and my ankle will live,” Eliot informed him. It would be slightly painful to walk, but not impossible.

“Just let me help for a moment,” Hardison asked, quickly pulling on a shirt he found on the floor, before offering a hand.

Eliot rolled his eyes at the fussing, but he was also selfish enough to allow it. It was going to be over soon anyway, why not enjoy a bit of contact? Hardison wanted to help, so it wasn’t taking advantage of it, and not putting any weight on his ankle would be a smart move.

So, they made their way downstairs, with Hardison carrying Eliot’s bag and laying his hand on Eliot’s waist again, while Parker met them at the elevator, her and Hardison’s stuff in hand almost as if they’d planned this.

He tried not to think about it as Hardison led him to the table where Sophie was sitting, before telling him he was to stay there and that Hardison would get him a plate from the buffet. Once he was gone, Sophie leaned over and asked: “So, good night?”

“Was fine,” he replied, eyeing her suspiciously after she’d grinned at him and flicked her eyes towards Hardison and Parker. Had she figured out his feelings? Was he being obvious? Did she think something happened between them? Trying to play it cool, he added: “Got more than 90 minutes of sleep for a change.”

“Oh, your productivity out the door like that,” she teased, luckily dropping any suggestiveness and prying.

“I was productive in healing my body,” he shot back, hiding his relief.

Sophie frowned at his face, cocking her head. “I can see that,” she said sarcastically.

“Come on, Soph, this is not my first black eye,” Eliot said. “My stitches are clean, my ankle is wrapped, my shoulder is back. I’m as good as I can be, little swollen eye is nothing. Could be much worse. Has been in the past.”

At that point Hardison came back with a plate of stuff Eliot actually liked, which touched him more than he’d liked to admit. He put the plate down in front of Eliot, inserting himself into the conversation: “Is he trying to tell you he’s fine by telling you everything that’s wrong with him and reminding you that he’s had a shit life?”

“Yes, it’s not really working,” Sophie said, before Eliot could protest that it was useful, because he was reminding them this was his job and it was okay, that he was okay and taken care off, because all his wounds were clean and it wasn’t that bad.

Instead of saying all that, however, he shoved a fork of food into his mouth and glowered: “See if I ever tell you about my injuries again.”

“He’s grouching, that means he’s okay, right?” Parker asked, poking his cheek again.

“Stop that, Parker,” he snapped, not really mad at her, because he was weak and would do anything to make her happy.

“Jup, he’s okay,” Hardison said, smiling and Eliot wanted to smack him, but he was right and cute, so he couldn’t. “And he’s telling us about his injuries next time.”

“Or we’ll force him!” Parker added enthusiastically.

“Was it that bad?” Sophie was immediately worried again and Eliot wanted them to stop fussing, because it felt weird and twisty in his chest when they did and he hated that he didn’t know what to do with the feeling.

“No, it wasn’t, I’m-” he got cut off by Hardison, who said: “He was kinda out of it for a bit, but nothing we couldn't handle. He was a bit grumpy about the whole thing, but he’s always like that. We just need to keep his leg up and as cool as we can during the drive and he should be set. Probably sleep a bit on the way too.”

“And how am going to sleep in that crappy van?” Eliot grouched. He wanted to protest it all, but no one was listening to him, so protesting seemed a bit redundant. Besides it was hard to be mad at them about it when it seemed like they all cared about his well being and the twisty feeling in his chest was only getting twistier.

“Excuse you, Lucille is a beautiful lady and you will treat her as such,” Hardison began. “And second off, you can sleep in the backseat. There’s a storage area between the front seats that you can rest you foot on. Promise me and Parker won’t bother your little nap.”

“I’m not sleeping in the van,” not between the two of you, he added mentally. “And why don’t I get to sit up front? Don’t I have injured rights?”

“No, there’s more space on the backseat and Nate’s driving and you’re horrible when Nate drives,” Hardison explained.

“I’m not horrible when Nate drives, he just sucks at driving,” Eliot frowned.

“He turned on his blinker once and you got annoyed, because it was too early, Eliot,” Sophie pointed out.

“Yeah and what about that time you said he switched lanes wrong,” Parker said. “You were very scary. You’re not even that scary when I drive and everyone hates my driving.”

“I can’t help that Nate can’t drive,” Eliot crossed his arms.

From behind him Nate’s voice said: “I’m glad you think so highly off my driving skills. You’re in the back seat, I don’t need you to grouch at me for hours about holding the steering wheel wrong or whatever you come up with.”

Eliot had registered him coming up behind him, but he didn’t care that Nate heard. He wanted to be mad about being injured and unable to fight, but he wasn’t able to, so he was going to be mad about something else and right now that was Nate’s driving and being in the back seat. He frowned (frowned, not pouted, Hardison): “I’m still gonna yell at you from the back.”

“Sure you are,” Nate said as he started to walk off with a cup of coffee. “Our mark has officially been taken into custody and the victims have been repaid. I want to be home before dinner, so buckle up everyone.”

They grumbled and groaned about it being too earlier to pack up, but no one stayed seated. This time it was Parker steadying him while Hardison carried all their stuff to Lucille.

Getting back into Lucille was another problem and Eliot was glad Nate and Sophie had already gotten into the van, because this was embarrassing enough as it was without onlookers.

Hardison had to support him fully on the left side, where his injured ankle was, but not his ex-dislocated shoulder, while Parker physically put his uninjured foot into Lucille. Then Hardison hoisted them into the van with Parker making sure they wouldn't fall back, until they were in and they could shuffle forwards and get seated.

Eliot was determined not to be visibly injured, so he crossed his arms and planted his feet on the ground, before staring ahead, vowing to keep his one, not swollen eye firmly open for the entire ride.

His plan was ruined by Parker the moment she settled on his other side, because she leaned forwards and put his leg on the little platform and right as he was about to protest, she put a bag of ice cubes on his foot and that actually felt really nice, so he cut himself off with a soft, grumpy thanks. She smiled: “Of course,” before handing him another ice cube bag for his eye.

Still, he could be awake and grumpy about everything, even when they were treating him like he was terribly injured, which he could understand after the fucking spectacle he made of himself last night. So he just told Nate that he shouldn’t pull up so fast, which earned him a glare from the man through the rear view mirror that he ignored.

Parker was on his right fiddling with one of her locks while she gazed out the window. Hardison was on his left and tapping away on a screen that was moving too fast for Eliot to follow. It was peaceful and they talked with each other softly, though Eliot didn’t have the energy to add his own commentary.

He felt bad about being in the middle of them again when they had already missed each other last night because of him. They hadn’t even seen each other during the job either with Hardison on tech support and Parker running between stealing and grifting.

He didn’t know how to bring it up that he wouldn’t mind switching with Hardison so that they could be next to each other and he could lean against the window. It wasn’t that he was tired and wanted to lean against something, he just wanted to have a clear line of sight, that was all.

The ice was slowly melting, until he had two bags of water and they were nearing their first stop, where Nate pulled over. Sophie would be driving the next stretch, because car-safety and all that jazz.

“Want me to get you anything?” Hardison asked when it became clear that Eliot wasn’t leaving the van.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said. “Maybe switch places with me? I can’t lean against anything in the middle.” He didn’t add: ‘and I’m sure you missed Parker,’ partially because he knew it would have come out sounding bitter and that was something he did not need to deal with, both mentally and in real life.

Hardison raised a brow. “And where are you going to rest you foot if you’re on the left? And I know you ain’t going to be on the right, I heard your shoulder that shit was just wrong.”

“I’ll be fine without resting my foot anywhere. Dammit, Hardison,” Eliot frowned, not sure why the hacker was even fighting him on this.

“You can lean against me, promise I won’t draw on your face,” Hardison said, before walking away so that Eliot couldn't reply. Parker skipped up next to him and asked about the drawing on the face with a bit too much glee.

The words caught up with Eliot and he could feel his cheeks getting warmer, which he pushed down immediately. Hardison had offered it so casually, like it wasn’t weird at all that he was turning down the offer of sitting next to his girlfriend so that Eliot could lean against his shoulder. But maybe Eliot was seeing things where there was nothing, he was injured (minor injuries but that didn’t seem to stop Hardison from worrying), so it could just be a normal offer. It wasn’t as if Hardison hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder from time to time.

It wouldn't be weird, he didn’t need to make it weird. Besides, he didn’t needto take him up on the offer and lean on Hardison. He could just not sleep and keep on looking forwards. Yeah, that was a plan.

Soon the others came back, piling into the van once more, with Parker shoving two cold things in his hands as she proudly proclaimed: “They sold ice packs!”

“Oh, thank you, Parker,” he smiled at her, starting to lean forward with a grunt only to find one of the ice packs stolen and being placed on his foot again. He nodded his thanks to Parker, before settling down against the backseat and putting the other ice pack against his eye.

The swelling had gone down already with the ice cubes from the hotel, but the fresh coolness of the ice pack was still welcome.

On his other side, Hardison said: “I managed to convince her not to take the markers, so you’re welcome.”

“And who gave her the idea in the first place,” Eliot shot back, getting an idea. “I’m not risking it by sleeping. You never know if she doesn’t have them anyway.”

“Come on, man, you need the rest,” Hardison tried to argue.

“I already had more sleep than normal, Hardison. I’m fine,” Eliot replied. He did feel tired, but he wasn’t admitting that.

“But I promise I don’t have the markers,” Parker inserted herself into the conversation as well, showing that she only had some hundred dollar bills in her pockets along with some earrings that weren’t hers and a small stuffed mushroom.

“You literally just asked me if we could switch places so that you could lean against something,” it was clear that Hardison wasn’t believing him.

“I thought that you would want to sit next to Parker, sorry for trying to be nice,” he huffed out the truth, hoping it would get them off his back. They stayed silent, so he called out to the front: “Soph, can we please listen to something else, I am so not in the mood for opera.”

Sophie did change the station to something more generic with less high notes that made his head hurt, even if she grumbled: “Someone’s in a mood today.”

He snapped back: “You try getting beat up on a regular basis, see if you’re still sunshine and rainbows after.”

“No, for real, man, you’re never this grouchy,” Hardison frowned, trying to subtly check him over and failing on the subtle part. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“Is there an alien in your stomach controlling you?” Parker asked with wide eyes.

“Dammit, Hardison, I told you not to watch those stupid alien movies with her,” Eliot focused on something other than the uncomfortable questions Hardison had asked.

Because yeah, he was more grouchy than normal and something was wrong, but the something that was wrong was the fact that he had discovered that he was in love with his two best friends and now he was stuck on an eight hour car ride between them after they had seen him vulnerable and he feared that they would catch on or that he was coming between them and it was all the confusing twisty things he had tried to avoid and didn’t want to talk about.

Grouchy didn’t entirely cover that.

“Uhm, excuse you, alien movies are a staple of American culture that everyone should get to experience, so don’t even start there, also you didn’t answer my question,” Hardison told him, leveling him with a stare.

Eliot now had a choice. And it was easily made. “I have a huge headache, Hardison,” he sighed a partially lie, before going on with a whole lie, “I have a headache, I barely slept on the last con and you’re all very loud. I don’t need anyone’s fussing, I just wanted to sit quietly and everyone is making it really hard.”

“Thank you for being honest with us,” Parker said and it was obviously something she’d learned from Sophie and Eliot felt guilty about pretending to be open about his injuries a bit, just so they would get off his back.

“Yeah, man, we’ll be quiet,” Hardison added.

Hardison turned back to his screen and Parker to her locks and Eliot tried not to miss their soft chatter as he closed his eyes and tried to find his zen place.

After how much he’d insisted he wasn’t going to sleep, he was slightly embarrassed that the next moment he was waking up, having been asleep for some time. He could tell Sophie was behind the wheel, which meant he either hadn’t been asleep for long or they were on the last two hour stretch home.

He now registered that the ice pack on his foot had was cool again and the one on his cheek was held in place by someone – Parker his mind supplied – but he was leaning against something, someone, else with his other cheek. He was kind of groggy and he struggled to wake up, blinking bleary until he heard Hardison’s voice near his left ear: “Hey there, finally joining us in the land of the living again, huh?”

“Wha?” he was still feeling disorientated, the headache was much worse than when he’d drifted off and his muscles were sore, he was also cold and his throat ached slightly in the background. He levered himself into a sitting position and tried to take a deep breath to wake up, only to find his nose stuffy.

No.

Fuck no.

It all clicked into place after a second. The confusion, the chills, the headache, sore muscles and throat and then also a stuffy nose. He was sick. He had managed to get himself sick.

“You okay?” Hardison asked, obviously concerned and Eliot felt guilty about having been asleep on his shoulder after everything, as well as guilt because that couldn't have been comfortable and Eliot just cozied up to him again, even when he knew Hardison had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who had been holding his ice pack for him.

He owed those two so much in just the last 24 hours alone, not to mention the past few years. That was something he couldn't pay back and he had treated them like shit and had caught weird feelings for them and gotten in between them.

Tears came to his eyes and he blinked them away as a hole started to eat away at his heart and he couldn't fully push that down, even if he tried.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his too emotional state of being was due to his lower defenses since he was sick. He felt too exhausted to fight it, but did it after a moment anyway, replacing it with enough grumpiness to be believable.

“‘m fine,” he mumbled, trying not to make his sore throat obvious as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up. They didn’t need to know he was sick, they would only worry. He would disappear when they got home and come back when he felt better again. “Are we near the brewpub yet?”

“Yes, you slept for so long, it was a bit boring, but your nose whistled and that was funny,” Parker informed him. “Hardison was trapped under you the entire ride.”

Now at that he did blush and avoided Hardison’s eyes as he softly apologized.

“No worries, man, you obviously needed the sleep,” Hardison assured him. “And I wasn’t trapped under you the entire ride, we managed to lever you over to Parker’s shoulder when Nate took Sophie’s place again. We only switched you back last stop.”

“I didn’t wake up?” Eliot asked, frowning, he must be sicker than he thought.

“Slept like a baby,” Hardison said. “Are you sure you’re okay, man?”

“‘m fine, I already said that,” Eliot grouched, trying not to let show how much he wanted to not be okay and wrapped up in a hug or a blanket or something. He was the tough one, he couldn't be weak, because his job was being strong. Just hold on, Eliot, he thought, then you can crash on your bed.

“Your voice sounds off,” Parker observed, “more gravelly than normal. And you didn’t wake up in a second and your eyes are still drooping.” She cocked her head, before her eyes got a knowing gleam in them. He was made. “Do you feel hungry? Or are you nauseous? Are you in any discomfort? Cold, perhaps? How’s your headache?”

“Hey, mama, why don’t you give the man a rest,” Hardison came to his defense. “You’re kinda overwhelming him with questions right now.”

“When has Eliot ever been overwhelmed?” Parker shot back and Eliot cursed her observation skills, there went his plan to hide until he was better.

“What are you getting at, baby?” Hardison frowned.

“She figured out I’m sick,” Eliot snapped, before Parker could tell him. “And I’m right here. No need to talk about me like I’m not.”

“You’re sick?” Nate asked. “How long has that been going on?”

“I only noticed it when I woke up,” Eliot replied, remembering one of Nate’s rules. “I would have told you if I was sick on the con. I wouldn’t have put you all in danger over me being sick, you know that.”

“Is his wound infected?” Sophie asked and before Eliot could tell them that no it was not, because he would have noticed that, two small calloused thief hands crawled under his shirt, feeling at the bandage, before lifting his shirt to inspect it. Parker reported: “The wound is fine.”

“Do we have supplies for soup at home?” Hardison asked.

“I think we have a blanket for him somewhere under the chairs,” Nate said.

“Oehh, we can build a pillow fort!” Parker exclaimed.

“I’m right here,” Eliot grouched, he didn’t need their care. Craved it? Yes. But he didn’t need it and he wasn’t going to let them. He was supposed to be invincible and while they were long past believing that, he couldn't let them see how pathetic he was. “And I don’t need a damn blanket or soup, or a pillow fort. I’m just a bit under the weather and I am fine on my own. I’ll take a few days and then I’m good to go, don’t be so dramatic.”

Hardison looked him over, then looked at Parker and raised his brow in an ‘are you hearing this guy’ manner, before he said: “I can be as dramatic as I want to be.”

“What? No,” Eliot said. “I’m the sick one and if I say I’m fine and you gotta stop being dramatic about it, then you stop being dramatic about it. Simple.”

“Sure, simple,” Hardison said, pulling out the blanket and teamworking with Parker to get it around his shoulders. “Except I worried my ass off last night because you could hardly walk, or even stand on your own and you dazed out constantly while trying to tell us you were fine. So when it comes to you telling me you’re fine, I’m not really trusting you, alright.”

The blanket around his shoulders was warm and he wanted to burrow into it, but he wasn’t giving in so easily.

“Dammit, Hardison, I said I was fine. I don’t need any of your fussing near me, alright. I’m not incompetent. It’s not even that bad,” he yelled, snapping because he had no energy to do anything but snapping or giving in at this point. And giving in wasn’t an option.

“I know you’re not incompetent, Eliot, we all do,” Hardison said, Parker agreeing: “Of course we don’t think that, you’re skilled.”

He crossed his arms and looked away. He knew they didn’t think he was incompetent, they wouldn't trust him with their lives otherwise, but that could change at any moment. He’d seen it happen before, so he wasn’t risking it.

“And I’m also hearing a lot about you don’t needing anything, which I also believe,” Hardison went on in a tone that had Eliot’s guard up. “But I ain’t hearing nothing about wanting. And we care about you, man, how many times have I got to tell you that? We want to take care of you, even if we know you don’t need it.”

“I don’t need anyone playing nurse,” he protested again. It was weak and he knew it, but he had to protest, he had to warn them without explicitly warning them, because that would also be a weakness and- His head hurt and the thoughts in it were swirling and confusing him.

“That kinda looks like a lie to me,” Hardison said, looking him over with concern in his eyes. “And you’re again talking about needing not wanting.”

“Are you okay, Eliot?” Parker was also not happy with his face it seemed, but he knew he must look like a confused, sweating, hurt mess, with a swollen eye and a shivering frame. He had even pitifully burrowed into the blanket without even realizing.

“I’m- I’m- I don’t know,” he finally admitted. He was just tired and upset about feelings he couldn't place. He wanted to crash someplace warm and not have to think for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said again, voice unsteady. “It’s- I- I can never want something. ‘s a weakness.”

If he was paying attention, he could have pinpointed when Hardison’s heart broke by the look in his eye, but instead he was distracted by Parker pulling him into a hug as she said: “I get it, but Hardison taught me how to feel stuff and you taught me how to like stuff, we can teach you how to be taken care of.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Sophie’s voice was slightly fake in her enthusiasm as it came from the front seat, cutting off any half-formed protests from Eliot.

“Me too,” Hardison quickly agreed, throwing an arm over Eliot’s shoulder and pulling him close, until he was leaning against his chest, Parker on his lap like a pretzel. “We’ll teach you how to be taken care off and then you can work on your verbal explanations by teaching me how to make soup for you from the comforts of a bed.”

“Wha- I don’t-” Eliot’s mind was too confused to properly fight the argument, he somewhere knew needed to be fought, while also not wanting to fight it.

“It’s been a lot of don’ts from you, just accept it, alright?” Hardison said, pulling him closer and he wanted to protest again. Really, he did. But he was also very comfortable and warm and he was tired and they’d be home soon. He could fight them again when they were home.

In the end, it turned out that fighting them when they got home was a terrible plan. The sleeping had left him groggy and Nate and Sophie had already disappeared, leaving him with just Hardison’s comforting chattering and Parker’s puppy eyes. He couldn't drive home in this state and both had refused to drive him and he already had a room above the brewpub, so he could go home tomorrow if he felt like it and-

And he gave in, the great Eliot Spencer, defeated by cute little eyes and too many arguments about a comfortable bed nearby. What had his life come to?

His life had come to waking up in a soft bed, that Hardison had managed to get exactly right before he’d even arrived in Portland all those months ago, with a sore throat and muscles, while being nicely warm on his right side where a bony elbow was wedged into his side, while on the other side there was a consistent, comfortingly familiar tapping noise.

He blinked blearily and groaned when a wave of nausea rolled over him, before a coughing fit overtook him. Parker’s warmth disappeared, but Hardison’s voice came: “Hey, hey, you’re alright, you’re alright.”

A glass of water appeared and he took it gratefully, sipping it slowly and letting it sooth his throat and wash away the itch at the back of it.

“You’ve been clonked out for the past few hours, about sixteen. How you feeling?” And Eliot was grateful that Hardison knew him well enough to first tell him how much time he’d lost before asking him about his state.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but his voice was barely a whisper.

“That response is really ingrained, isn’t it, huh?” Hardison said, but there was no judgment in his voice.

“Oehh, is that one of the things we’re teaching him to stop with? Like how I had to look further than the alarms in a museum?” Parker piped up.

“Yeah, exactly, mama,” Hardison’s smile was obvious when he talked. “He can start by telling us how he really feels.”

And Eliot was honestly too tired to follow the conversation, so he gave up on trying and just answered honestly: “Like I’ve been hit by a motorcycle.”

“Not a truck?” Hardison asked.

“No, motorcycle hit is very distinctive.”

“You and your distinctive,” the mutter was more for Hardison himself than him, so he ignored it. “Parker, baby, if I go get the soup, can you make sure he doesn’t drop off again. He needs to eat if he wants to recover.”

“Of course, I’ll keep watch!” Parker saluted and Hardison left the room.

Eliot let his eyes close, content to just lie there, but Parker obviously thought he was falling asleep again, because she poked his right cheek where the bruise was. It was less tender than last time, but still sore, so he hissed: “The fuck, Parker.”

“I need to keep you awake,” she said with wide eyes and he wanted to roll his, but that would make her sad, so he just sighed and leaned back into his pillow, this time with his eyes open.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to put together the little bit of information his brain was willing to give him.

“Well, you were out beating people up in the rain,” she launched into an explanation, “and Hardison says you don’t actually get sick from the rain, but you did get sick and me and Hardison are taking care of you, but you were really grumpy on the drive back, but then you fell asleep. And your nose whistled.”

He let her voice wash over him as she went on.

“But then you woke up and you were really sad about something, but also grouchy and then Hardison did his thing, where he gets people and has like the voice that tells him what you need to hear. He and Sophie both do it, it’s fascinating, he’s teaching me how to do it too. And you gave in, because you wanted to, but you didn’t want to tell us, so we had to crack your emotion safe with our words and now we’re going to teach you how to be taken care of,” she finished.

Wait what? He had put most of the pieces together and part of him had only partially questioned why they were in his bed, but he hadn’t remembered this. He thought they were just here to see if he woke up again and now that he had, he could throw them out of his room (going to his apartment seemed too hard at this point), but not this.

Before the freak out could fully set in, Hardison entered with a bowl of steaming soup. “Here you go, chicken noodle soup, the best for when you’re sick and homemade,” Hardison grinned. “I really want to say by us, but we set a pan on fire and then asked the kitchen staff to make it.”

He wordlessly accepted the soup, still trying to figure out what was going on exactly, how he felt about it and how he would get out of it.

Yeah, okay, what the fuck had his life come to?

~~

A/N:

I really like the idea of Eliot being fine with the insane driving off Sophie and Parker, because it’s at least functional in a getaway situation, but he can’t stand Nate’s just below average driving (personal headcanon) in an everyday situation. It tickles me.

Also I know that Lucille doesn’t have a backseat bench, but the vibes were too good so just go with it

[some-days-we-get-sundays]

Ryan, Sophie & Mary go to the beach.

“She gives you butterflies” - A Wildmoore fanfic

“Oh my GAWD, why is it so freakin hot!” Sophie whined. Sophie was lying on Mary and Ryan’s couch with her head on one end and her legs perched up on Ryan’s lap. Ryan had her head thrown back with her hand over her face and Mary was lying on her stomach on the floor and she had a cold rag draped over her neck. 

“Well you could take you butt back to your own place, having one less body here would probably make it less hot.” Ryan shot Sophie a glance. And Sophie hit Ryan with a pillow. Ryan was too hot to retaliate. 

“My place is just as hot and it has no trees or areas of shade! It’s not my fault the power went out all over town. And hey, you’re Batwoman, why don’t you go find what happened and fix it or something?” Mary rolled her eyes but didn’t look at Sophie and Ryan. She now understood that this was Ryan and Sophie’s way of flirting with each other. At first when they bickered like this and were mean to each other, she thought they really hated one another- and they probably did. But somewhere along the line they started to hate each other less and hang out more. But that didn’t stop the tension. Mary wanted to ask one of them what was going on but she also wasn’t so sure they themselves even understood it. So for now she was comfortable just letting them be annoyingly flirty and oblivious.

“I’ve got it!!” Mary exclaimed and sat up quickly. Glee on her face. Sophie and Ryan both turned their heads expectantly at Mary, waiting for whatever their genius doctor friend had to say. 

“Swimming! We should totally go swimming!” Mary waited for Sophie and Ryan to leap with delight at her brilliant idea. That didn’t exactly happen. Ryan and Sophie silently communicated with each other through their eyes- something they started doing a lot lately. Mary patiently waited, watching the cute faces they were making at each other. 

“Ok fine.” Ryan said. Mary had not heard any exchange but based on Ryan’s tone, Sophie thought the swimming was a great idea and Ryan did not. But Sophie had convinced Ryan to go along with it. Mary wouldn’t admit this out loud to anyone but she liked watching the dynamic between Ryan and Sophie. She would be jealous of their connection if she didn’t suspect the two had feelings for each other. While she sometimes felt like a 3rd wheel, she knew that what those two had was developing into something deeper than friendship. She sometimes wanted to get Alice in the same room and have her start psychoanalyzing the pair. 

“Oh come on Ryan, this is gonna be fun. Beside it’s hot as hell, don’t you wanna get wet?” As soon as the words left Sophie’s mouth, Sophie felt her cheeks get warm. She prayed Ryan would let it go. 

“You know what Soph, I do want to get wet, but there are other ways that I can make that happen.” Ryan smirked at Sophie and gave her a suggestive look. Then she replaced that look with her wide signature smile, the one she knew Sophie couldn’t resist. Sophie cracked a smile.

“Somebody needs to get fucked.” Sophie said. 

“I’m not the only one.” Ryan shot back. Sophie’s eye brows raised. 

“OKAY! Sophie, let’s stop by your place on the way there and you can grab your suit. They said power would be back on in a few hours so hopefully when we come back all our food isn’t rotten. Grab some snacks and water that you have. Ryan go grab your shit that you need from your room and I’ll get what I need.” Mary enjoyed Ryan and Sophie’s dynamic but she didn’t need to hear them making sex comments towards each other. She also didn’t need them to bone each other right in her presence. Maybe going to the beach with these two hormonal teenagers was not one of her more genius ideas after all. 

Scene 2: The Beach++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Come on you slow asses!” Sophie called from the water. She apparently was a mermaid in her past life and she loved the water. Mary and Ryan were in a spot in the sand that was partially covered by shade. 

“We’ll be down in a second!’ Mary shouted back at Sophie, then watched her dive under the water and then resurface, dive under, and resurface. The sun sparkled on the water around Sophie, and Mary lifted her eyes to look at the sky. It was a gorgeous day. Beside her, Ryan was putting on sunblock, pretending not to be interested in watching Sophie. Mary decided maybe now was a good time to just put the idea in Ryan’s head. Or at least show Ryan support. Ryan was a very proud person and her relationship with Sophie and the crows had been, rocky. To put it lightly. Even though Sophie was no longer with the crows, Mary knew how hard it was for Ryan to finally let Sophie in. 

“You know, it’s alright if you like her.” Mary started off slowly, she didn’t want to piss Ryan off and make the whole day uncomfortable. Ryan visibly stiffened and then relaxed. 

“Who?” Ryan went for acting like she didn’t know what or who Mary was referring to. Mary rolled her eyes. 

‘Ryan, you are not that good of an actor first of all. Sophie found out you were Batwoman in point 5 seconds. So let’s leave the acting to Viola Davis, shall we?” Ryan didn’t say anything. Mary tried again. 

“Sophie. Ryan, I’m talking about Sophie. It’s ok if you like her. You know like, like her like her.” Ryan was quiet for a second. 

“I can’t like a crow Mary. Me and Soph are friends now and that’s it. Do I think she’s pretty, of course, I have eyes. But that would never work.” Ryan clapped the top onto the sunblock and stared out at Sophie. Ryan felt butterflies in her stomach and she absentmindedly put her hand over her belly. She didn’t realize Mary was watching. 

“She gives you butterflies.” Mary stated matter-of-factly, she had followed Ryan’s gaze that was still trained on Sophie. They were quiet for a few moments and then Ryan looked at Mary.

“She gives me the whole damn zoo.” Ryan finally said. Mary laughed and shoulder bumped Ryan. “Tell her.” Mary said softly. Ryan gave Mary a, bitch are you serious, look.

“I’m not telling Sophie shit. It’s just a crush, besides I just ended things with Imani, it would be weird to just jump into another relationship. And she already was suspicious of me and Sophie.” Ryan sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “Besides, a crow? Ew.” 

“Kay, Sophie is not with the crows anymore, stop using that as an excuse. Second, Luke told me you hated having to keep your Bdub identity from Imani. Just think you wouldn’t have to hide that from Sophie because she already knows.” 

“I already know what?” Sophie had walked up on the pair as they were deep in conversation and had lost Sophie among the sea of beach goers; they had not realized she’d gotten out of the water until she was in their face. Ryan changed the subject quickly. 

“Um you already know that I can win in a foot race to the water.” Ryan knew that was a weak cover but she hoped Sophie would let it slide. She played on Sophie’s competitive side. 

“Girl, now I know you’s a damn lie.” Sophie said. Ryan chuckled and she stood up. 

“Ready set go!” Ryan counted off fast and took off running trying to get the advantage of starting off early. Sophie’s longer legs had no issue keeping up with Ryan. They got to the edge of the water and Sophie grabbed Ryan from behind and lifted her. Sophie spun them around and they both went crashing into the water. They wrestled and tussled for a bit. Touching each others mid sections playfully and letting fingers and hands roam and linger longer than what was appropriate for people who were just friends. Mary watched on from her spot in the sand with vivid fascination. 

“You know I won, right?” Sophie said slightly out of breath from the running and then the rough housing. They were now wading a little over waist deep in the water. Sophie was half a foot taller than Ryan so the water wasn’t covering her as much. She shivered. Ryan instinctively reached out and put her hands on Sophie. She knew it would not warm her up but she wanted an excuse to touch her again. She started on Sophie’s arms and then put her hands on Sophie’s waist and slowly pulled her closer. It was weird being this close to Sophie, it felt intimate. But natural. Comfortable. Right. Sophie looked down into Ryan’s eyes with a bit of a question mark circling her orbs but she let Ryan continue. Ryan had these deep chocolate brown puppy dog eyes that Sophie could never get enough of and right now they were melting fires into Sophie’s own. She contemplated saying something, but she didn’t know what and she didn’t want to interrupt whatever was happening between them. She thought that if she spoke that maybe this spell would be broken. Suddenly, Ryan pulled herself up slowly and kissed Sophie on her neck. It was one of the sexist kisses that Sophie had ever experienced. She buried her head into Ryan and felt Ryan’s soft wet lips kiss and suck and then give a little bat bite. Then it was over and Ryan pulled back. Sophie’s looked at Ryan, not sure of what was going to happen next. She let Ryan take the lead because she seemed determined. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Ryan simply said. And then she laughed and put her head against Sophie’s chest. Almost embarrassed now by her own bravado. Sophie wrapped her arms around Ryan and they stood there like that, holding each other. Not fully understanding the magnitude of the situation, but also not wanting to make a big deal or extravagant gestures and speeches. Suddenly they both got drenched with a huge wave. They looked around to see who the culprit was and their eyes landed on Mary who was smirking. They both splashed her back and they all screamed and shouted playfully, trying to see who could splash the other with the most water.

“I told you guys the beach would be littyyy,” Mary said cheerfully. 

‘Yeah yeah.” Sophie and Ryan both said in unison. 

“Oh also, I better not catch you two having sex on the couch.” Mary splashed Ryan and Sophie and then quickly dived under the water. Ryan and Sophie’s mouths hung open, and they slowly looked at one another, then back at Mary who was getting further away. Sophie thought she heard Ryan mutter, “can’t make any promises” as they raced to catch up with their friend. 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 12

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, anxiety 

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N stood in her bedroom considering Daniel’s words. Clueless. God, the word itself stung coming from someone she had grown to see as a big brother. Clueless. Well, sure, she did not exactly know what happened behind closed doors with both the Stan family and Forrest family business but neither did Daniel, or at least as well as he bragged to know. She had heard both families were cruel but in all honesty, she just couldn’t imagine any of the heads of both families being those monsters people spoke of. She specially could not imagine Sebastian to be the monster Dan wanted to paint him, no. He had kind eyes, he didn’t have the type of darkness that she had seen in various other lesser associates, he had peaceful ones like the sea after a storm. Besides, Y/N liked to consider herself a good judge of character so maybe Dan was just being overprotective.

Annoyed, she huffed, turning on her side with her phone on her hand as she searched for the contact she wanted to call. She took her phone up to her ear, hearing the dialling tone for what felt for ages until the familiar operator voice came through. The number you have dialled is unavailable, please leave your message at the sound of the tone.

     - Hi Sebastian, it’s Y/N. I just ... I just wanted to check on you, to see if you’re alright. Give me a call when you can. Okay ... bye. 

She sighed, throwing her phone to the side table before getting under her duvet, her mind finally getting time to wrap around what had happened days prior. Why didn’t she feel guilty she had kissed a very engaged man? She always thought that cheating was a terrible thing to do to someone yet right now all she could think about was that maybe ... maybe she would be able to do it again. It wasn’t right but he was just so electric, magnetic even and his words echoed in her mind like a drum ... I’m here for you, no one can harm you. 

Sure, she had protection at most times considering Elias and Christian, whenever not in Gwen’s bedroom, were constantly around ensuring that no one got in or out of the house without permission or reason to do. However, protection from Sebastian sounded ... sweeter, warmer even. No man had ever told her they were there for her, much less they would fight their own wife for her (this mostly due to her preference at avoiding married men). It was unfair, very unfair that the very first time she felt seen and protected ... maybe even fully appreciated was by someone she just couldn’t have.

As her mind raced through various excuses as to why she kissed the mob boss, the sleepless nights caught up to her and soon she found herself surrounded by the familiar darkness of slumber. She woke up once again with the sun beams cutting through her window and decided that maybe right now what she needed was a good amount of food.

Going down the stairs, the familiar sight of Amelia in the kitchen preparing a fresh brew of coffee made her sleepily smile. This was the normality and home life she needed after all of Paris’ events. 

    - Good morning, Miss Y/N. How was Paris? - she turned on the kettle at the sight of the handmaid to prepare her favourite infusion. 

    - Paris was lovely. - she smiled softly, not pulling too much at the skin of her cheeks as she sat on the high chairs. - Do you think I could have some grilled cheese this morning?

   - You can have whatever you want, Miss Y/N. It is always a pleasure to cook for you. - Y/N couldn’t help but smile wider at that statement. It felt nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t about to married to a mob boss, a mob boss, associates or bodyguards. - You look different.

    - How so? - she raised an eyebrow at the statement. Oh god, had Gwen discovered she kissed her husband to be and cut her hair in disdain? 

    - I don’t know ... there’s a spring in your step, you look very happy. Might there be someone in Paris? - yeah, sure, he is in Paris, he’s just not her someone, he’s Gwen’s. - Maybe it’s the European air.

   - Maybe ... You wouldn’t know when Mr. Stan is coming back, would you?

   - I don’t know, Miss. Mr. Stan shows up when he wants, never leaves a message, he’s just like his father in that sense. 

   - Did you know his father? - Y/N had never actually known his father but from what she heard from Gwen he was a tall, stern man who managed to put fear and respect in everyone’s hearts without giving it much of a try.

   - Just between us both Miss Y/N, I am very glad he only resembles his father in that sense. No man should be that comfortable with death and power and not fear it all the time. - she shrugged, flipping the sandwich on the skillet. - If I must say, I think Mr. Stan is much more like his mother. I’ve always said this house needed another kind woman after she left. 

   - I just can’t picture it. - Y/N didn’t exactly knew who Sebastian’s mother was. In all honesty, not a lot of people knew and Sebastian wasn’t one for big speeches about his family. However, she had always pictured him as being much more like his father, a powerful man. - He doesn’t really talk about his family. 

   - What about you, Miss Y/N? What about your parents?

   - Oh ... - she toyed with the chain of her necklace, slightly bitting her lip. - I don’t really know. Mr. Forrest told me my father was one of his workers, never told me much about my mother either. They died shortly after I was born. 

   - I’m very sorry, Miss Y/N. - Amelia slid her the grilled cheese on a nice porcelain plate. - I’m sure that they would be very proud of creating such a nice, beautiful lady. 

   - Thank you, Amelia. 

   - Oh ... good morning, Mr. Daniel. - she pipped up and Y/N rolled her eyes, not in the mood to speak with Daniel after last night’s events. He, however, had other plans as he sat right next to her. 

   - Good morning, Y/N. 

   - Good morning, Daniel. - she slid away from him. 

   - Oh c’mon, you’re not gonna sulk at me are you? - he poked her arm with one of the forks that had been laid out to him. - You know I’m sorry.  

    - You’re always sorry but you never actually say it. - Y/N huffed, grabbing her plate from the table and walking up to the sink. Dan sighed, knowing that, despite her being generally a kind and forgiving woman, whenever she was upset, she just remained upset for a while before forgetting it. However, this could take ages. 

Y/N decided she was still not ready to deal with Daniel or any of his opinions towards her view of the people she surrounded herself with. In all honesty, she had no time to worry about him or what he thought of her as her mind was filled with worry towards Sebastian. She knew he was notoriously hard to harm or even shot at however she hadn’t gotten a reply to her call and knew nothing of when he was about to return.

The days passed by and Daniel had managed to somehow get Y/N to get less mad at him by taking her to see his daughter. Sophie had been born while he was at university and Y/N had grown very attached to the little girl as she had been at home with Gwen when she was born. However, not even young Sophie could take her mind away from Sebastian. Her brain had quit making her feel guilty about the fact she had kissed the man who was to marry the only friend she ever knew and had instead turned all its efforts into making her picture all the horrific things that could happen to him. She knew it was reckless and pointless to worry about him, he clearly seemed to be invisible at what he did and part of her pitied the poor unfortunate souls who had dared to shot at him. 

Those days turned into weeks and as the third week hit mark, she was absolutely unconsolable. Gwen was not much help. In actuality, the heiress was rather happy that her fiancé wasn’t around as this gave her plenty of free time to do what she wanted with her newly found interest in her private bodyguard, Christian. Meanwhile, Y/N had taken to spending her days in the kitchen with Amelia and in the library, but not even that could take her mind off if he was alright despite Amelia and Elias constantly telling her it was normal of Sebastian to disappear and then suddenly return. 

Nevertheless, Y/N was anxious about his fate, spending most of the night sat by the window, listening as the rain fell down on the bright city that never slept. This was one of those nights where her fingers lingered on the fogged rainy windows, lightly doodling. This quickly grew tired-some and, wrapped around in one of the very expensive white cashmere blankets Sebastian had placed around the house, she went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mindlessly, like a movement so familiar it didn’t need her attention, Y/N put some almond milk, cinnamon and honey in a pot and brought it up to the heat before taking to slowly mix it with a wooden spoon.

The sound of the bubbling milk and rain was enough to make her feel like every corner of the world was home and as she poured the mixture into a mug, she softly smiled at the overview of New York from the countless amount of ceiling length windows. It almost made her forget her worries. Almost. The heart warming atmosphere was interrupted by the ring of the lift that gave way into the entrance of the penthouse. Y/N turned around abruptly, the sight bringing a sparkle to her eyes. Placing the mug on the first surface she came in contact with, she rushed to the entrance, wrapping her arms around the mob boss as if they had been separated for over 10 years. 

   - Night, angel. - Sebastian was tired and that was noticeable by the dark bags under his eyes and his dishevelled appearance. However, he could surely get used to having Y/N wrap her arms around him every time he came home. Y/N, on the other hand, came to her senses and stepped back, feeling the heat coming to her cheeks. 

    - We were worried about you. - she shifted her weight from feet to feet.

    - Who’s we, angel? I’d gather we would mean you. - his hand traced down her forearm to her hand, softly holding it on his. - I’m sorry I didn’t answer your message, I didn’t want to lie to you as to when I’d be back. Besides, I assumed Gwen would enjoy a holiday from me. 

    - You could’ve said something. - she rubbed the side of her neck, eyes fixated on the ground. - I was worried. 

    - Ah ... - he smirked, taking a step forward. - You were worried. That was what I wanted to hear. 

    - Well, I ... I just wanted to know so I could warn Gwen. I shouldn’t bother you anymore, you must want to rest. I can fix you something to eat if you want. 

    - You’re not the housemaid, Y/N. Although something smells really good in here. 

    -  Oh ... - Y/N rushed into the kitchen, turning off the hob and bringing the pot back to one of the metal bases in the kitchen. - It’s just something me, Gwen, and Dan used to have when we were little and couldn’t sleep. 

   - What’s wrong? - Sebastian noticed the shift in her tone.

   - Do you think I’m clueless? - she leaned onto the kitchen’s wall. 

   - Why do you ask?

   - Dan seems to think I’m clueless. 

   - Daniel Forrest? - he asked and Y/N nodded. - What does he know of the world to make assumptions?

   - He’s sort of right. - Y/N took a place on the chair next to his. - I don’t exactly know what Mr. Forrest or you do, specifically. I don’t even know what you were up to these past weeks. 

   - It’s entirely way too boring besides I’d rather be surrounded by clueless people than the ones I’m surrounded by. You really shouldn’t worry about what he thinks of you. 

  - Do you worry what others think of you?

  - I’ve lived long enough to have certain names hauled at me. Some deserving, some undeserving but I tend not to stress about it. My mother used to say people like to talk about those they can’t be. 

  - Well, if it’s any worth .. I don’t think half the names I’ve heard given to you do actually have any truth to them. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld​ @sarge-barnes-sir @captainchrisstan​

[themadauthorshatter]

TAGATHA! REWORK! PART 3!

Let's GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

We're ignoring Sophie for a little while, she's going to be watching the person she's bossed around and put down get the person Sophie wanted the most.

I digress, Tedros is actively trying more and more to not only be nice to Agatha, but also make her laugh and show that more hidden away Agatha that can laugh, smile, and be happy.

He starts by slipping a flower into the little crook of her ear and bidding her good morning, which turns a lot of heads.

Agatha tries to ignore all this, but does start allowing a chuckle and grin whenever he goofs off or decides to show off, one time actually making her roll her eyes and walk away.

Tedros, however, does everything he can to keep her a little giggly and to gain some more friendship points, helping her in Beautification, giving her tips in Surviving Fairytales, and sitting next to her in lunch.

She does her half, too, helping wherever she can in swird combat, giving him tips on magic, and making sure he doesn't find poisonous mushrooms; she grew up near the the woods and under the care of a witch, she'd know which foods and plants are poisonous.

Their conversations always start off awkward, but are very normal and pretty nice compared to what conversations with Sophie were like; it's good to vent, but it's just better when someone's listening.

They do see each other and talk more about their homes and study together at night, which is great for Tedros, who's started slipping up in his scores after what happened with Sophie and the Trial. Agatha's been doing better because she's been working at her own scores ever since Sophie and Tedros started "dating."

These meetings end in Tedros walking Agatha to her dorm, ever the gentleman, before walking back to his own dorm with a smile on his face; it feels good to have a girl be his friend without worrying about a kiss.

One day in a practice duel with Chaddick, the girls watch and wave their handkerchiefs and cry out for a champion.

Chaddick picks Beatrix; she wanted Tedros to be her champion, but she'll take what she can get.

Tedros decides to flare it up by unsheathing and tossing his sword into the air, letting it flip and spin before catching it and pointing to Agatha.

"Lady Agatha of the Woods Beyond, will you have me as your champion?"

It's over the top, stupid, and show-offy, but, given how much closer they've gotten, Agatha snickers and says yes.

Chaddick, however, ain't having it, which leads to the two arguing as they fight; he's mad that Tedros dated Sophie and almost got himself killed because of it, and now is even more mad because, yes Agatha's not that bad, but for all he knows she could just be saying things fed to her by Sophie, given how Agatha helped her cheat.

Tedros tells him not to worry(the non-paraphrased version is, "Don't be such a sniveling prat, I'm fine!") because he knows now that there was no mistake with the Readers being in what they thought were the wrong schools.

Even though it's a close duel, one full of insults snd arguing between the two friends, Tedros ends up losing because of these words from Chaddick:

"If you really love this one, you wouldn't be fighting so hard! Stop acting like your mothe, if you hate her so much!"

It shakes everyone, even Chaddick and Tedros.

I should note here that Chaddick is not being a Chad Dick, he's just trying to look out for his friend after the whole fiasco with Sophie, where he was confused, almost killed, and tricked into loving her because he thought it was true love.

Tedros gets up, because Chaddick had knocked him down, and puts his sword back in its sheath before walking away, silent as Chaddick tries to apologize.

No one really follows him, Beatrix tries, but Reena holds her back, shaking her head.

Agatha follows him after a little bit, ignoring Chaddick so she can chew him out later, and finds Tedros training in the boy's groom room, climbing the hair ropes.

"Are you okay?"

"Define 'okay.'"

(Agatha puts her hands inher pockets and tenses her shoulders.) "People ...say things to get to you, and they don't mean it most of the time."

(Tedros is silent before he slides down and sits on a bench, Agatha sitting next to him.) "The mates have been acting weird since the trial. They think I'm acting like... like..." (Tedros clenches his fists on his knees and looks away from Agatha.) "Sorry. Do you think you can leave me alone for a little bit?"

Agatha does so and runs into Chaddick in the halls near the classrooms.

He asks where his friend is and Agatha crosses her arms as she asks why he was so mad earlier, as Tedros can love whoever he wants and it shouldn't bother anyone.

The two sit down somewhere, back to back because it avoids eye contact and is less confrontational, and the conversation continues without much yelling.

Chaddick is worried about his friend. He's not the sharpest sword in the armory, so it's easy to screw with his head, as proven by Sophie, and Chaddick wants to make sure he isn't being tricked or lied to out of selfishness. It shot be worth mentioning that anything told to him in Camelot was up front and at face value. It's very easy to lie to Tedros before he figures out something's not right.

Agatha brings up how Tedros is like his mother and asks why he'd hate her; Gavaldon is a Reader village and there are no books talking about AFTER Arthur married Guinevere.

Chaddick's still surprised she doesn't know and spills the beans with some sugar coating, because it's a rough story regardless of how you splice it.

He tells her how Gwen left Arthur, who literally drowned with his sorrows(in my eyes, either his liver gave out or he died of alcohol poisoning), and left Tedros all alone. He may talk a big game, but he's just a kid who wants to be loved by someone for real, not just for a crown or throne or just to say, "Hey, look! The King of Camelot is married to ME!"

Agatha is, rightfully, gut punched by this and is silent as Chaddick admits that he might have been a little rough on him for the last week.

She reassures him he has nothing to worry about, because of the past instances where Tedros had unknowingly chosen her.

Chaddick asked why that was the case, but Agatha claims that she has no idea, though the most plausible she can think of is that they may be true loves.

After a promise from Agatha that she'd never do anything to hurt Tedros, Chaddick thanks her for hearing him out and apologizes for the times he and the others called her a witch, saying that she's not that bad for a Reader.

Tedros is the master of eavesdropping, it would seem, and rounds the corner just as Chaddick does.

The two have a small, awkward conversation, but hug it out, nonetheless.

From here, we get the events from the first book, Agatha's realization that she's always been beautiful, Sophie's attacks on the schools, that scene of Sophie calling Agatha an ugly witch when Tedros saves her, and the circus of talents.

I'll try to add a little bit more in a futrure post, but for now, Imma just leave this here for now😉. I hope you guys enjoyed!!!!

[tabloidtoc]

Star, January 11

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover Story: Hollywood’s Best and Worst Bosses 

Page 1: Shia LaBeouf currently accused of relentless abuse and sexual battery by his ex FKA Twigs was snapped making out with Margaret Qualley after she arrived at LAX for a solid 10 minutes and holding up traffic -- the PDA session was the first time Shia and Margaret who is the daughter of Andie MacDowell were spotted out in public together but the two got well-acquainted a few months ago rolling around naked for a NSFW music video for a song by the actress’ sister Rainey Qualley a.k.a. Rainsford -- Shia went out of his way to charm Margaret as soon as they met and he wooed her with compliments and gifts and flowers and texts and spur-of-the-moment dates where he’d just show up at her house but her friends are concerned because Twigs’ lawsuit against Shia alleges multiple incidents of abuse including choking her in her sleep and knowingly giving her a sexually transmitted disease -- Shia said many of those allegations are not true and he is in a 12-step program and therapy for PTSD and alcoholism

Page 2: Contents, Prince William and Duchess Kate with kids Prince George and Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis for a Christmas card 

Page 3: Candice Swanepoel in a bathing suit in Miami, Jennifer Garner stepped out to run errands in a mask and an expressive sweater in L.A., Ryan Reynolds cuddled up with a puppy to encourage his Instagram followers to donate to the SickKids Foundation 

Page 4: Friends of Johnny Depp are keeping their distance as he gears up for another ugly defamation trial against ex-wife Amber Heard -- after losing the case against a U.K. newspaper that called him a wife beater and a scathing feature in The Hollywood Reporter that dubbed the star radioactive and his career all but dead, former pals want nothing to do with him -- the likes of Jude Law, Leonardo DiCaprio and Channing Tatum have been backpeddling on Johnny and it’s making him furious but to be fair Johnny had already alienated Leo and Channing by calling them Pumpkin Head and Potato Head and accusing them of having affairs with Amber -- Jude’s indifference cuts the deepest because for a time he and Johnny were brothers-in-arms as they filmed the second Fantastic Beasts movie and from Johnny’s perspective Jude hasn’t lifted a finger to defend him 

Page 5: Mossimo Giannulli’s son is speaking out claiming the fashion designer is being treated harshly at California’s Federal Correctional Institution in Lompoc and Gianni Giannulli took to social media to complain that because of the pandemic his dad has been locked in solitary confinement for one full month and is only let out every three days for a few moments to shower and Gianni, Mossimo’s son from an earlier relationship, is irate that his father is being mistreated and he feels sorry for his dad and doesn’t want to see him languishing in prison however his half sisters Bela and Olivia Jade don’t seem too bothered by it

* At age 74 Susan Sarandon has had it with men -- she said she hasn’t really had a large dating career and in fact hasn’t had a guy in five years and it’s not that she can’t get a man, it’s just that the men she attracts are losers or sub-par in some way -- she is happy hanging out in her NYC apartment but still friends can’t help trying to fix her up because she’s attractive and in phenomenal shape but the problem is she scares guys away; she’s a force they can’t handle 

* Two years after sharing her shock diagnosis with multiple sclerosis Selma Blair is struggling with pain and fear -- she was recently spotted getting emotional outside a West Hollywood cannabis shop and she has turned to medical marijuana to soothe symptoms of the chronic immune-system disorder which can include fatigue, spasticity, walking issues, numbness, weakness, vision issues and pain -- on some days she can’t even get out of bed but she’s trying to stay strong for her son Arthur and smile more for him but it’s been hard 

Page 6: Julianne Hough appears to be sweetness and light but she’s a heartbreaker according to her ex Chuck Wicks who split from Julianne in 2009 -- in a revealing podcast Chuck blasted Julianne saying they were both loving life then out of nowhere you find out that they are not the person you thought they were and you break up -- Chuck admitted that he and Julianne agreed to say their split was amicable but it wasn’t fine and it wasn’t his fault

* After holing up at his Oklahoma spread Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani are having a blast decorating their 13,000-square-foot $13.2 million new home in the Encino area of California’s San Fernando Valley -- the home sits on 1.6 ultra-private acres behind double gates and extensive walls and features a pool and fabulous views -- inside the engaged pair give each other space: Gwen wants a dance studio and Blake gets his own man-cave with a big screen and high-tech surround sound 

* Star Spots the Stars -- Nicky Hilton, Katharine McPhee Foster, Katherine Schwarzenegger Pratt making dairy-free and plant-based holiday appetizers, Jenna Dewan, Natalia Dyer

Page 8: Big Losers -- these stars shed pounds and got healthy in 2020 -- Jessica Simpson, Rebel Wilson, Kelly Osbourne 

Page 10: Star Shots -- Gwen Stefani on the way to the recording studio in Santa Monica, Jerry O’Connell started his morning off with a fresh mimosa and a kiss from one of his dogs, Jodie Turner-Smith is the first Black actress to play Henry VIII’s ill-fated queen Anne Boleyn in a major U.K. TV series in Emley, UK 

Page 11: Nick Cannon pitched in to help distribute 2000 free meal boxes to the Hollywood Food Coalition

Page 12: Demi Moore in a yellow bow for a selfie thanking readers for checking out her memoir, Paris Hilton kicked back for a Coach campaign reintroducing the early-2000s ubiquitous Swinger bag

Page 13: Derek Hough and his dogs Romie and Luna, Irina Shayk striking a pose 

Page 14: Sofia Vergara during a photoshoot, Real Housewives of New York City alum Kristen Taekman is taking advantage of the California winter weather in a bikini in Malibu, Wells Adams takes out the trash in L.A. 

Page 16: Carrie Underwood showed off her comfy at-home style, Vanessa Hudgens and her favorite condiment, Katherine Schwarzenegger celebrates her dog’s birthday 

Page 17: Vanderpump Rules star Tom Sandoval picked up a holiday-themed centerpiece ahead of Christmas in L.A., Katie Holmes slung a guitar over her shoulder in NYC, Dame Joan Collins dropped by The Jonathan Ross Show in London 

Page 18: Normal or Not? Hailey Baldwin shares a glimpse into her beauty routine -- normal, Tiger Woods’ son Charlie showed off his skills ahead of the PNC Championship -- normal 

Page 19: Pete Wentz playing tennis in L.A. -- normal, Pete Davidson hurt himself a few times while making a scarf -- not normal 

Page 20: Fashion -- stars charm in romantic ruffles -- Keke Palmer, Gwyneth Paltrow, Lupita Nyong’o 

Page 21: Kirsten Dunst, Halsey 

Page 24: Ariana Grande announced her engagement to realtor Dalton Gomez with some celebratory shots and she’s telling everyone how she never thought it was possible to be this happy -- the couple began dating in early 2020 when Dalton helped Ariana find a home in L.A. and things hit the fast track amid the health pandemic which saw the two enjoying quality time together in lockdown and realizing they were a perfect fit because they never fight and are totally in sync about how they look at life -- Ariana went straight into wedding mode already deciding on an intimate outdoor setting in mid-2021

Page 25: Jon Hamm stepped out in L.A. recently with girlfriend Anna Osceola and she was showing off a noticeably rounder midsection and there’s a good chance the two are pregnant because they’ve been actively trying to get into the family way -- though Jon admitted in 2016 that having children isn’t necessarily an imperative Jon may have changed his tune after his year-long relationship with Anna and hitting the big 5-0 in March has him reassessing his life and now having a child has become important to him 

* Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher will be camping in style now that they’ve purchased a $140K Mercedes Benz Sprinter and they’re preparing to embark on an adventure  -- with sleeping accommodations for four and a kitchen the spacious luxury vehicle is perfect for the couple and their two kids -- other stars can spend their vacations in five-star resorts but Mila and Ashton prefer to keep things alfresco and it’s a tradition they’ve kept all these years; this is their idea of a perfectly fun vacation

Page 26: Cover Story -- Hollywood’s Best and Worst Bosses -- who’s great to work for and who makes employees’ lives a misery -- Jennifer Hudson -- best

Page 27: Jennifer Lopez -- worst, Rihanna -- best, Kenny Chesney -- best, Mariah Carey -- worst, Gwyneth Paltrow -- worst 

Page 28: Keanu Reeves -- best, Sandra Bullock -- best, Emma Watson -- worst 

Page 29: George Clooney -- best, Ellen DeGeneres -- worst, Guess the Bad Boss 

Page 30: Tom Cruise and Hayley Atwell: Man on a Mission -- amid all the tension on the set of Mission: Impossible 7 Tom has been pursuing his costar Hayley to be his next girlfriend and it seems to be working -- Tom has become very active with the U.K. Scientology Branch and is very taken with English women like Hayley and he’d like to make the U.K. his home base -- handcuffed to each other for several scenes in M:I7 Hayley and Tom were also spotted holding hands when the cameras weren’t rolling 

Page 32: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s very L.A. Christmas -- the prince spends the holidays 5000 miles away from the royal family but Meghan’s mom Doria Ragland was on hand for the festivities -- the couple were intending to call Queen Elizabeth on Christmas morning otherwise they were happy to celebrate a low-key holiday 

Page 38: Entertainment 

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Sophie Turner and Joe Jonas suited up to hit the slopes stopping by a local store to pick up goodies before changing into warmer gear in Mammoth Lakes in California -- the couple are familiar faces in the ski town and looking forward they will be able to plan even more snowy getaways now that they’ve listed their NYC apartment for $5.9 million and moved full-time to Encino 

[tomhiddlestonfanfic]

A Step Too Far? Chapter Nine A Moon of My Own

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 - Ch. 9 - Ch. 10 - Ch. 11

TITLE: A Step Too Far? NUMBER OF CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: 9/? WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Stepfather Tom OTHER CHARACTERS: Benedict Cumberbatch, Andrew Scott PAIRING: Tom/OFC, Benedict Cumberbatch/OFC GENRE: Drama, Hurt/Comfort WARNINGS: Spanking, Infidelity, Sex

CHAPTER NINE A Moon of My Own

Nina spent the weekend at home, bonding with baby William. She sang swedish songs to him and found that Tom was listening intently, trying to understand the lyrics. She ended up translating for him and teaching him swedish nursery rhymes and pop songs.

"I want a moon of my own, that I can go to, and forget that you left me. I can sit on my moon, and do whatever I want, I'll stay there until everything's alright," Nina translated one of her mother's favourite songs for Tom.

"Thank you for translating," Tom told her with a warm smile.

"No problem," Nina replied and continued to sing for her baby brother. "Jag är fattig bonddräng men jag lever ändå…"

"What was that song about?" Tom asked curiously from the sofa where he was laying down and watching her interactions with the baby.

"It's about a poor farmer boy who works hard everyday," Nina explained. "He gets drunk on Saturdays, gets into fights and sleeps with women. On Sundays he sleeps instead of going to church. Then the work week begins again. Eventually he dies and stands before God, regretful of his sins. But God forgives him and welcomes him into heaven."

"Is that really a children's song?" Tom questioned amusedly.

"The farm boy sings it in 'Emil i Lönneberga', so it’s sort of a children's song, I guess. Or maybe it's meant for the grown ups watching with their children," Nina replied. "It's written by Astrid Lindgren, so it’s for everyone."

"I see. I appreciate the existential theme," Tom told her.

"Me too," Nina agreed and smiled at him. She realised that she enjoyed spending time in his company. Things had become different between them ever since they started working together. She felt like she knew him a bit better now, and ever since he became a father, she had seen a more sensitive side of him. He had expressed his worry for her in more tactful ways and they hadn't been arguing as much as they used to do.

“You’ve spent most weekends at home lately, is something up?” Nina’s mother asked her during dinner.

“I’ve just been tired from work, so I haven’t really felt like doing anything on the weekends,” Nina replied with a shrug.

“Perhaps you should work fewer hours if work is making you so tired,” Helena suggested, looking a bit concerned as she gently caressed her daughter’s cheek. “She could do that, right Tom?”

“I’ve already offered that,” Tom replied, also assuming a look of concern as he looked at Nina. “The offer still stands.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Nina insisted.

“But you don’t seem to have any energy left for your friends,” Helena objected.

“Isn’t that what life is like as a grown up? All work, no play, and then you die?” Nina questioned gloomily.

“Nina, are you getting depressed again? Are you taking your medications?” Helena asked concernedly.

Nina sighed heavily in response. “I can’t recall ever becoming undepressed,” she muttered and got up from the dinner table, grabbing her plate and glass. “Thanks for the food.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom replied as she left the dining room.

Nina threw away the rest of the food and placed the dishes in the dishwasher before heading to the fridge, grabbing another one of her precious energy drinks. At least they presented her with some joy in her quite lonely life. She would occassionally call Jim over for sex, but other than that, she spent most of her time alone. Nina’s loneliness had been a source of concern for her mother for many years. It had even gotten to the point that Nina sometimes went out for hour long walks, telling her mother that she was seeing a friend. She had done that a lot during the summer, taking a book with her to sit and read by the sea. Her favourite book was one that Tom had gifted her for her nineteenth birthday. It was called The Stranger and was about the absurdity of life and the feeling of alienation. Nina felt alienated a lot of the time, as though she did not belong anywhere in this world.

During the evening, Tom came by her room to check on her.

“Can I come in?” he requested and Nina nodded at him as she sat up in her bed, putting her laptop aside. “We worry about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Nina told him, pulling her knees up to her chest, hugging them.

“You seem... lonely,” Tom said carefully.

“I need to be alone a lot,” Nina told him. “Being around people takes a lot of energy.”

“Then maybe you should work shorter hours, so you have energy to do fun things with friends and not only work,” Tom suggested. Nina snorted in response.

“What friends?” she asked.

“How about the one you spent a lot of time with this summer? Viktoria?” Tom said.

“Viktoria is not real,” Nina admitted.

“What?” Tom asked confusedly.

“I made her up so mom wouldn’t worry so much about me being alone,” she explained.

“But you were away for hours at a time, sometimes all day and sometimes all night,” Tom said frowningly.

“Yeah, it was kind of fun actually, how you never figured it out when you never got to meet her,” Nina told him with a sad smile. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? Making up imaginary friends when you’re twenty? And still living with your mother because you’re too afraid of what you would do to yourself if you had to live alone?” she confided in him.

“It’s not pathetic,” Tom said earnestly and put an arm around her shoulders. “I had no idea you were feeling that way. I thought you lived with your mom because you were comfortable that way, not because you were afraid to live alone.”

“Please don’t tell mom about this. I’ve told her that Viktoria moved to Stockholm, so please don’t tell her that she never even existed. She was so happy when she thought I had a best friend,” Nina pleaded.

“I won’t tell her. But I think you need to see someone about this. Didn’t you have a psychologist?” Tom asked.

“It didn’t work out between us, so I stopped going,” Nina reminded him.

“Right,” Tom remembered. “How about finding you a new one. I’ll be more than happy to pay for it.”

“You don’t have to pay for it,” Nina told him. “You gave me a job, remember? I can pay for therapy myself now. Especially as I’m living here for free.”

“I want you to save your money for the future or use them to have fun. I’m paying for your therapy,” Tom insisted.

“I never even agreed that I would go see a therapist,” Nina said.

“Please, see a therapist. It would give your mother and I some peace of mind to know that you have someone to talk to about those things,” Tom pleaded.

“I'll think about it,” Nina told him.

“Thank you,” Tom said with an appreciative smile.

The weekend passed and it was soon Monday again. Nina looked up to see Benedict standing by her desk. He didn’t look pleased. He was probably still upset by the fact that she had spied on him and his family.

“I would like to have a word with you in my office, miss Andersson,” he requested calmly, seemingly holding back on his anger. Nina looked up at him defiantly.

“How about no?” she told him irritably. She didn’t want to be alone with him, because she would probably end up almost having sex with him.

“No?” he questioned incredulously and leaned down over the desk, so that their faces were just decimetres away from each other. She could feel the smell of his cologne and felt an involuntary thrill of excitement run through her body as she looked him in his darkened eyes. “My office now,” he told her firmly in a low voice.

“Fine,” Nina finally agreed, afraid that Benedict would make a scene otherwise. He looked like he could barely contain his anger. She glanced over her shoulder at her colleagues as she followed him to his office. They all seemed busy doing their jobs, not taking notice of what was going on between her and Benedict. She felt relieved. It would be embarrassing if they thought she made major work related mistakes that would have one of her bosses get angry with her. While she had made a major mistake, at least it was not work related.

Benedict shut the curtain and locked the door, just like he had done preceding week. Nina swallowed nervously. Was he going to beat her again? She knew she would agree to it, even if she wished she would have had the integrity and self-respect to tell him no.

"What the hell were you thinking sneaking around my house?" he demanded angrily. "What if Sophie had seen you?"

"Then you would probably be able to come up with a good lie to explain my presence. Because it comes naturally to you, doesn't it? Lying," Nina told him bitterly.

"I hate lying to my wife," Benedict told her. "I already told you that."

"Then don't give yourself any reasons to lie," she replied.

He approached her angrily and Nina found herself slapping him hard across the face. He looked at her in astonishment for a brief moment, then grabbed her by the arm dragging her with him towards the desk. Nina felt herself grow moist between the legs and a tingling sensation in her lower abdomen as he bent her over the desk. She shut her eyes tightly as he pressed her face down against the desk surface and she bit her lip hard as she braced herself for the pain to come. Benedict slapped her bottom hard with his hand several times, before undoing his belt. This time, he waited between the lashes for Nina to recover before landing the next one across her buttocks. Nina whimpered slightly as she neared her limit and he stopped hitting her with the belt. He roughly grabbed her ass, squeezing it with his hands before rolling up her tight pencil skirt over her hips. Nina gasped as he unexpectedly ripped her tights open in the groin and put his hand between her thighs.

“You naughty girl,” he told her as he felt how wet she was. He touched her, moved the thong to the side and entered her with two fingers at a time. He fingerfucked her until he felt her convulse around him, she was shuddering with pleasure and panting heavily. “Did you come?” he asked smirkingly as she stood up and turned around towards him. She put her arms around his neck and brought him into a kiss. They made out and she began to feel horny again. She touched his erect penis through his trousers and stroked it eagerly.

“Fuck me,” she whispered lustfully into his ear. She didn’t need to ask twice. Benedict lifted her up on the desk, undid his black trousers and released his erect penis. Nina smiled satisfiedly at the sight of it before it entered her. “Fuck me hard,” she requested, and he did. She had to bite her lip hard to suppress a loud moan as he fucked her quickly. She orgasmed again and he pulled out of her.

“On your knees,” he ordered, his voice demanding and his eyes darkened with lust. Nina fell to her knees before him and viciously smiled up at him. “Open your mouth,” he said and she quickly obeyed. She felt like a porn star as he ejaculated into her mouth. “Swallow,” Benedict said, but she grimaced in disgust and shook her head at him as she got up to spit out his cum into his coffee cup.

“Oh, you naughty girl,” Benedict commented with a grin as he watched her trying to make herself look presentable.

“How’s my makeup?” she asked him and he looked at her closely before running his thumbs underneath her eyes, wiping away some mascara.

“Did you cry?” he asked her surprisedly as he continued to gently wipe mascara from her cheeks.

“A little bit,” Nina admitted with a shrug and managed to smile at him. The guilt had overwhelmed her the moment she orgasmed for the second time.

“Your makeup probably needs some touch ups, but it looks fine,” Benedict told her as he pulled out his wallet from his pocket. He took out a thousand krona bill and handed it to her. “For a morning-after pill,” he explained as she looked at him confusedly. “I think I might have come a little bit inside of you.”

“You’re making me feel like a cheap whore,” Nina muttered, but accepted the money. Benedict pulled out a couple of more bills from his wallet and tried giving them to her. “No thanks,” she told him and refused to take the money.

“Do you promise you will take a morning-after pill?” he asked her as she turned to leave.

“Of course, I don’t want a child with someone like you,” Nina told him irritably.

“Don’t forget to take the coffee cup with you,” Benedict reminded her with a smirk. Nina angrily went back towards his desk and grabbed the coffee cup, before stalking out of his office. What the hell had she just done?

Nina went into the kitchen and angrily threw the coffee cup into the trash. She then proceeded to kick the trash can until a familiar voice interrupted her.

“Did mister Cumberbatch yell at you again?” Stina asked concernedly.

“He did,” Nina replied, her eyes filling up with tears. Stina went up to her and hugged her.

“I’m sorry that he’s being such an ass to you,” Stina told her sympathetically. “If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”

“Thank you, Stina,” Nina told her appreciatively and tightened the hug. They stood like that for a long moment until another colleague entered the kitchen.

“Nina, what’s the company’s policy on workplace relationships?” Erik asked her provocatively. He must have somehow heard about their date.

“It’s fine, as long as you’re keeping it professional at work,” Nina told him as she stepped away from Stina.

“That didn’t look very professional to me,” Erik told her.

“It was just a hug, Erik,” Stina told him and smiled carefreely at him. “I can give you one too, if you like,” she offered cheerfully. “You look like you could use one.”

“No thanks,” Erik said with a grimace and hurriedly left the kitchen.

Nina and Stina shared amused looks before heading back to work.

Nina felt weighed down by guilt for what she had done, but somehow managed to get through the workday. Benedict cheerfully told her goodbye before heading homewards and she replied with an exaggeratedly gleeful ‘see you tomorrow!’ Her smile faded the moment he turned away from her and was replaced by a dark glare.

“What are you glaring at Ben for?” Andrew asked her curiously and she flinched. She hadn’t noticed him standing there a few metres away, watching her interaction with Benedict. “Did something happen?”

“He yelled at me,” Nina said and noticed Stina looking at them from a distance. She couldn’t exactly tell Andrew the truth, now could she? She felt like she wanted to come clean to someone about it, but didn’t know who.

“What for?” Andrew asked and Nina searched her mind for some error she could have made that would make Benedict yell at her.

“I misspelled his name in an important mail,” she lied. “I wrote Cucumberbatch and he found it humiliating.” She couldn’t help but smile at her own lie. Andrew returned her smile.

“I see,” he said amusedly. “I could talk to him about treating you more gently, if you like,” he offered, but Nina shook her head at him in response.

“I’m fine. Now that it’s over, I do find it kind of funny,” she assured him with a genuinely bright smile. She wanted so badly to believe her own lie. How great it would have been if only it had been true.

But it wasn’t true. On the way home, Tom put on her mother’s favourite song about wanting a moon of your own to go to and stay there until everything was alright again. Nina’s filled with tears as she thought about how she just wanted to escape somewhere far away from everything. She wanted a moon of her own to go to.

“Are you alright?” Tom asked her concernedly.

“Yes, I was just thinking about Ted,” Nina told him.

“Ted Gärdestad? Who sings the song?” Tom asked her.

“Yeah. I was thinking about how beautifully he sang and how sadly he died. He killed himself,” Nina told him sadly.

“That’s very tragic,” Tom replied seriously and threw her concerned looks for the rest of the car ride home.

“I’m going for a walk,” Nina informed her mother and Tom after taking a shower and getting dressed into a pair of jeans and a David Bowie t-shirt.

“But dinner is almost ready,” her mother objected.

“I’ll eat when I get back,” Nina assured her and put her shoes and jacket on. Tom took out the trash bags out of the kitchen bins and put on a pair of slippers, following her out.

“Nina,” he said as they reached the bins outside the house. She turned around to look at him. He had a concerned look on his face. “You’re not thinking about doing something rash, are you?” he asked her seriously. Nina frowned slightly and then remembered their conversation in the car earlier.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself, if that’s what you’re talking about,” she told him frankly.

“Good,” Tom replied with a brief smile. His blue eyes still conveyed concern. “Don’t be too long or we’ll get worried.”

“I’m twenty years old,” Nina reminded him. “Not a kid, I can look after myself.”

“I know. But I still want you to be careful and not stay out too long,” Tom insisted. “Remember that you have work tomorrow.”

“I know. See you in a bit,” Nina told him.

Nina just kept walking as she listened to music and tried not to think too much about what was weighing her down. Eventually, she sat down by a lake and looked at the full moon in the sky. Its light was mirrored by the water surface of the lake and she found it breathtakingly beautiful. She turned off the music on her phone and sang softly to herself where she sat on the rocks. She sang the song about the moon as tears rolled down her face. She imagined what Ted must have felt like during his last moments of life and was filled by death agony. She put her phone and headphones down on the rocks before standing up. She looked at the water surface and dived into the cold water with her clothes on. As she reached the surface, Nina gasped at how cold it was and swam back up to the rocks where she climbed up and grabbed her phone.

She was shuddering with cold as she walked back home in soaking wet clothes. As she got inside, Tom came to greet her in the hallway and looked at her in shock.

“What happened?” he asked frowningly.

“I fell,” Nina lied.

“Should I put your phone in a bag of rice?” he offered.

“The phone is fine,” Nina told him. Tom looked at her suspiciously.

“You didn’t fall, did you?” he asked frankly. Nina shrugged at him. “I asked you not to do anything rash.”

“It wasn’t rash, I spared my phone and headphones,” Nina objected.

“Your lips are blue. Come, let’s go down to the basement so your mother doesn’t see you like this,” Tom told her, putting a gentle arm around her shoulder as he walked her down to the basement. “Clothes off and step in the shower, I’ll get you some dry clothes,” he instructed and respectfully turned away as Nina immodestly began to take her clothes off in front of him. She wasn’t trying to seduce him or anything, she was just too cold to care if he saw her naked body.

Nina took a hot shower and smiled sadly to herself as she found a towel and clothes laid out for her. Tom was always being so nice and gentle towards her. For once she felt grateful that he was a little bit boring and not more like Benedict. She realised that she would never be able to live with the guilt if she managed to get Tom to be unfaithful to her mother. She got dressed and went upstairs to find Tom on the sofa in the living room. She walked up to him and smiled.

“Thank you for being so boring,” she told him, causing him to laugh surprisedly.

“I don’t think I’m that boring,” he objected as she sat down in the armchair next to the sofa.

“You’re just the right amount of boring,” Nina said. “I mean it as a compliment.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Tom told her amusedly. “You seem a bit happier now.”

“I am,” Nina told him with a smile.

[im-gay-and-mentally-unstable]

~Vampire! Nicphie Au~

Sophie was bored. Not in the way she felt most of the time, the curse of being centuries old, she was horrendously, unexplainably, unorthodoxly bored. She wanted to scream, to destroy, to set fire to her mansion and never look back, to do something that wasn't so plain and mundane. Instead, she sat next to the window in her bedroom, nails tapping on the surface. As she watched the pouring rain, quickly turning into a storm, she wished for a miracle.

Where were the good old days? She yearned for them. The rush, the pretence, the intrigue, the bloodshed. Life now was, to the liking of the ordinary folk, more peaceful. And she detested it. Blood and death had their magnetism. She didn't expect their simple little brains to comprehend it, of course.

But there were days where she was worshipped as a goddess. People brought her their treasures just for the price of a small smile, she seduced monarchs, then drained them of blood and left with their finest jewellery. And now she was forgotten, a mere monster in the face of mortals.

It was just her and the stupid, dilapidating mansion she spent all her time stuck in. She had to lower herself to drinking the utterly disgusting animal blood, since the hunt for prey became too dangerous. To her misfortune, people didn't just come to her gates and wait to get slaughtered.

Well, they usually didn't. But now, the universe has listened to her pleas and sent her a fun thing to play with. Before her door stood a woman, tall and muscular, curiously inspecting the Victorian architecture of the house.

Sophie's expression brightened, she was delighted by the turn of events. She almost jumped to her feet in anticipation of a feast, but then stopped herself and regained her dignity and composure. “Just nice and easy darling, you can't scare her away,” she told herself as she reapplied her lipstick and fixed her hair and graciously came down the stairs. She was sure she was a sight to behold, even though she's never seen herself in mirrors.

As she opened the front door, the woman didn't seem to be bothered even a slightest bit.

“Well hello darling, may I ask what are you doing here?” asked Sophie, trying to make her voice as pleasant as possible.

“Trying not to get hit by a lightening,” said the woman sarcastically.

“A truly spectacular idea. I was thinking about why are you on my porch though.”

“Oh. Of course. I can leave if you want me to, I just assumed this house was abandoned. I wanted to hide from the storm.”

“Why don't you come inside? It's too cold for you here.”

She hesitated, but then gratefully accepted the invite, she was already soaking and shivering.

“Don't worry, darling, I don't bite,” said Sophie, smirking at her own joke.

Sophie finally managed to get a good look on her as she took off her coat and hat. She forgot just how mesmerizing humans were. How soft her skin looked to touch, how lively and gleaming her eyes were, how she smelled like black coffee and old books...

No. Not all humans were quite as charming, that was for sure. She hoped her blood would taste at least half as good as she smelled like.

She wanted to try already, but she contained herself. All the good things need time, right?

“So, what's your name, darling?”

“Nicola.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I'm Sophie. Would you like some tea?”

“Isn't it too late for tea?”

“That's where you are mistaken, it's never too late for tea.”

“Really, I don't want to cause you any trouble.”

“Oh no, don't worry, it's a pleasure to have a visitor. I'm quite lonely here.”

Nicola already wasn't paying attention to her, she was curiously inspecting Sopie's long time collection of books and paintings, most of them centuries old. She definitely was going to stay for a while.

Sophie guided her to the dining hall, also used as a ballroom before, in its long-gone glorious times, and let her seat herself as she walked into the kitchen. The shrivelled, old silhouette of her servant stood there, his face blank and eyes empty. He was the only one now, before, she had plenty of them, ready to make her tiniest frivolous wishes come true, but they were gone now, died of having too much of their blood removed or old age.

“Make us some tea, will you?”

The man nodded.

“Good.” Sophie already begun walking away. Just looking at him disgusted her, she despised old people, she always did, maybe because she was eternally young and beautiful and was scared of being like them one day. But there was no way she would and it kept her satisfied.

When she came back, Nicola was inspecting the gramophone Sophie kept at one of her shelves.

“It's a bit dusty but it still should work,” she nonchalantly commented. The other woman turned, surprised by the lack of noise Sophie made.

“I would be surprised. It would need some serious fixing, it was maintained terribly and it shows.”

“Nonsense, it works just fine,” said Sophie and tried to turn it on, but then failed.

“See?”

And then Sophie slapped it and surprisingly, it started playing. Nicola almost choked at the sight. “You're not supposed to do that.”

“But it worked, so I see no problem.”

“You could have damaged it beyond repair, do you have any idea how much this stuff costs-”

Sophie chuckled. “I bought it. “

“Well, but you still shouldn't be so careless, it's a true rarity-”

“It sure is,” interrupted Sophie, not seeing anything important about it. But then she had an idea. She smiled and asked: “Would you spare me a dance?”

“I don't dance.”

“Truly a pity. Come on, just one quick round,” Sophie gave her the most charming and adorable smile she could manage. And Nicola reluctantly agreed.

Dancing was the room's purpose. It was made for this, even after years of waiting to fulfil its cause. The notes filled the perfectly acoustical room. The pure sound was only interrupted by their footsteps and quit banter.

Sophie couldn't wait for the next part of the evening, her personal favourite. The hunt. All of her body was aching to finally enjoy some tasty food, but she stayed patient. Her visitor was quite a pleasant company and she hasn't danced in years and she preferred giving her victims false sense of safety.

As the song was getting to its climax, they were getting nearer each other, their bodies intertwined. Sophie could feel her heath, the warmth and the softness of her skin, her strong, gentle arms around her waist, her breath so close to her face.

And Sophie realised how striking she was. What a waste is it going to be when she is going to be drained to a bloodless shell, left to die, long before fulfilling all her dreams and goals. Maybe if she lived longer, she could have been captured into a painting or a sculpture, just like the ones that Sophie loved so much to collect. Maybe she would make a good servant... Sophie quickly dismissed the thought.

She enjoyed her being so close and Nicola seemed to feel the same way. Suddenly, she was painfully aware of every place their bodies touched. What was the last time she felt like this? Was it even this century?

As the last notes were played, their lips collided, both leaning in at the same time with the same intention. As their lips touched, Nicola just closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment for a while. And everything seemed fine for a while, just like things were meant to be this way.

But then she remembered the odd, otherworldly cold and the sharpness of her teeth and against her brain's wishes, she pulled away.

“You're a vampire,” she remarked.

“Of course I am, darling. You aren't surprised? That's unfortunate, I didn't want to spoil the fun so soon. So, I suppose you aren't in for another dance? Ah, a shame, really. Now, would you mind if we skipped the formalities and went straight to the part where I make you my dinner? No? Ah, you don't want to die, do you?” Sophie scoffed. “Well, of course, you can try to run away. I'll give you a headstart, how kind of me, don't you think? Go on darling, I don't have all day. One...”

She let go of her and Nicola trailed off, disappearing behind the numerous corridors. Sophie counted to ten loudly, enjoy the way each word rolled from her tongue. She wasn't in a hurry. If she ran after her, it would be no fun, no mortal could ever equal to a vampire. And of course, running in high heels would be too bothersome.

So instead, she strolled slowly, enjoying her inevitable victory. Oh, how she missed this. The joy running through her veins, keeping her wide awake...

She walked behind the first corridor, not expecting Nicola to be there. The thrown knife caught her by surprise. It missed only by millimetres. Nicola lurked in the shadows, waiting for her. Her eyes lacked any trace of warmth or mercy.

“What? You thought I would go down without a fight?”

Another knife flew at Sophie. The shot was deadly and precise. She certainly knew what she was doing.

“You're going to have to try little harder than that.”

Another knife Sophie barely had time to dodge. Her irritation grew with every second. She didn't play games she wasn't sure she could win. And this was one of them.

“I've come prepared for you. I mean, I came here specifically for you. Do you honestly think I just came to your door by chance? I don't want to spoil the surprise for you, but people actually notice if you don't wear anything other than Victorian gowns and avoid going outside at day.”

A vampire hunter then. Words can't describe the way Sophie despised their kind.

“What? You are not so brave now the tables have turned? Or are you just not used to people at your level?”

Sophie scoffed and recomposed herself after barely dodging another knife, puzzled by where did she hide them all. “The fact that you consider yourself my equal amuses me. Well, about the time I actually put in a bit of effort, don't you think?”

She ran at Nicola. With one slash, she was going to rip her throat. It would have worked on almost everyone. But Nicola dodged and caught her hand and spined. Sophie unwillingly ended up pushed against the wall. Instantly, her arm shot up to Nicola's neck. The only thing stopping her from ending it was another knife, pushed against her chest, one stab away from her heart.

“This is quite unfortunate. What now? Do we kill each other?” stated Sophie calmly, fully aware of the checkmate situation they were in.

“That's pretty pointless, don't you think?”

“I'm not too keen on dying either.”

“Great, so let me go,” said Nicola.

“And what will stop you from killing me?”

“And if I wanted to, I'd have a full right to do so. You've murdered innocent people.”

“And what makes you think the vampires you've murdered weren't innocent?”

“You drink people's blood.”

“You eat animals. There's no difference.”

“I'm vegetarian.”

“That's your personal choice. I can't survive without blood.”

“Can't you survive on animal blood?”

“Listen, this is quite a tough moral debate to have and I'd rather not have it while being pressed to a wall with a knife this close.”

“I can't let you go.”

“Oh, am I that irresistible?”

“That's not what I m-”

Sophie leaned in closer, her lips almost touching Nicola's ear. “Really?”

“Yes. I don't want you shredding me to pieces the second you let go of me.”

“You don't trust me? You're very right not to do so, but my feelings are still hurt.”

Nicola sighed. “So, are we going to stay like this forever?”

“Just until you give up.”

“Just say forever then.”

“Why don't we spice things up a little then?”

“What-” The rest of the sentence was cut off after Sophie kissed her.

After a long time of trying to figure out who takes the lead, they had to breathe, well, Nicola had to breathe. “Maybe I'm staying for a cup of tea. Or two,” whispered Nicola between gasps for breath.

Sophie smirked and nodded, pulling her closer yet again. She was going to keep this one for a while.

[knovesstorytelling]

Murray Mysteries S1E3 Transcript

Episode 3. Dr Seward’s Clinical Hour

Written By May Toudic

Mina: Welcome to Murray Mysteries.

[Theme music plays.]

Mina: Hello everyone! And welcome back to the podcast. Today’s episode is something a little bit different. I promised variety, entertainment, and a healthy amount of educational content. So, we are branching out. I’m here with Dr. Jane Seward, who agreed to tell us about her job as a clinical psychiatrist and share some of her case notes with us.

Jane: Thank you for having me, Miss Murray. It’s a pleasure to be here. 

Mina: Thank you for coming. I know this can’t have been the most, um, comfortable location for us. First of all, how did you end up running a whole mental health institution at such a young age?

Jane: Oh, I, I guess I got lucky. I did quite a few internships during my degree, including at the institution I currently work at. They offered me a residency after graduation and then a permanent job. The previous director left soon after that and he offered me his position.

Mina: You must’ve done an amazing job to climb the ranks so quickly. I assume junior members of the staff usually aren’t a first pick for a job like this.

Jane: I do my best, but I wasn’t any more deserving than any of my colleagues.

Mina: Okay.

[She hums in thought.]

Mina: Now, can you tell us what your job entails exactly?

Jane: Mostly administrative tasks. The day to day running of an institution like this one requires a lot of paperwork. But I do get to take on a few patients to keep my skills sharp and conduct my research.

Mina: Wha— what kind of research?

Jane: I’m generally assigned to cases that can’t easily be diagnosed with anything in the handbook. I have a patient at the moment — oh, uh, you want to play the recordings?

Mina: If you don’t mind. Listeners, the very organized Dr. Seward has agreed to share some of the voice notes she takes on the job to keep track of her cases. We’ll still be here to interject if anything needs explaining, but for now, take it away Past Doctor.

[A beep.]

Jane (recording): Right. New patient in today, and a promising case. I’ll call him R in here for confidentiality purposes. Late 50’s, impressive physical strength, very excitable with periods of depression and some fixation we haven’t managed to pinpoint yet.

[A beep.]

Jane: R has been with us for a few days now and I’ve had the chance to get to know his case better. He displays signs of a few known disorders, but his symptoms are peculiar. He’s obsessed with animals, started collecting insects he found in his room and common areas. Spiders mostly. Some flies, even a few birds. He uses a lot of his own food to keep them alive, even if we upped his portions, so we’re somewhat worried about his nutrition. Although it seems like he’s, um. Eating some of them. Escalation is a concern in this case, especially since he’s started requesting other pets. He keeps asking for a cat, which we of course had to refuse. We’ll see how the situation evolves in the coming days, but this is an interesting case. Zoophagia, some kind of fixation, I need to do more research. There must’ve been a similar case somewhere, sometime. But if this hasn’t been documented yet, this could be big. Right, to the books.

[A beep.]

Mina: That is fascinating. Do you already have a diagnosis in mind?

Jane: There are a few possibilities, but I don’t want to favour a particular one until we have more information. I’m hopeful we can diagnosis in due time. It’s easier to treat a condition when we know what we’re treating.

Mina: Um. What happens if, uh, if it isn’t a known condition?

Jane: In the unlikely case this is something new, I do research. More research, and more research on top of that. Take a lot of notes, ask for a second opinion, then a third. Then I write a very long paper, have it peer-reviewed, and submit it to many, many, many academic journals.

Mina: That sounds like a lot of work. But, it would be rewarding, right?

Jane: A new illness is quite an important discovery, yes. But the well-being of the patient comes first, and the best thing for him would be to get diagnosed and treated for something that has a precedent.

Mina: Of course. Well. Ah, this has been a great talk! I’d love for you to come back and keep us updated if that’s okay with you.

Jane: Hem, yes. Yes, why not. I, I just.

Mina: Ah. I’ll make sure Lucy’s out.

Jane: Thank you.

Mina: Well, this was clinical hour with Dr. Jane Seward. Tune in next time for an update on R’s mysterious condition.

Jane: Oh, um. Goodbye!

[Jane leaves the room.]

Mina: I hope you all enjoyed that because this week’s personal update isn’t the cheeriest. Sorry. I know, I promised you, uh. Fun and entertainment. I just—

[She sighs.]

Mina: I’m worried. Talking to you makes me feel a little less... Alone. Like I’m not just, talking into the void. The past few days have been complicated. I haven’t heard from Jonathan in a while. At first, I figured he has no reception. The place he was headed to was in the middle of nowhere, so we figured this might happen. But. I still got nervous after days without signs of life. So I reached out to the boss at his firm, Mr. Hawkins, uh, to see if he knew anything. But he told me he just received an email from Jonathan saying he was leaving his client’s place. Just one line. No time frame, no flight details. Nothing.

[She sighs again.]

Mina: It’s not like, it’s not like J, I swear it’s not. He’s usually open and communicative. First Christmas after we got together, he went home to see his family and kept texting me about every single part of his day. When he woke up, what he dreamt about, what he had for breakfast, what the weather was like, what presents he’d found for his third cousin and the food—

Mina (laughingly): Oh God, so many food pictures.

Mina: Anyway. I tried to ignore it and, uh. Just wait for him to get back. But it’s been a few days now. And no matter how I think about it, there’s no way it would take that long to get from the Romania to UK. Mr. Hawkins hasn’t heard from him either, not since that one email. I keep thinking something’s happened to him. I get this… feeling of dread every time the phone rings.

[She lets out a quiet breath.]

Mina: I would normally talk to Lucy about this, she’s great at talking me out of a crisis, but she hasn’t been herself either. She’s sleepwalking almost every night. Her mum says it used to happen when she was a kid, but definitely not that much. We agreed to keep her bedroom door locked at night. I sleep in here with her so I can keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t try and get out. But that means I keep getting woken up by her moving around and I’m not sleeping much. Lucy’s mum thinks all the sleepwalkers gravitate towards roofs and cliffs and end up falling to their deaths. So far, Lucy’s only been wandering through the house and raiding the fridge, but uh. Better safe than sorry? 

Mina: She’s even more angsty than usual too. Art had to fly to the US, their dad’s not doing great, so she’s been dragging me into her schemes and making herself busy. If I have to spend one more night watching her do shots at the village pub, I might lock her in during the day. No, no I feel bad just saying it. But, come on! Even jigsaw puzzles aren’t worth all this. Especially not when she keeps getting distracted and sending Art pictures of the funny shapes. 

[A pause.]

Mina: The weather’s turning, I should— I should go check on her. I promise the next update will be more fun. I’ll do cartwheels or something.

Mina (whispering): Wait, no, you can’t see me.

Mina: Um, verbal cartwheels? I’ll— I’ll do those? Ugh. I’ll talk to you next week, when I’ve had time to figure out what verbal cartwheels are and how to do them. Bye!

[Theme music begins]

Credits: Murray Mysteries is a Knoves Storytelling production. This episode was written and produced by May Toudic and featured Drew Victorie as Mina Murray and Bebhinn Tankard as Dr. Jane Seward. Original music by Sophie K. Thank you for listening.

[ravenbrenna09]

we’ve been through a lot of things, you and me - chapter 2

AO3

...

Hello, everyone!

We've made it to the second chapter of the we've been through a lot of things, you and me! Thank you guy so much for the positive reactions to this story, especially this trope which is near and dear to my heart. Hopefully, by the time that you guys are seeing this, I'll have a significant portion of chapter three completed! If not, then, oh well. I'm hoping to get a couple of things stockpiled because I will be taking the month of April off, Sobbe wise, to focus on my other story (for real, this time). But, we'll see how that goes because I love hearing from you all.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!!

Note: this is just the first scene that I already posted so if you’ve already read it, go straight to AO3!

...

Three Years Later

The sand shifted beneath his feet, stepping one foot in front of the other. Sander could hear the laughter of his friends, Val talking about Sophie’s work and Senne laughing with one arm wrapped around Noor’s shoulder, but he was one step ahead of them, the camera held up to his face. He was taking pictures of any and everything. His friends, their smiles, the families and the children running around. Sander had loved being able to capture the world around him and he wasn’t about to stop now that his friends had managed to drag him away to a beach vacation, one final hurrah before they graduated in the spring and charted off to the workforce.

“Get any good pictures, Sander,” Senne questioned, patting his shoulder. His best friend pulled him beneath his other arm, a hard thing to manage because Sander had stopped being shorter than Senne in their first year of high school, but Sander hunched over to make it a little easier for him. Senne stared down his camera, at the portraits that he had captured on their walk back from the carnival at the pier, the sights in this small covered beach town. “You’re going to run out of room on your memory card before we’re even here a day!”

“Bold of you to assume that I didn’t bring my laptop,” Sander remarked. 

“Or his backup memory card,” Noor replied, her black hair pulled back on the nape of her neck. 

“Or his backup memory card for the backup,” Val remarked, his blond hair twisted into a messy bun on his head. The artist was easily the tallest of them all, the final remains of the blue streaks still evident in his hair, and had a bright, teasing grin on his face.  

Sophie poked up beneath Val’s arm, a bright grin on her face that looked like it could split the model’s face in two as she pointed an accusing finger at him. “Come on, Senne, it’s like you don’t know him at all!” Senne looked offended, freeing both Noor and Sander from his grasp. He tackled Sophie into the sand, taking a laughing Val with him, landing them flat on the sand beneath them. Noor wrapped an arm around Sander’s waist, rubbing his back. 

“I’m glad you were able to come,” she replied. Sander glanced over at her as she walked beside him, leaving their three friends behind and Luka trying to get them all off the ground, out of the sand. They were almost back at the hotel that Senne had booked. He wondered briefly if the groups in the surrounding houses had arrived yet, and what might happen, knowing Senne’s affinity for making friends with anyone and everyone that they come in contact with. “I know it’s been tough on you these past few weeks.” 

That was a bit of an understatement. 

The mist that always followed an episode had finally lifted. He had spent the majority of a week in bed with his roommates checking in on him, bringing him food that he didn’t always eat. Between Noor and Val, they had taken care of his editing for the handful of photoshoots that he had to get back and Sander had always been grateful for them being able to understand that he couldn’t control his episodes. Between her shoots and her work, Sophie had made sure that he was taken care of and Senne had spent one or two nights with him in Sander’s bed, simply so he could have someone to be with him. 

He didn’t like feeling like a burden to his friends, but he couldn’t help feeling that way when they changed their schedules, so they made sure that they could all check on him with their normal schedules and that helped a little bit. But, he also wished that they wouldn’t worry about him.

“I’m good, Noor, I promise,” Sander replied, flipping out of the gallery so he could take more photos on the last remaining stint of their journey back to the hotel. Despite the sunscreen that they had put on, Sander could tell that his shoulders were stiff, a sunburn was definitely coming or starting, and Noor’s cheeks were flushed from the heat beating down on them.

“I know,” Noor replied. “I just worry about you.” 

“I know,” Sander remarked, moving to hold the camera to his face. Through the lens, he spotted a large group of people up ahead, in front of their hotel, likely the other members of the other hotel, and he dragged his camera towards one of the lone figures at the edge of the water. He could hear the others catching up, felt Noor turn away to them, and Sander went back to taking pictures of anything and everything. 

But, this time, it was a tall guy with blond curls and a flower shirt on his shoulders, completely unbuttoned and a pair of shorts and a pair of sunglasses on his face. He was talking to someone with short brown curly hair, who had his back facing them and used a lot of arm movements, and they were both standing in the water with the waves beating at their knees, and with the sunset behind the two of them, the grins on the guy’s face, it was a perfect shot. 

At least, it would’ve been until someone catapulted into him, knocking them off balance and falling him into the water, beneath the water’s surface. Silently shrugging his shoulders at a picture that he had missed, he moved, twisting to find his friends, to take a picture of them with their arms all around each other as they tried to catch up with Sander and Noor, who had started to walk slower so they could catch up. The four of them, Senne and Val and Sophie and Luka, seemed to realize that the camera was on them and slightly posed and Sander captured their image.

And, then, Sander heard that goddamned laugh and “Robbe!”

Even without the use of his name, Sander could’ve picked out the laugh anywhere. It was a giggle that was ripped from the chest of its owner, light and happy and joyous, and it caused Sander to turn, to seek out the origin of it because he needed to see to believe it, taking his camera with him. 

And, sure enough, through the camera lens, there he was.

Robbe was standing near the spot that the guy with the blond curls had been standing, his shirt drenched and clinging to his skin, his brown hair sticking to his forehead and a grin beating over his face, overtaking his face and scrunching up his eyes. The blond that had surfaced splashed him with water and Robbe replied by kicking water back, laughing as the blond shot out of the water, knocking them both back beneath the waves, their laughs cut short swallowed by the motion in the water.

It had been three years since Sander had last seen Robbe in person outside the flatshare, the two of them had texted, of course, Robbe trying to make plans so they could meet up and Sander unable to turn him away but they all failed to follow through on the promises to meet up, sometimes by Sander, sometimes by Robbe, and Sander was partially thankful because he wouldn’t be able to turn Robbe away again … and Robbe deserved so much more and better than Sander could ever provide, both as a friend and as something more. Yet, one look at Robbe, resurfacing above the water and shoving his bangs off his forehead, splashing water at the blond-curly-haired man, made it seem as though these past three years had only actually been a week or two. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised. 

His feelings for Robbe were too powerful and persistent to have simply faded from his mind with no contact in three years.

“Sander?” 

Senne. 

Sander turned to him, spotting the look of confusion on the brunet’s face as well, his eyes flickering over to the group in the ocean. Robbe’s laughter had resurfaced and Sander could see the calculation in his friend’s eye, but his eyes flickered, widening in shock and a little bit of heartbreak, one that Sander knew all too well and one that could only be caused by one person, and Sander pivoted to see a group of girls sprawled out on the beach, laying back on towels. 

Zoë.

And, Milan right beside her.

“What is it?” Noor questioned, confused, her eyes darting between the two of them. 

“Nothing,” the two best friends spoke, probably too quickly. Noor raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, and Senne grinned at her, wrapping an arm around her, pressing a kiss against her temple before stating, “I promised to be your fake boyfriend, remember?” Noor wasn’t convinced and Sander wasn’t sure that Senne was either, glancing at his platinum-haired friend with a shrug of his shoulders. “Come on, we can’t avoid it forever.”

“I can try,” Sander mumbled. Noor sent them a silent look, explain later, carved over her face, but let herself be dragged away with Senne. Sander let out a sigh, moving after them, and his eyes caught sight of Robbe’s movement on the edge of the water. 

Whatever laughter lines had formed on his face were gone, his brown eyes glazing over and connecting with Sander’s green ones. The blond-haired guy was climbing out of the water and the brown-haired one that Sander didn’t recognize was nearly doubled over in laughter. But, Robbe kept his eyes locked with Sander’s as he stripped off his shirt in one fluid movement, almost like a dancer, and twisted the fabric in his hands, the ocean water spilling over his hands into the water back below. His brown eyes were pained, but he refused to look away from Sander first.

Sander let out a breath, looking away, feeling his eyes roll in the back of his head, a groan lightly escaping his lips as his throat went impossibly dry, trying to smother the thoughts in his head. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

...

READ THE REST ON AO3

[afictionaladventure16]

could you do a steve rogers x teen!reader where the reader can time travel but she didn’t quite have control on it and got stuck in like world war 2 or sumn and has really bad nightmares from it. some fluffy steve rogers please. ilu and ur writing 💖💖

December 7th, 1941 (Steve Rogers x Teen!Fem!Reader)

A/N: First of all, I fucking love you! (sorry, cap.) I REALLY hope you enjoy this fic! I tried my best to perfect it and mold it to what you requested. Second, Sorry, it took me three years to arrive lol. Anyway, I love you and your writing and honestly I love the amount of support you give me and I wish nothing but the best for you! I Appreciate you so much! Anyway, enjoy the fic!

Avengers Masterlist 

Character Taglist

Warnings: Mentions of war, fluff

Word Count: 1,605

You sat down in the back of your history class, trying your best to write down all the information your History teacher was giving the class about World War 2. He had shown a video during the beginning of class, that showed clips of the war and some clips of Captain America leading the Howling Commandos… Well, Steve and Bucky basically. You made a mental note to tell them about it later. 

“And as I said at the beginning of our lesson, the attack on Pearl Harbor led the United States into World War 2, and it took us a few years before we knew about what was going on in the concentration camps” the bell rang, causing your teacher to sigh, “We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.” You placed your books into your bag, maybe you could ask Steve or Bucky for help for your homework assignments, after all, they were there during world war 2.  “Don’t forget to read the chapter assigned for the week along with the questions that are throughout the chapter, see you guys tomorrow!” Your teacher exclaimed as students left the room. 

Soon enough, you were back at the compound. You made your way into the kitchen where Tony was, “Good afternoon, Tones!” You exclaimed as you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. 

“What have I said about calling me Tones?” Tony said as he raised his eyebrows. 

“You mean the fact that you hate it?”

“Yes, so tell me, why are you still calling me Tones?” 

You smirked as you gave him a shrug, “do you know where Steve is?” 

“He and the Manchurian Candidate had to go to a meeting,” you sighed, “don’t worry, short stuff, Capsicle will be back in time to read you a bedtime story.” 

You rolled your eyes at his nickname for you, “see you later, Tones.” 

“Alright, short stuff,” you were walking away when he said that, causing you to turn around and flip him off. He looked at you in shock, you laughed it off before walking out of the room, glad Steve wasn’t there to see what you just did. 

You made your way into your room, sitting down at your desk to begin your history homework. 

You were two hours into reading the chapter for your history assignment. Your thoughts kept going back to what happened during Pearl Harbor, “December Seventh Nineteen Forty-one,” you read aloud. You then felt something familiar and before you knew it, you were in what looked like a submarine living quarters. You looked around, your breathing increasing as you touched a uniform that was hanging off a door, “shit,” you muttered to yourself. You could time travel, you just didn’t know how to control it. You had other powers that you could control perfectly fine but you couldn’t get the hang of controlling your time-traveling. Bruce and Tony had been working hard on trying to figure out your powers, it would happen randomly, though. Like just now. You can just think of a time and somehow end up there, you were frustrated because you always tried your hardest to not think of being at that certain place but it never worked. 

The sound of a loud boom filled the silence, “oh no,” you whispered as you heard men outside of your door yelling as sirens began to ring through the air. “I have to get out of here,” you quickly grabbed the uniform and put it on, you had to disguise yourself in some way. Even if it meant putting on a men's uniform on top of your clothes. You put your hair up in a bun and covered it with the hat that was laying beside the uniform. You made your way out of the room, men were running down the hall, “what’s going on?” you asked, causing one of them to stop running to turn to you. 

“We’re under attack!” he yelled, “everyone is needed outside!” 

“Fuck,” you whispered as you watched as other men ran outside, “okay, okay, umm, what date was it,” your mind was somewhere else as you scrambled for the date that you had just come from. 

“What are you doing, soldier!? Outside now!” A man yelled at you, you quickly gave him a nod and followed him outside. The scene was even worse, there were bodies of dead men who had been shot on the floor, while other men were shooting at Japanese aircraft. You heard another loud boom, and the ship you were on rocked back and forth, you quickly held onto the railing. 

“I have to get out of here,” you whispered to yourself. You ran towards a small hiding spot, that you had spotted, “October Seventh Two Thousand and Seventeen,” you whispered to yourself, hoping that it’ll work. Hoping that you could get out of there before tragedy struck. “October Seventh Two Thousand and Seventeen!” You said a bit louder and with more confidence. You then heard silence, you slowly opened your eyes and saw that you were back in your room. You let out a relieved sigh as you choked back a sob. You quickly took off the uniform that you had accidentally brought back, throwing it in the trash bin you had in your room. You looked over at bedside table clock, Seven P.M. it read. “I-I was only gone for twenty minutes,” you mumbled to yourself, sighed and decided to call it an early night and began to get ready for bed. 

~ 

It was a little after 2 in the morning when Steve and Bucky made it back from the meeting, “it was so uncalled for,” Bucky exclaimed as they made their way into the compound, “just hours of hearing Fury go on and on about how important our next mission was.”

Steve chuckled, “I know, I know,” he said softly to his best friend, “but Fury trusts us with this, he just tends to get excited about certain things.” Both men walked into the elevator. 

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered as he pressed the button for his floor then the button for Steve’s floor. It didn’t take the elevator long to arrive at Bucky’s floor, “G’night, Steve,” He said with a soft yawn escaping his mouth as he walked out of the elevator. 

“Night, Buck,” Steve said before the elevators doors closed once again. Once the elevator stopped onto Steve’s floor, he didn’t hesitate to walk out of the elevator. He made his way down the hall but when he passed your room, his pace slowly came to a stop. He could hear you're breathing heavily, but what startled him was the ear piercing scream that was erupted from your room. 

“Help! Help me!” he heard you cry out, “help me!” 

Steve quickly ran into your room, “Y/N!” He yelled but he calmed down a bit when he saw that you were laying in your bed, eyes closed… having a nightmare. “Y/N!” He said as he approached your bed, he sat beside you, “Y/N, wake up, sweetie,” he shook you softly, enough to startle you awake, causing you to quickly sit up in your bed. 

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you noticed Steve sitting on the edge of your bed, “Steve,” you quickly enveloped him in a hug. 

He didn’t hesitate to return the hug, “it’s just a nightmare, hon,” he whispered into your hair, “everything is okay.” 

You shook your head, “but it wasn’t a nightmare,” you said softly. 

Steve let go of the hug so he could take a better look at you, “What do you mean?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to,” you whispered as tears trailed their way down your cheeks, “I was reading about Pearl Harbor and I somehow,” you felt your breath hitch in your throat, “I didn’t mean to!” 

Steve knew exactly what you were trying to say, “oh no, Y/N,” he said softly as he invited you back in for a hug which you gladly accepted. “It’s okay, you’re home now. You’re safe,” he said as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“It was so scary,” you cried. 

Steve let out a small sigh as he gently stroked your hair, “you know, it wasn’t always scary,” he said softly. 

“No?” You asked quietly. His hand moved from your hair to your back, gently rubbing your back in a comforting way. It seemed to help you stop crying. 

Steve chuckled, “did I ever tell you about the time Bucky made me ride a rollercoaster in Coney Island?” 

“No,” you sniffled, “was this before or during the war?” 

Steve sighed, “a little bit before,” Steve then continued on with his story, about how he ended up throwing up most of his food after the ride. But this was before he became Captain America. He also told you stories about the times he shared with the Howling Commandos, all the fun memories they had together. Memories he will forever cherish. “I don’t think Bucky will ever let down the fact that Peggy turned him down,” Steve said as he finished his story. He looked down at you, noticing your eyes closed and your breathing was steady. He smiled and laid you back down onto the bed before tucking you in, “goodnight, kid,” he said softly. He placed a kiss on your forehead before walking out of your room. Steve prayed that Bruce and Tony would somehow figure out a way that you could control your time-travel abilities. You were like a kid to him and he hated seeing that your abilities were getting to you, but for now, he was going to have to keep a closer eye on you. 

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[ericsonclan]

I Ain't Clowning Around

Summary: Sophie and Minnie share the secret behind why Sophie hates clowns.

Read on A03:

It was a quiet day at Ericson’s Diner. Louis and Violet had decided to close it for the day and asked any available staff to come in and help do a deep cleaning day. It had been an exhausting morning filled with many dusty and greasy sections of the restaurant. At around 1 they had taken a break for lunch when the question popped up.

“Sophie, I have a question.” Brody slid into the booth where Minnie and Sophie were eating. Sophie glanced up from her PB&J.

“What is it?” Her mouth was still full of her sandwich which caused Minnie to look over. Sophie gave an apologetic look while she swallowed the rest of her food.

“Well, the other day I overheard you talking with Prisha and you mentioned a fear of clowns. I was just wondering why you have that fear?”

Brody’s question made Sophie lean back in the booth. Brody was a bit nervous that her question was invasive, but Sophie’s bright smile made it clear that she didn’t mind.

“It’s all because of our tenth birthday,” Sophie began the story, ready to add any dramatic flair that she could to it. “Our parents came up with the genius idea to get clowns.”

“Without telling us,” Minnie added, placing her elbows on the table.

“It was such a good party too... until they showed up,” Sophie tilted her head back with a groan. “The food was sooo good and the cake had three different flavors. But when the clowns showed up I started to freak out. I had never really seen one in person before and by the looks of them it was obvious I never would have liked them.” Sophie shifted her cap while Minnie took another bite from her sandwich.

“When I started to get upset, one of them began to follow me in hopes of making me feel better. But I screamed and ran away.” Sophie’s storytelling tone took over, her body language becoming more animated. It drew some of the others towards the booth, curious about Sophie’s dramatics. Minnie’s smile grew with each passing minute of her sister’s story, enjoying a tale she must’ve heard many times before.

“ No matter where I hid, the clown kept finding me. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I knew there was only one person I could trust to have my back, so I ran towards Minnie and hid behind her. That’s when she began to laugh. Apparently it’s funny when your sister has a fear of clowns - even though it’s totally valid.” Sophie crossed her arms in annoyance. “You laughed at her?” Louis slid in next to Brody, an excited smile on his face at the story unfolding in front of him.

“Hey, it was only at first! Then I helped you out,” Minnie’s arms mirrored Sophie.

“How did you do that?” Brody looked over at the older twin, intrigued by her statement.

“I punched the clown,” Minnie stated, acting like it was the obvious choice to do. “I was being a good big sister.”

“The best!” Sophie’s arm shot out, wrapping around Minnie.

Minnie’s face brightened at her sister’s words.

“The clown backed off after that.... but our parents were really pissed at us.” Sophie’s laughter made it hard for her to finish her sentence.

“Do you remember what happened after that?” Sophie’s playful smile was returned by Minnie.

“Yeah, you jumped in front of me and defended me, saying I was the bestest big sister in the world. When that didn’t work you told them that the clown had it coming.” Minnie’s gentle laugh overtook her words.

“We were in so much trouble after that.” Sophie leaned back again, her hands tucked behind her head. “But I’m getting sidetracked. The point of the story is that ever since I’ve always been afraid of clowns showing up randomly. So I make sure to make it clear that clowns can’t be at the places I go if I can help it. That’s why I told Marlon that there’s not going to be clowns at our wedding.” Sophie took off her cap, spinning it around her finger before placing it back proudly on her head.

“Do you really think that clowns are just going to pop out from anywhere?” Louis gave a teasing smile.

Sophie gave a shrug before returning her gaze to him with a smile of her own. “Anything’s possible.”

“Guys, we need to get back to work.” Violet’s voice called out from the other room.

“Damn it,” Louis stood up, shaking his head “I was hoping to learn some more stories from you two. It seems you have many interesting tales to tell.”

“Well I guess you’ll just have to wait till next time.” Sophie looked over at her twin.

“I’m sure they would laugh at why I got this scar,” Minnie gestured to her eyebrow while she stood up.

Sophie’s expression changed to one of embarrassment before it reverted back to her usual chill demeanor.

“Oh well, maybe next time.” Sophie rose, standing beside her sister. Louis’ eyes were shining with excitement at the potential story. While the twins made their way back to the kitchen to continue the deep clean Brody ran up, walking beside Sophie.

“Thanks for sharing the story. I think it makes sense why you’re afraid of clowns.”

Sophie gave an appreciated smile. “Just wait until you hear Minnie’s phobia.”

Minnie playfully hit her twin’s arm.

Sophie flashed a teasing smile towards her. “Oh, but I guess that’s a secret.”

Sophie’s words made Louis even more curious about what secrets the twins held. He was determined to find out their stories.

[infiniteshawn]

Since We’re Alone | 2

a/n: 3k words. an opportunistic dilemma.

“I don’t know why I did it,” Phoebe sighed, keeping her voice low. The break room was always a setting for warmly welcomed gossip, but not when it revolved around her own pseudo-romantic relations with an A-list celebrity.

“I just knew, fuck,” she spoke, catching the eyes of a nosy member of the cleaning staff as he mindlessly wiped one of the round tables. Her voice was barely a whisper, “his reputation is really clean, and he was having an off-moment, and the only thing on television was literally his pissed-off face.”

“So,” Phoebe’s co-worker, Sophie, was an interesting being. Good advice, terrible ideas. Phoebe kept this in mind as Sophie spoke, “you thought kissing him on national television would,” she paused, “fix it?”

“I don’t know,” Phoebe’s head lowered into her dry hands, “I knew it was gonna be bad, and I knew it would be the cover of every snapchat-and-whatever-else news story, and I knew I’d be right there in the photo, sitting right be-fucking-side him.”

“Right,” she nodded, “so you thought it would be better to be on the cover of every snapchat-and-whatever-else news story right on-fucking-top of him. I see.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes. It was no use. The logic wasn’t all there, but something had told her to just do it in the moment. So, she did. And as annoying as the influx of backlash was, she had a hard time denying that she was enjoying herself.

“Would you just drop it?” Phoebe questioned with a sly grin, popping the last bite of her turkey sandwich into her mouth, “it’s over now, anyway.”

“Don’t speak so soon,” Sophie muttered, nodding her head in the direction of their boss, Margaret.

Margaret Adams. She was the bane of Phoebe’s existence. She was needy. She was demanding. She was everything a boss was supposed to be—and everyone hated her for it.

“Bray!” Margaret called from only a few feet away, causing Phoebe’s attention to leave her picked-at cuticle and land on Margaret, red-faced and flustered.

Phoebe didn’t have the chance to answer before Margaret began speaking—speaking about exactly what Phoebe did not want to talk about.

“Why the hell are you on Twitter moments?”

Phoebe took a deep breath. This really wasn’t going away anytime soon.

____________________

Remaining low-key had always been the goal. Letting them know what she was thinking—whoever “them” may have been—was never an option for Phoebe Rose. Silent but deadly. A wallflower, perhaps. She was a shark.

With a double-major in philosophy and English lit, Phoebe was a shoo-in for her position with Toronto Life Magazine. Unfortunately, the only opening was with Margaret’s department, which took pride in covering celebrity news stories. It made Phoebe sick.

It was invasive. It was greasy. Toxic, even.

But a position was a position, and anything was better than waitressing at Joey’s, a higher-end restaurant at Yonge and Dundas that was home to pretentious late teens and margarita-sipping wine moms.

As if on cue, Phoebe caught the 504A streetcar at 6:03. It was packed. It was always packed at this time. Especially on a Tuesday.

They stood like sardines holding onto the germ-ridden handles and she peered between the heads of two older women, mesmerized by the cookie-cutter financial buildings. They were all different. But the same.

They buzzed with the same aura, radiating stress and poise and money in the way each window stretched from floor to ceiling. Phoebe wondered what it took to become somebody in this grey, cubic city, miserable as that somebody may truly be. The bankers seemed to really hate it.

She liked to think of Toronto that way—cubic. She wasn’t quite sure why, but it made sense.

Phoebe thought back to her family trip to London when she was fifteen. It, too, was grey, but regardless of the weather it always seemed to be vibrating with life. Five-street intersections. The intense complexity of the tube. The history—Phoebe could have a field day just thinking about the past lives of all of those buildings.

It wasn’t until she returned home all those years ago, peeking out of the way-too-bright window of the 747 that she noticed how grid-like Toronto was. Every street was carefully engineered, the rest of the ground littered in houses and buildings that appeared to all be a uniform greying beige. It was lifeless. Modern. Cubic. Robotic, even. And Phoebe loved it.

She gazed out the window freely, now, as the two older ladies had gotten off at Spadina. Cars trailed behind the street car slowly, unable to pass as a result of the illegally-parked vehicles on King. Most restaurants were empty. Phoebe knew that Tuesdays in February were detrimental to the food industry. She wondered when exactly the calendar marked the beginning of patio season. April? May? She wasn’t sure. It reminded her of the way she always forgot she had Springtime allergies until spring rolled back around, or how often it rained in Toronto until winter ended and the arctic tundra that encapsulates the city melts away.

She realized she was going in mindless circles. Phoebe did this often.

The woman spoke. The bell that measured distance and location and stops sounded. Phoebe got off, stepping into the crisp whipping wind and again stepping into the lobby of her apartment building.

Chester had swung the glass vestibule door open before she could go fishing for her key card. She shot the doorman a crooked smile with something between a nod and a head shake, and then cursed herself for being so awkward. But it didn’t matter--the leftovers in her fridge seemed far more important.

So important that she hadn’t looked at the screen of her ancient iPhone 6 in an hour and a half. And she probably shouldn’t have.

She practically dropped the damn thing when she saw the twenty-seven-minute-old notification.

@shawnmendes has requested to follow you.

____________________

“I declined it,” Phoebe spoke sternly, trying her best to conceal her voice’s urge to waver.

“You,” Sophie paused, stopping dead in her tracks. Phoebe couldn’t help but giggle, slightly embarrassed that Sophie’s rigid frame was splitting the mass herd of tired commuters walking up Church Street. It reminded her of Moses liberating the Israelites—except this was not like that. At all. She finished her question, even though it was more of a judgemental statement, “declined it?”

Phoebe pursed her lips, sticking her hand out to pull Sophie along. A male passerby in a blue suit was seemingly very annoyed.

“Come on,” she giggled.

“Only because I’m at risk of being trampled,” Sophie spoke curtly, crossing her arms and continuing their morning sojourn. She rejected Phoebe’s outstretched hand.

“Accepting it would come with a wave of teenage girls also requesting, and I really don’t need to be sifting through that. Also, I don’t know that my phone could take it,” Phoebe explained, now stopped on the corner as they waited for the LED walking man’s permission to cross the street, “just looking at my Snapchat memories crashes the damn thing.

“Plus,” Phoebe added after a brief pause, sorting the short list of reasons-not-to-jump-into-this that she’d mentally drafted the night before, “if I messaged him, he wouldn’t see it. He must get millions of DMs. And how the hell did he even find me? Bet he’s a total creep.”

“Excuses, Pheebs,” Sophie whined. She didn’t really whine, but she did in the brain of Phoebe—who didn’t want to hear it. “Just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you’re a pussy,” Sophie spoke, but this time with a sly grin. Phoebe was many things, but a pussy was not one of them.

“You’re saying that to piss me off and then guilt me into condoning this behaviour,” Phoebe replied, trying her best not to get defensive. She was independent. Self-sufficient. Quiet, but brave. Not a pussy.

“Might be,” Sophie teased, tossing her empty coffee cup in a city garbage can as Phoebe grabbed the door to their office building, “really, though, just think about it.”

____________________

Heads had turned in the lunch room. Only three days since the incident, and Phoebe was positive they’d all seen her face on the cover of Daily Mail. She cringed.

It was like she was having a slightly more intense déjà vu as she spotted Margaret barreling in her direction, leather pants whaling “please save me” with each stride. Phoebe clenched her thighs, bracing herself for whatever was coming.

“Blondie,” Margaret called, and Phoebe tried her best not to roll her eyes. She wasn’t even blonde anymore; the winter’s lack of sunlight had turned her hair a light golden brown. But the unfortunate nickname stuck. “Phone’s for you. My office.”

The walk to Margaret’s office was nerve-wracking and so incredibly exciting that Phoebe was trying not to lose her lunch. Her space was nice. Not twentieth-floor-nice, but they were the gossip department, after all. This was as good as it could get.

“Who is it?” Phoebe asked gently, barely a whisper. She knew better than to question Margaret.

But Margaret Adams was a self-proclaimed “slut for pop culture.” And that’s why she couldn’t contain that she was ecstatic when she exclaimed, “It’s Mr. Andrew Gertler.”

Phoebe almost choked on nothing in particular. This really wasn’t going away.

Margaret sat across from her when she answered the phone. Phoebe’s eyes were trained on the roof of Kensington Market—a place she didn’t particularly like, but wished she was at in this particular moment.

“Hello?”

“Miss Bray,” she recognized the voice. It was indeed Andrew Gertler, the man who encouraged Shawn to “sell” that he was just happy to be there. What a fucked-up industry.

“Speaking,” Phoebe replied, unamused. Margaret shot her a look.

“Listen,” the man spoke, “nobody’s mad at you. That stunt you pulled was, well,” he paused, and Phoebe scraped her chapstick off her lower lip with her teeth. “Impressive. You’re sharp. You know the business. And while your actions were,” he paused again, and Phoebe’s stomach churned, “unacceptable, really, it made sense and it saved Shawn’s ass. He’s grateful.”

Phoebe nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see her, and then opened her mouth to verbally agree but Andrew was speaking again.

“It’s left us with one problem, though.”

“Uh,” she answered, meeting Margaret’s wide gaze, “yeah?”

“Shawn Mendes doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

____________________

“So?” Margaret questioned, her almost-black hair bouncing as she spoke with such animation. Phoebe wanted to crawl in a hole.

“You heard, I said I’d think about it.”

“Miss Bray,” Margaret began, and Phoebe clammed up a bit. It felt like she was in trouble, “you’re an intern for a serious magazine. And this,” she motioned to the phone, its wire coiled into an upward curve as if it was smiling at Phoebe. Mocking her, almost. “This is your department. Don’t you want this?”

“Want what?” Phoebe asked, leaning in a bit, not quite understanding.

“Phoebe,” Margaret spoke, flattening her frizzy hair to her head. It sprang up again. “You’ve been presented with the opportunity to be a part of a publicity stunt. Don’t you know how many doors that would open?”

Phoebe stared back blankly. The idea made her feel a little sick.

“Honey,” it felt as if Margaret was guilting her, now, “you’d see the ins and outs of the business. You’d meet high-profile people—the kind of people we write about. And you’d come out of it with a damn good story. One that people could read.”

That woke her up a little. Margaret was insinuating that Phoebe, an intern, might come out of this with the possibility of being published. She kept listening.

“They fly you around. You become known, people start reading us more to learn about you. You do this, Phoebe, and you’ll leave here the girl who fetches my coffee. You’ll return as a member of the team.”

Phoebe nodded and left Margaret’s office. She wondered if kickstarting a career was worth the price of dishonesty.

____________________

Andrew Gertler’s mysterious phone call was haunting, almost. It echoed in Phoebe’s ears as she rode the elevator to the fourth floor, remembering what it was like to run around the same very building as a little kid.

Her parents had split when she was only three or four months old, and her dad worked every Saturday. He’d send Phoebe to spend the day with his sister--her aunt--downtown. They did things. Explored Toronto and all its crevices, ensuring weekly day trips to places like the ROM and the AGO and the very niche, expensive shops in the Distillery District. It was magic.

Phoebe was only nineteen when her aunt died. She’d left her the apartment.

Things were so simple, then, Phoebe thought to herself with a chuckle. She once walked the winding hall as a four-year-old with nothing but the museum gift shop on her mind, but things were different now. It was time to grow up.

Phoebe was shocked to discover that Andrew seemed to have researched her entire life. He’d mentioned that he contacted the event staff and obtained a list of the names of each seat filler (which was massive). He then realized he could have just asked Rita—the headset-wearing lady with the clipboard—who it was that had planted herself in the lap of Shawn Mendes. Then he began the deep dive.

Found her Facebook, magically knew she’d attended the University of Guelph and graduated a year prior. He found it oddly convenient that like Shawn Mendes, she, too, was a Toronto native. “It makes too much sense,” he’d said. Phoebe disagreed. It made zero sense. At all.

He’d asked her if she liked her job. She answered, “I like my path.” This only encouraged Andrew, as he began to explain the benefits to her projected career that a stunt like this would provide. Phoebe couldn’t deny it—it did seem very sound.

But something was deterring her. Dishonesty? Taking part in the slime that was Hollywood? Serving the unfulfilling purpose of being nothing but a piece of arm-candy?

“Like, a prop?” she’d asked, in search of justification for the degrading feeling that was eating her from the inside-out, “I’m sorry, I just don’t see the point.”

She didn’t want to feed the beast that was show business. She knew it was toxic and unacceptable and just plain bad. But she saw the possibilities, and they were endless. This was her department. This was her—unfortunately—area of expertise. And this was her career. She was ready to call him back when her phone lit up, the pink square making her nervous. Instagram.

@shawnmendes has requested to send you a message.

She took a deep breath. Upon opening it, she laughed.

I really hope Andrew didnt scare you was all it said. It was innocent, and the lack of an apostrophe was making her antsy but she was reminded of his naivety and probable sloppiness. He was just a goofy twenty-three-year-old. And he didn’t ask for any of this.

She wasn’t sure if she was going to respond. Decided she’d sleep on it, because making decisions was always a better idea a few hours later.

Phoebe picked up her book, and Atwood’s words freaked her out.

They look around, bright-eyed, cocking their heads to one side like robins, their very cheerfulness aggressive, and I can’t help staring.

The women teeter on their spiked feet as if on stilts, but off balance; their backs arch at the waist, thrusting the buttocks out.

She wondered what she was getting herself into. Hollywood. Magazines. Glitz and glamour. She questioned if it was worth it.

We are fascinated, but also repelled.

I bet, Phoebe thought. The industry was a repulsive one. She was hesitant to read further.

“Excuse me,” he says to both of us, politely enough. “They’re asking if they can take your picture.”

The foreshadowing was uncanny. She wondered if her dead aunt or the wizard in the sky or some impossibly higher power was laughing at her from their living room in the clouds.

Modesty is invisibility.

It is in this business.

“Excuse me,” says the interpreter again, to catch our attention. I nod, to show I’ve heard him.

“He asks, are you happy,” says the interpreter. I can imagine it, their curiosity: Are they happy? How can they be happy?

Phoebe wondered if she was happy, and if she was about to become far less happy. If stepping into the public eye would make her into the shell of a woman that she feared so deeply.

We are secret, forbidden, we excite them.

Phoebe’s plump lips turned upward at the corners. Somewhere deep down, she longed to be a muse. A puppet, something to get the people talking. She thirsted for that power.

“Yes, we are very happy,” I murmur. I have to say something. What else can I say?

Her thumbs were unlocking her phone and typing a reply faster than her brain could stop her.

taglist: @ssweet-empowerment @tamegray @loveat2 @heyits-claire @martinimendes @shxwnmxndess @sunriseshawn @jollybonkpatroldonkey @jesuscheistkaren@casuallycoolcloud @sinplisticshawn @deafeningdeanhoagieturtle @rosieblondie @hannahlouiseee @change-perspective13 @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @calthesensation @livsalzy

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Pills and Patience

A JSE Fanfic

I feel like I’m doing a lot of shorter pieces recently, but I don’t mind. It’s almost nice. But anyway, I know this is a day late, but yesterday was tiring for me, so I took some time to rest. Still, I liked how this turned out. I can’t believe this is the fifth part in this series that started as a one-shot. But I’m loving it. We take some time at first to look at how two of the other boys are doing, and then we go back to Schneep. He’s not having a good time as of late, but what else is new? Hope you enjoy ^-^

You can find the other stories under the #pwtimeline tag!

“No, no, I understand. It’s fine. How long will you be gone, again? Oh, okay. Can you...tell me when you get back? Thanks. Tell them hi from me. Goodb—” Chase pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the screen. She’d hung up pretty quickly. Did that mean she was still mad? Or not? He still wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to upset her in the first place, so he couldn’t figure it out. Chase sighed, leaning forward until his head hit the bathroom mirror.

The doorbell rang.

He looked up, frowning. He wasn’t expecting anyone...still, why not check? A short walk out of the bathroom and down the hall lead him back to the living room. The bell rang again. “Okay! I’m coming,” he said, reaching the front door. He pulled it open. “Oh...hi.” He blinked. “I wasn’t...what’s up? What’re you doing here?”

The familiar face on the other side of the door smiled at him. I came to check in on you, JJ signed. That’s not illegal, is it?

“No, just unexpected.” Chase paused, then started, remembering his manners. “Oh, you want to come in? I can make tea or something.”

How about I make the tea? I feel you always make it improperly.

“Okay, wow, excuse me for not being British.” Chase raised his hands as if in surrender. Then he stepped aside. “Anyway, come in. Sorry about the mess.”

JJ breezed inside and ended up standing in the middle of the living room, hands on hips. He was wearing one of his more casual outfits today: a tan button-up shirt with a bow tie and one of his pocket watches on a fine chain around his neck. It may have looked odd on anyone else, but JJ had the sort of style to pull it off. The shoulder bag was a little out of place, though. It’s not as messy as you think, JJ signed swiftly. You’re doing better at cleaning!

“Thanks.” Chase shut the door. “Uh, you want to go to the kitchen?”

Yes, let’s.

Once in the kitchen, JJ made a beeline for the counter, setting his bag on the nearest stool. So how are you? He asked. What’s been going on in your life?

“Uh, nothing much, really.” Chase leaned against the doorway. Nothing noteworthy, anyway.

Surely there must be something. JJ started digging around in his bag, pulling out items.

“I mean...I-I dunno, it’s kinda all been—” Chase stopped. “Jays. What is that?”

It’s a knife. JJ held up said knife, flipped open the blade before closing it again, set it on the counter, then continued rifling through the bag.

“Why do you have a knife?”

JJ took a moment to pull a small box out of the bag before pointing at himself, then making a sign with both hands. Literally, it translated to protection, but Chase had spent enough time interpreting JJ’s signs to understand that what he was actually trying to say was Self-defense.

“Well, I guess that makes sense, but this is a pretty safe city. I don’t think it’s worth carrying a knife around.”

You own a gun, JJ pointed out dryly.

“Yeah, but—I mean, I-I don’t carry it around,” Chase stuttered.

To each their own, JJ shrugged. You can never be too safe. Anyway. JJ picked up the small box, opening it and pulling out a couple of tea bags. I hope you don’t mind I brought a different blend.

“No, go ahead. Wait.” Chase’s brow furrowed. “How did you know we would make tea?”

It’s what you always do when you have visitors: offer them tea.

“Well...I mean, I guess you’re not wrong. I did the same thing with that doctor lady who dropped by a couple weeks ago. Did I tell you about that?”

JJ paused in his tea making. I don’t believe you did.

“Well. She did.” Chase scuffed at a spot on the floor. “That’s how I knew about...Schneep.”

Your friend in the hospital.

“Yeah.” Chase paused. “Y’know I think you two would get along. You should come with me one week for visiting hours.”

JJ was already shaking his head. I wouldn’t want to intrude on what time you have together.

“It wouldn’t be an intrusion. I mean, I’d tell him before hand, he’d probably remember.” That was only a ‘probably.’ But JJ didn’t need to know that.

JJ was silent for a while, not looking at Chase as he set the kettle on the stovetop. After a moment he raised his hands, hesitated, then signed, Well, maybe. One day in the future, when you two have had more time to get reacquainted with each other. After all, tomorrow will only be your...third visit, is it?

“Well...it would, but...” Chase shifted on his feet. “That same doctor lady gave me her number last time, and I gave her mine. She said she’d put me down as an emergency contact. Then yesterday, she called me saying it...maybe wouldn’t be a good idea to show up tomorrow.” He mumbled that last part, almost not wanting to say it.

JJ looked at him, surprised. Why?

“Apparently, he—Schneep, he’s...not doing good,” Chase said slowly. “And the doctor—I think her name is Rya—said that if anything went wrong during the visit, then they could revoke visiting rights, and she thought it would be best not to risk that.” Chase closed his eyes and sighed. “I mean, I guess it’s a good idea. Better to miss one than lose them altogether.”

For a moment, there was quiet. Then there was a loud clapping sound and Chase jolted, opening his eyes. JJ looked him straight in the eyes and clapped his hands once more. “Oh, uh...sorry, guess that’s a little rude.” Chase folded his arms, trying to shrink into himself. “Didn’t realize.”

It’s alright, just remember to keep your eyes open next time, JJ signed. Anyway, I’m sure it’ll be fine. There’s always next week.

“Yeah, there is. It’s just...” Chase hesitated. “It’s just...I just got off the phone with Stacy before you showed up. She’s...taking Sophie and Nick on vacation for a week. So...I-I’m not going to see them this weekend.” Chase blinked rapidly. “I-I guess it’s just that—I don’t know, just both these things happening together, it just...”

JJ didn’t say anything. He crossed the room to stand opposite Chase, placing a hand on his shoulder. Then he gently pushed him over to the kitchen table, where he pulled out a chair and pushed Chase into it. He held up one finger as if asking him to wait, then returned to the counter. Chase watched as he finished the tea, pouring two mugs before approaching the table once more. He set one mug down in front of Chase and then took a seat himself. Now, everything’s better with tea, he signed.

Chase laughed a bit. “You’re not wrong.” He took a sip. It was a sweeter blend than he was used to, but not bad.

Chase, I hope you know you’re stronger than you think, JJ signed. You’ve gotten through all your bad days so far, I believe you can handle the next few days as well. And if you need anything, you can always text me. I’ll answer.

“I guess...”

You don’t guess, you know. You are a capable, good man, Chase, and you can take care of anything life throws at you.

For a moment, Chase just stared at Jameson. “Hey, Jays...?” The words stuck in his throat. He couldn’t say enough. His best friend was in a coma, another friend had been blamed for murder and sent to a mental hospital, and then two more had disappeared off the face of the earth. How could he say how much he appreciated Jameson for staying with him through all that, for being there through the dark times? “...Thanks,” he finally said. “Just...thanks.”

JJ smiled. You’re welcome. Now, how are you feeling?

“A little better.”

It’s the tea.

Chase laughed. “I bet it is.” 

——————

Across the city, Dr. Rya Laurens was in the employee break room at Silver Hills, hurrying to finish her lunch. Normally she would’ve eaten earlier, but that persistent...cold, or whatever it was she had a few weeks ago, was back, and her foggy brain had forgotten until now.

Someone cleared their throat nearby, and she looked up. Oliver was standing some ways away, looking awkward. “Hey Doc, you ready to go?”

Laurens held up her hand, chewing quickly. She was aware it was almost time for today’s session. She wished she could take her food with her, and some for Schneep, too, like their old lunchtime sessions back in the old room. But Dr. Newson had forbidden it, saying that anything in the lunch that hadn’t been approved could technically be used as a weapon. Laurens didn’t use the word “bullshit” often, especially not at work, but...she shook her head. Dr. Newson probably knew what she was doing.

After a moment, she quickly stood up, swept the remains of her food into the nearest trash can, and grabbed her notebook. “Ready now. Let’s go.”

It was a bit of a walk from the break room to the Room 1010. Long enough for Laurens to start to feel the awkwardness between her and Oliver. She coughed. Making conversation was better than nothing. “So...how have you been liking this assignment? I know orderlies usually do a whole bunch, does this feel...different?”

Oliver frowned, considering. “It’s definitely not what I was expecting, I’ll tell you that.”

“Well, what were you expecting?”

“...I don’t know.” Oliver paused, looking almost embarrassed. “It sounds stupid, but something more...I don’t know, risky. I thought I was being brave, but he hasn’t done much.”

Laurens considered. “I-I mean, you were there when the accident with Theresa happened. It makes sense that would form an...impression on you. But you know that the people here really aren’t scary.”

“I know. But there’s something different when one of them killed thirteen people.”

“It’s alright, I was nervous too. But Schneep’s okay, he just needs help.” Even if lately...it almost seemed like they were making backwards progress. He’d become more withdrawn over the last few days, sometimes not even acknowledging that she was in the room with him. Always seeming to look at something she couldn’t see, hissing things under his breath that she couldn’t understand, no matter what language the words were in. She just...really hoped this was just a bad couple of days, and not a sign of something deeper.

They arrived at the room. Laurens took out her key card, swiped it through the reader, and opened the door wide enough for her and Oliver to walk inside. The room was unchanged from the last session. Schneep was sitting on the bed, hugging the pillow to his chest and slowly rocking back and forth. He didn’t look up when Laurens walked over to the room’s one chair and sat, setting her notebook down on the table. “Hi Schneep,” she said. “How are you doing today?”

Schneep didn’t answer, or even acknowledge her. His eyes were fixed downward.

“Did you know it’s been almost three months since you’ve come here?” Laurens asked. “The sixth will mark three months exactly.”

Still no response.

She could already tell this probably wasn’t going to be a productive session. But she had to try. “Um, there’s something we really need to talk about.” She started thumbing through the pages of the notebook. “I know I keep bringing this up, and I know you don’t want to say anything about it, but it really needs to be addressed, so I can better understand where you’re coming from. So...” She pulled out a loose piece of paper that had been tucked in close to the binding. Unfolding it and setting it down on the table revealed it was the drawing Schneep had done during their session a couple weeks ago. The one that she was pretty sure was the thing he kept seeing. “Are you feeling up to telling me anything about this?”

That finally got Schneep’s attention. He raised his head and his eyes flicked down to the drawing on the table. Laurens saw his grip on the pillow tighten. He shook his head. “Nein. Nein, nein...du sollst nicht darüber...” He trailed off.

“I can’t understand you,” Laurens said gently. “Um...ich spreche kein deutsch?” She hoped that she wasn’t mispronouncing anything.

Schneep looked up at her. “Why do you say it, then?”

Laurens blinked. “Ah...”

It didn’t seem like Schneep was waiting for an answer. His head tilted upward as he looked at the ceiling. “Die Augen...” he muttered. “They are back. Though I think they are always there. Always watching.”

Laurens flipped to a different page in her notebook. The ‘watching’ seemed to be a recurring theme for Schneep. Obviously some form of paranoia, but what was causing it? She glanced down at the drawing. “You say that a lot. Who’s watching?”

He looked back at here, irritated. “Die Augen. The, the, the...eyes. From your face.” Back up at the ceiling. “I think they fell out, but now they watch.”

She took out her pen and made a note. “Why do you think they do that?”

“Is because of—” He stopped short.

Laurens leaned forward. “Because of what?” She paused, waiting for an answer and getting none. “You can tell me, you know? If you don’t want anyone else to know, I won’t say anything. I just need—”

“No.” Schneep shook his head. “No, nein, nein. Should not say in the first place.”

“Why is that?” Laurens waited for an answer. Schneep didn’t respond, and instead intensified his rocking. “Schneep...Henrik, do you think...will something bad happen if you tell someone?”

Schneep made a small sound, something in between a whimper and a groan. One hand reached up and started rubbing at his neck. 

She waited for a long time, thinking maybe he just needed a while to answer. But it was clear he had no intention of saying anything. She looked down at the drawing again, then reached forward and tapped it. “Something to do with this?”

Schneep suddenly burst into laughter, shaking his head. Laurens jumped a bit at the surprise of it, but quickly calmed herself. It wasn’t long before the laughter started sounding strained, forced. More like crying. And the hand at his neck was—“Henrik, stop that!” Laurens shot to her feet and was soon in front of him, her hand darting out to grab his wrist and pull it away. There were red marks on his throat where his nails had been scratching at it. Schneep made eye contact with her, a wide grin lighting up his face but not his eyes. His other hand reached up and started doing the same, clawing, clawing at the skin. Laurens hurried to grab that one too.

For a moment, the two of them were frozen, staring at each other. And then the grin dropped from Schneep’s face. His eyes widened, and he seemed to shake a bit. Then with no warning at all, he threw his head backwards and hit it against the wall.

Laurens shrieked. “Henrik! Stop it!” Schneep didn’t seem to hear her, hitting his head again. Laurens looked toward the corner of the room. Oliver was standing there, as always. He was half-reaching towards her, hesitating, as if waiting for something. She looked at him and jerked her head towards the situation. And within moments, he was with them, holding Schneep’s arms securely to his side and keeping his head from moving any more. Schneep kept shaking. A small tear trickled from one eye.

Oliver looked at her. “I have some sedatives, if you—”

“No.” Laurens cut him off. “Not right...” But then she trailed off. Now, standing as close to the bed as she was, she noticed something odd. A lump. More than one, actually. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached forward, underneath the loose blankets, and felt around until her fingers wrapped around a small, round object. She pulled it out. Her eyes widened. “Henrik...” she held it up for him to see. “This is one of your pills. And it looks like there are more.” Her eyes widened. “You haven’t been taking your medication, have you?”

Schneep squeezed his eyes shut.

“For how long? A-and why?”

“Was not working,” Schneep muttered, opening one eye. 

“You’re supposed to tell us that, Schneep!” She said, shocked. “So that we can change it! It doesn’t help anyone if you just pretend to take it and then hide it. You know this. If anything, this’ll just lead to—”

“It will never work!” Schneep wrenched a hand free and grabbed her coat, pulling her a bit closer before Oliver slapped his hand away. “You do not understand, none of you! He will not go away! None of it will stop! It does not matter, does not matter! Because I tell you, this is different from the things I have seen in the past, h-he is—is—is—” Schneep cut himself off, breathing too quickly to get words out.

“Then help me understand, Schneep,” Laurens emphasized. She grabbed his dangling hand, squeezing it tight. “Because if I can’t understand, then I can’t do anything for you except keep switching your medication. And I want to do more.” She paused, making sure he was fully listening to her. “Now just breathe. Calm down, alright. You know the five things you can see exercise, right? Would it help if you did that now?”

Schneep’s eyes darted around the small room. He started muttering things under his breath, too low for her to hear. After a while, he turned his attention back to her. Still breathing heavily, still with a few tears escaping wet eyes, but better.

“Are you ready to keep going?” Laurens coaxed. “Or do you need more time?”

Schneep bit his lip, looking downward. “I hate this,” he muttered. “Hate it, hate it. I am supposed to be a doctor, supposed to heal, not hurt. But I am here because I have done that.” He blinked quickly.

“You’ve said before that this wasn’t your fault,” Laurens said gently.

“But it is my hands I see the red on.” Schneep shuddered. “Is him, I know it. H-he makes...makes me. Puts the thoughts and feelings inside my head.” He hissed. “Shove a needle down their throats and watch them choke on it. It is inside there, but I know it does not belong to me. Is not me, is not.”

“So, this ‘him’...he makes you do things that hurt people?” Laurens clarified.

Schneep nodded vigorously. “...you cannot say anything,” he said, making eye contact with her. “That is what he wants. It makes him...” He paused, looking for the right word. “...have...influence. Strength. The more you talk about him.”

Laurens nodded. “Well, then. That was very...brave of you, to tell me this, even though you know that.”

“...thank you.” Schneep blinked, a few more tears slipping by. “I-I...I am tired."

“I can leave, if you want me to,” Laurens suggested. Once he nodded again, she turned her attention to Oliver, who immediately let go of Schneep, letting him slump sideways on the bed. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Schneep.”

“You know, is odd that you do this every day, and not every week,” Schneep said, staring into nothing. “I do not mind, though. It lets me know when it is a day, instead of just time passing.”

“I-I do what I can,” Laurens said. “See you then?”

“Yes. Of course.” He closed his eyes.

Laurens stood up, glanced at Oliver, and then the two of them proceeded to leave the room.

The moment the door was closed behind them, and they were back in the hallway, Oliver let out a breath and said, “That...you know, I felt like I shouldn’t have been as big a part of that as I was.”

Laurens adjusted her grip on her notebook, flipping it open and getting her pen ready. “Really? Personally, I...well...thank you. I don’t think that would’ve gotten anywhere if it had been just me in there.”

“No problem. Just doing my job.” Oliver paused. “Was that...was that good, what happened in there?”

“I don’t think that...ah, well, that the first part, I mean, would be good for anyone. But the rest was...actually very helpful.” Laurens wrote down everything that happened. The feeling of being controlled by something else...it wasn’t unheard of, she had other patients before who had similar feelings. And she finally felt like she knew enough so they could really start to solve this problem. It only took three months. “I guess I need to change his medication.” She bit her lip. “Do you think it would be helpful to also add...something more...I don’t know, calming? You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“I don’t want to—I mean, I—I just don’t want him to do something like that when someone’s not there to stop him,” Laurens finished quietly.

Oliver nodded. “It’s a good idea. And I’ll be honest, I’m surprised it wasn’t required from the beginning.”

“Well. I guess.” Laurens cleared her throat. God, her throat still felt a bit raspy. 

“No, I mean, really. So, Dr. Newson gave me the case file the other day. Said that since I was gonna be the number one orderly for this, I needed to know the details. There’s some...there’s some stuff in there, you know?”

Laurens paused. “It’s actually been a while since I read that.” She looked back down at her notebook.

“Well, you don’t need to read it again,” Oliver said awkwardly.

“Maybe I should.” Maybe, knowing what she knew now, it would shed some light on what had happened during those nine months.

——————

She stayed late that night, planning to do exactly that. The case file wasn’t supposed to leave the hospital grounds, but there weren’t any rules against taking it to the break room. So at least she could be comfortable while reading about murder.

Thirteen people dead...that they knew of. There was always the chance of more, undiscovered. Though the ones they’d found, given the...scenes left behind, she really hoped no one else had gone through that. This whole time, for every one of them, did Schneep really think something was controlling him, compelling him to do such things? It would explain a lot, but not everything. For example, the initial incident, with Schneep’s friend Jack, the one in the coma. What had been the reason for the operation on him? Perhaps Schneep really thought he was saving him from something worse. But what? The ‘him’ he kept seeing?

And then there was the event that had happened last year in December. Over Christmas Eve night, actually. The series of videos sent to the police spoke more of some sort of...arrogant taunting, than anything Schneep had described so far. Like it was some sort of game, daring the police to find the victims before they all died. That was the incident that had clued the police into the severity of this case. Three people died that December night alone.

That December night...

Laurens put the file down. There was something she could barely remember, something else about December. Something she’d heard in the recent weeks. Scrunching her eyes close, she tried to recall where else she’d heard that, heard of some big thing going down in December. She had the vague feeling it was also related to Schneep, and that it was also...somehow tragic...

Her eyes snapped open. Wait. No, there was no way. Was there? Laurens searched through her pockets until she found her phone, taking it out and dialing a number she’d recently saved.

The other end rang for a while before it was picked up. “Hello? Who is it?”

“Hi, Chase? It’s me, Dr. Laurens. You gave me your number, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. I should probably save you to my contacts.” Chase paused. “Is...is something wrong? I mean, you did ask for my number as an emergency contact.”

“I’m not sure. I just...remembered something.” Laurens looked back down at the file. “I don’t mean any of this to sound insensitive, but...your friend. The one who disappeared?”

“Jackie?”

“Yes. You said he disappeared back in December, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember the date?”

Chase laughed dryly. “Oh, not like I’d forget that. I mean, the last text he sent me was on Christmas Eve.”

“The 24th.”

“Yeah. I made some joke about him working on a holiday. It...it wasn’t a good Christmas, you know. Just...panicking.”

Laurens stared down at the file. That overnight search the police had been led on...had happened the night of the 24th. “Okay. That’s—that’s good to know.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she lied. “Just trying to sort things out. Thanks.”

“No problem. Oh, hey, uh...do you know if I should...come visit on Friday?”

She didn’t want to kill the hope in his voice, but she was afraid she had to. “I don’t know. It depends on what happens the next few days. If you can, I’ll let you know. Even if it’s just, like, an hour before visiting hours start on Friday. But just...plan for not coming.”

A pause. “Alright. Thanks for letting me know.”

“You should be able to come the week after,” she offered.

“Thanks. I, uh, gotta go.”

“Goodbye.” Dial tone.

Laurens stared down at the file. Two events, happening on the same day...Chase had said that Jackie was a private investigator, working on a case before he disappeared. Could he...have disappeared because...?

She slammed the file shut, breathing heavily. It could just be a coincidence. But what if it wasn’t? Should she tell someone?

Laurens felt a lump sink to the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t let Schneep know about this. She couldn’t let him know that he could be responsible for the disappearance—and maybe worse—of one of his best friends.

She’d finish the file tomorrow. And by then, she’d know what to do.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Spring Showers (Maggie x Tom Hiddles)

Because I have the self control of a goddamned gnat, have a short follow up one shot to the series: The Things You Find (In The Rain). The series can be found on my Masterlist.  I’m not as in love with this one shot as I was the series but it largely wrote itself so... *shrugs*.

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

The last three months had been a dream to Maggie. Tom had been a dream she hadn’t dared to wish for as a girl. That’s not to say that she hadn’t faced challenges, they had. But they worked through them with honest conversations and long phone calls from halfway around the world. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked well enough.

Tom was a busy man and Maggie didn’t ever expect him to drop everything for her. Early on, before she had left London they had the talk about the reality of their situation and Tom’s life. He was busy, he sometimes was distant and at times he wouldn’t be as mentally or emotionally present in their relationship no matter how much he may wish it were different.

Yet when Evan refused to agree to an annulment, the courts demanded both husband and wife present themselves for a hearing. It was the first time Maggie had seen Evan outside of the recorded interviews Luke had ever so kindly made her and Tom sit and watch while she had still been in London.  

After spending their first month together, Maggie had to return to her small South Dakota hometown, leaving everything that was hers abandoned in Evan’s home. Tom had assured her that he would prevent her from living on the streets- much to Luke’s dismay. The poor man than had to figure out how to secure an apartment for her using Tom’s funds without the world finding out.

Somehow, they managed and she had a home filled with simple furnishings. She only accepted what kindnesses she felt was required to survive. In no way did she want to feel like Tom was buying her affection or that she was using him and the relationship to save herself. Luke had arranged for someone to pick up things from Evan’s home, though the man was stingy and gave very little of her things back.

Still, when he took a middle of the night flight from London to surprise her the week of the hearing, she couldn’t help but throw her arms around him. She needed him like she needed air.

It took her breath away whenever she thought of how much she loved him already. It shouldn’t be possible but somehow, she knew what she felt for Evan wasn’t love. Now that she’d had a taste of the real thing, she knew. She had found the thing that poets and musicians spent their whole lives trying to put into words- True Love.

When Tom attended the hearing by her side as moral support, she had asked him what Luke had thought of it but he simply told her not to worry about it. She quickly learned that was code for ‘I didn’t clear this with Luke’.

Evan, of course was sure to make a scene as soon as he had seen Tom at her side when the walked into the intimidating court house. It had become his personal mission and part of Maggie wondered if Tom had begun to get a sick satisfaction from riling up the man who she had thought loved her at one time. He was sure to kiss her in front of the large oak doors before they went into the hearing, his hand remained in hers for so long as it could.

They’d gotten the annulment without much fuss, all things considered. Evan tried to claim she had used him, that he had loved her and that she had agreed to an open marriage. Having a famous boyfriend with her and the very public reports from the woman Evan had been with that fateful night had surely helped. Ava, her name turned out to be, had sent a letter to the courts stating that she was under the impression that she was in a monogamous relationship with Evan and that as far as she was told, Maggie had been his sister. She sent copies of pictures, text messages and receipts

Ava hadn’t been aware that Evan was married. In truth, Evan had asked Ava to marry him almost a year prior and so when things went down, she was just as surprised and hurt as Maggie. The two women had become fast friends when Ava had stepped out of the shadows and publicly defended her, selling the story of how Evan had scorned her as well complete with photos to the media.

<3<3<3

Now, Maggie’s fairy tail had continued. She had been on the ground in London for only a few hours and a somewhat disgruntled Luke was arranging a dress for her to wear to a gala. It would be her first public event at Tom’s side and she was beyond nervous.

Noticing this, Tom had wasted no time in ushering her out of Luke’s office, leaving the man to his angry curses and bottle of antacids as he called shop after shop. The trip and been somewhat spur of the moment and her attending the gala even more spontaneously decided. She had made simple requests of the dress, fearing anything tight or uncomfortable. Maggie was already uncomfortable and bloating as her cycle drew closer and the last thing she needed was a skin tight dress to suffocate her.

Seeking to steady her nerves, Tom arranged for them to meet Ben and Sophie at a pub nearby for an early dinner. She was assured that the gala dinners were served late into the evening and she would be hungry again by the time they had even arrived. While Tom’s goal was to make her feel more at ease at the gala, the idea of meeting his also famous friend only set her stomach into more knots.

Regardless of her nerves, she found both Ben and his wife to be just as warm and accepting as Tom had promised. They had become fast friends and her stomach was settled even before the food reached the table allowing Maggie to fully realize how hungry she actually had been.

<3<3<3<3

With lunch finished, all that was left to do before sitting and allowing Luke to dress them both like dolls was to run by Tom’s home and take Bobby out for a walk. They had time to kill still and the weather was pleasant, warm and comfortable on this spring afternoon. It would be a good day to spend in the park.

They didn’t think twice about it when Maggie stripped off her button down shirt, leaving her in her tight tank top when the warmth became too much. It was more the humidity that bothered her but she let Tom think that the London spring was warm enough on its own to drive her to removing a layer.

When Bobby was tired of fetch, they settled on the grass to enjoy simply being together. Maggie needed to rest, her abdomen was cramping up and she knew without a doubt that within a few days her body would punish her for being a woman for a week.

She settled on the ground, resting her back against Tom’s chest and nuzzling into his neck as he began to read over a script. Being in his arms, even when they were doing nothing, felt like a dream. Still, the nagging pain caused her to rub at the spot low on her stomach. When she shifted, Tom laced his fingers in hers and their hands rested together on her lower stomach, right over the cramping as she began to slowly doze off.

“Can I get you anything?” Tom mumbled into her hair.

“It will pass. It’s just cramping.”

What they didn’t realize was that someone was taking a few pictures of the happy couple. That was the sort of thing that Maggie hadn’t learned to watch for or even think about. She was still living in her own world with the man who she had fallen in love with.

<3<3<3<3

The gala was magical and Maggie was swept away in the sparkling lights and sea of people she never imagined she would meet. On occasion she had attended parties with Evan though they were far and few between. The events Evan attended had been fancy but lacked the extravagance of this gala.

Tom was asked to stand in front of what always looked to her to be some decorative wall in pictures. Now that she was here however, she could see that it was simply just a fancy version of the same photo setup her high school used for Prom only with better lights and much more cameras.

The wall was a covered tall slab of particle board centered in a wide hall. Tom emptied his pockets onto the table before standing in front of it and smiling for the cameras. He would move this way and that, changing his look a few times. Luke was ever present off to the side, watching carefully. Tom wasn’t deterred however and reached out, snagging Maggie by the arm.

Luke was quick to protest but all Tom seemed to hear was Maggie’s giggles as she was wrapped in his arms. The green dress she wore was clingier than she would have liked considering how bloated she had felt but she had been assured with the looser, flowing gauzy sparkling green layer above it covered her well. The dress complemented the green tie Tom wore with it’s hint of shimmer under the lights.

Luke was squawking something, probably protests since they were still under orders to ‘lay low’ and this probably didn’t fit that but if Tom didn’t care, should Maggie? In the end, all she was doing was following his lead. This was his life, his world and she was only just starting to step foot in it. She had to trust that Tom knew what he was doing.

All thoughts stopped when Tom’s lips found hers. It didn’t matter that they were standing in front of a number of cameras. She didn’t think about how she looked or if her lipstick would smear. Thoughts of wrinkling his suit as her fingers bunched in the fabric were a million miles away. The only things that mattered for that short moment was the feel of Tom’s arm pressing her into him and the way their lips moved together.

Eventually, far too soon for her liking, Tom pulled back with a bright smile as he looked down at her. Cameras flashed a few moments longer before Luke was ushering them off the small patch of red carpet, grumbling as he tossed back an antacid.

She followed Tom through the night, her hand always in his. They danced and talked and spent the night together in bliss. Though drinks were flowing freely, Maggie turned them each time the platters were offered to her. The last thing she wanted was to not remember her first time stepping into Tom’s professional life. Plus, alcohol tended to make the cramping worse and who wants to deal with that?

It was something she didn’t think about but a few others noticed. By morning, Tom was trending once again. Rumors spread like wildfire and one would think after the mess that had been the start of their relationship- Maggie would have been prepared for it.

Maggie woke in Tom’s arms, a place she would like to wake every morning if she could to the sound of Tom’s phone. Text messages were coming in, back to back. Never a good sign. Grumbling, Tom rolled over and grabbed the offensive device only to have it slip out of his hand and land with a thump on his chest.

A second try brought the screen to life and with her head resting on Tom’s chest, Maggie could read the messages too.

Luke: I’m in a meeting. But so help me, when I get out you better answer your bloody phone.

Luke: And have the door unlocked.

Luke: Tell me she’s not bloody knocked up

Luke: Answer me, you fucking wanker

Luke: Every goddamn gossip rag is reporting Maggie is knocked up

Luke: They have pictures.

There was a moment of silence before both Tom and Maggie fell into a fit of giggles. Whatever rumors were spreading, they would face them together. A pregnancy rumor didn’t strike fear in their hearts. They had faced worse and they would get through this the same way they got through everything else, together.

Assuming they survived Luke’s attack.

“I bet you breakfast he’s going to make me take a test.” Maggie mumbled into Tom’s chest as he wrapped her once again in his arms. He turned, rolling her onto her back and kissed her sweetly. The feeling of his bare back under her fingers was addicting.

“I could just not open the door.” Tom whispered, as if Luke would somehow hear his words from the other side of the city. “We can stay in bed and distract ourselves from the nasty rumors.”

“Doesn’t he have a key?” Maggie offered, laughing as she pushed against his chest as Tom grunted in agreement, far too busy kissing down her neck to bother speaking. “Let’s not scar him for life.”

“I think that ship sailed when I punched Evan.” Tom laughed, finally sitting back when her stomach grumbled. “Fine, let’s eat.”

“You think Luke’s going to kill us this time?” Maggie asked, slipping a pair of panties up her legs.

“No, probably not. But we should start making some wills up just in case.”

<3<3<3<3

Tag List: 

@just-the-hiddles, @jennytwoshoes, @alexakeyloveloki, @dangertoozmanykids101, @theoneanna, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @bambamwolf87, @missaphrodite23, @j-u-s-t-4, @wegingerangelica, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @michelegurl, @iloveyouthreethousand-o6

[badwolf-in-the-impala]

~Come Away to The Water~

|| Chapter One - Dead of Winter ||  

Inspiration: Come Away to the Water by Maroon 5 ft. Rozzi Crane

Storyboard Credit: Myself. Pictures not mine, but editing and collage is.

Pairings: Harald Finehair x OFC ((face claim - Sophie Turner))

Rating: Mature/18+

General warnings: Death, Violence, Gore, Graphic content, Abuse, Kidnapping, Sexual content.

Chapter warnings: Depictions of death, gory-ish details? Angst.

A/N: EDIT: SO, it’s been forever since I touched this story...Or well, posted anything for that fact lol but I finally found some inspo on where I wanna go with this story, so I’ve edited/added to the first chapter! I hope you guys enjoy! SHOUTOUT to @jacksonroseroth​ for your help, darlin’! New fic idea say waaaaa?! Anywho, thank you for taking a moment of your time to stop and read; it means a lot ^-^ Obviously this is a work of fiction, so I apologize if things aren’t 100% HISTORICALLY accurate. I’ve spent a lot of time researching the past few days trying to certain aspects as close as possible. So bare with me! 

Feedback is always welcomed and much appreciated! I hope you guys enjoy! Also I want to add that the beginning italic is a flashback scene...Dialogue, bold and italic is to distinguish the language barrier between Rowan and Harald.

Word Count:  5099

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“Come away little lamb come away to the water Give yourself so we might live anew Come away little lamb come away to the slaughter”

~ “Do try nah to stray so far from the path this time, Rowan…” Her mother sighed deeply as she fastened the heavy black fur cloak around her daughters shoulders; settling a small sack of provisions in her hands. “It worries me’h.”

“Dinna worry yer’self, Ma.” Rowan smiled warmly, pressing a kiss to her mother’s cheek gently as she drew up the hood to cover her flame kissed hair. “I’ll be fine.”

The older woman cracked a small grin as she cupped her daughters cheek, patting it affectionately. “Y’er to much like y’er Da.” She shook her head lightly as she watched her daughter slip the bow over her head, settling it with the string across her chest before snatching up the quiver of arrows. “Jus’ be back ‘fore dark...There’s a storm comin’!”

“Aye, Ma.” Rowan chuckled softly with a roll over her Emerald eyes before placing a kiss atop each of her three younger siblings heads. “Behave yourselves, ya wee savages.” She teased lightly, earning a pair of giggles out of the two youngest. A set of identical twins of just barely five years.

“Are ye goin’ to bring us back a Stag, Rowey?!” Alana questioned excitedly.

“Aye, are ye, are ye?” Ainslie echoed as she bounced in her seat, equally as excited as her sister.

“I’ll most certainly try.” Rowan winked as she reached for the front door, pausing when she felt a slight tug on her cloak. Turning to find her youngest brother peering up at her sheepishly.

“C-Can I? P-Please?” He stuttered nervously, looking down at his feet as Rowan shook her head no.

“Nay. Not today, Findley.” She gave her youngest brothers shoulder a reassuring squeeze and ruffled his dark auburn hair, before leaning back to snatch a couple of bannocks off the table. “Perhaps after the storm passes...I’ll teach ye how to catch rabbits.”

“P-Promise?”

“Aye.” She grinned softly, earning a shy smile out of the young boy in return. “I promise.”

With a final goodbye to her mother and siblings, Rowan pushed open the creaky wooden door of the small stone and wood built bothy, that their large family of Six shared; stepping out into the frigid early morning air. Her leather and fur clad foot catching the back of her own twins leg, as she passed by. Tossing him the second bannock she held, causing him to pause mid-swing on the chunk of wood he had been about to split as he caught it. Beaming a smile as he thanked her around a mouthful of food.

“Spend some time with Finn today, eh?” Rowan called over her shoulder as she started towards the path that lead out of the Village and down towards the river. Turning back to shoot her brother a glare at the annoyed groan he gave her in return.

“Don’ make me tell Ma what ye’ve been gettin’ up to with Flora now, Kai! She threatened.

“Ye wouldn’t?!”

Rowan simply shrugged, throwing her brother a mischievous grin before trotting off down the path towards the water. Ignoring her brothers voice as he called after her. Begrudgingly agreeing that he would spend some time with Finn later.

~

The day continued on as normal as any other. Rowan took her time trekking through the woods, setting and checking snares along her usual path. A smile creeping onto her lips as she spied a set of tracks -- those of a stag -- just off the main trailhead.

It had been well over a month since she had brought home a Stag, or any other large game for that matter, and the thought of having fresh meat on the table again, made her mouth water. But more importantly the thought of seeing the smiles it would bring to her family’s faces made the aspect of the hunt seem all the more worthwhile as she reset her final snare. Taking a final glance around to get her bearings, before venturing off the beaten path and deeper into the forest.

Rowan tracked the animal well into the late afternoon before it was finally snowing too hard for her to safely venture any farther. The Stag having remained, teasingly, just out of her reach the entire time. Taunting her almost, as they trailed deeper and deeper into the woods until it was too late to turn back. Forcing her to seek shelter for the night in an abandoned den she stumbled across on the hunt.

The wind blew too fiercely for her to start a fire, which forced her to settle for pulling the thick fur cloak she wore around herself tightly, in an attempt to stay warm. Burrowing down into the fallen leaves and debris that surrounded her as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach...But she wasn’t quite able to place a finger on it.

This hadn’t been the first time she was caught out in a storm over night like this and never before had it been -- nor would it likely ever be -- an issue. Her father having taken extra care to teach her, as well as her twin brother, everything they needed to know about surviving in the wild, from a young age; Until his untimely death just a few short years ago. She knew how to take care of herself regardless of the situation...She would be fine.

But that still did little to quell the worry that settled in the back of her mind as Rowan sighed, clutching her cloak tighter around herself as she closed her eyes. Attempting to push the worry from her thoughts the best she could as she tried to make herself comfortable. She knew for certain that her mother and the wee ones would be worried sick that she had not returned yet, but that come first light, Kai would be out to meet her halfway on the trail just like he always did.

But for the time being, she was at the mercy of the Gods.

~

The weather had cleared come dawn, allowing Rowan to venture out from the safety of the den she called home for the night. Brushing away the moss and dries leaves from her clothes as she emerged with a stretch, pausing to grab a bannock and a piece of dried fish from the small sack of provisions she carried. Thankful that her mother had insisted upon her taking it with her as she nibbled away at it; beginning the trekk back towards her Village.  

The ground was covered in a fresh layer of ankle deep snow, making the journey twice as long and twice as treacherous as it concealed many things beneath its shimmering surface -- like ice and root snarls -- that could pose a threat to a serious injury, if one was not sure of their footing. It made her that much more thankful she had spent so much of her youth exploring these woods with Kai and their father...It was her home away from home, and she knew it like the back of her hand. Which in turn helped her to make decent time on her return to the main path. It also made her more aware of things that most anyone else would often overlook naturally. Like how nature had suddenly fallen into an eerie silence as she stepped back onto the main path, noting how the snow was still fresh; untouched.  

The uneasy feeling from the night before suddenly returned to settle in the pit of her stomach, tying it up in knots as she looked up at the sky. It was well past mid-morning and there were no signs that Kai had yet been there, which struck her as unusual. He was always waiting, no matter the hour.  

A jolt of anxiety shot through her like lightning as she took off down the path, willing her feet to carry her faster as she broke through the treeline and out into the open. The silence around her deafening, aside from the sound of the River as she raced along its edge, wading the crossing swiftly, trying her best to ignore the icy sting of the water as it soaked her boots, only adding to her struggle as she stumbled up the snow slick hill that lead to her home...That surge of anxiety quickly morphing into fear as she watched thick plumes of black smoke billowing into the grey Winter sky.

Rowan’s heart nearly stopped as she crested over the top of the hill, a scream ripping from her lungs at the sight of the damage that lay before her. What was left of her people stood gathered round in a wash of tears, disbelief and despair. Their homes and outbuildings still blazed, while others only smoldered now; Reduced to rubble, or turned to ash. Their Livestock hung from trees and fences, slaughtered. All their stores of produce and provisions set aside for winter, gone.

Bodies lie butchered, scattered along the ground, tainting the once pure white snow a sickening shade of dark crimson. Her boots imprinting a trail of red in the snow behind her, as she ran towards her family’s home that still smoldered. Rowan ignoring the sting of burning flesh as she dug frantically at what remained of the building. Tears streaming down her face as she cried out for Mother and siblings.

“They’re gone, Rowan.” A neighbor approached quickly, grabbing her by the shoulders gently as he urged her away from the still crumbling building to safety. Rowan pulling away, stumbling a few feet where she fell to her knees at the sight of Kai’s body; lifeless on the ground. His dark hair and fair skin matted with drying blood...An axe protruding from the center of his chest.

“I-I’m s-s-or-ry…” A broken sob left her lips as she covered his blue eyes -- still widened with fear -- with her hand and slipped them closed.

“Ma--…The twins?”

The woman who approached her before, now shook her head. The look on her face a solemn one as she knelt beside the broken young woman before her, taking her forearms gently and pulling her up to her feet as she embraced her.

“The Danes took ‘em...Ye and Findley are all that’s left.”

“Findley?” The name fell as a hoarse whisper from her lips, as green eyes tried desperately to blink back tears as she pulled away to look up.

“Aye, he lives...But jus’ barely.” The woman grinned softly as she replied, though the gesture was less than hopeful. The woman raising a finger to silence Rowan as she knew what was about to come next.

“Ye can not see him jus’ yet, Lass.” She stated gently, with a soft pat against Rowan’s arms. “Let us go an’ take care of those burns first...”  

Turning as the woman lead her away to one of the healers, Rowan gave a final glance at the carnage that lay all around her. Wondering what they had done to deserve such a senseless act of violence...Innocent families, women, children?

They had heard Tales of the vicious Northmen -- Danes as many called them -- that ruled over the Seas. Pillaging and plundering places of riches and nobility…But Rowan’s people were no more than simple farmers; hunters and fishermen. What would the Norsemen want with them?

Never once had her own people consider, that one day, they might set foot in the Highlands...Something that left them unprepared, and defenseless to the ruthless attack.

Leaving the place she called her homeland...Broken and in ruin.

~

Rowan’s chest heaved erratically as she sat bolt upright in her bed, clutching the furs to her chest as she swiped a hand across her forehead, finding it slick with sweat as she pushed back the fiery red locks that were matted to her skin. A sigh escaping her lips quietly. It had been quite some time since she’d had a nightmare about that fateful day...The day her family was so cruelly taken from her. It had been nearly five years now, but the wounds were still fresh in her mind like it had happened only yesterday.

Frowning to herself, Rowan pushed the furs from her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering as her bare feet touched the cold dirt covered floor as she wrapped herself in one of the furs tightly as she walked to the window; pushing the shutter open. The sun had barely even begun to rise over the mountains, showering the glen in a twilight glow as it cast  shadows through the trees. Everything around them lay quiet and completely still, as if basking in the arrival of a new day.

Pulling her gaze away from the rapid approach of dawn just outside their small home, Rowan turned and walked towards the fire on the opposite side of the room. Adjusting the fur into one hand as she added more kindling and wood to the glowing embers that resided in the hearth; kneeling and blowing gently until the fire blazed back to life.

Once she was satisfied with the heat emitted from the fire, Rowan stood and returned to the foot of her bed, opening the small wooden trunk that lie there as she began piecing together an outfit for the day. Dressing in her warmest pair of trousers and a light blue tunic made from a heavier wool material for added warmth. Securing it with a thin leather belt before tugging on her boots.

She discarded her night shirt into the wash pile before returning the fur to its place on her bed as she made it for the day. A small smile tugging at her lips as a pitiful low pitched whine caught her attention, turning to find the large gray wolf she called her companion, now sitting beside the fire. Having climbed down from her little brother’s bed;  head tipped curiously as it watched her.

“Don’t be impatient, ya greedy breast. I dinna forget abou’ ye.” She quipped as she rummaged around for some bits of dried meat and bannocks to take out with her. Tossing the wolf a small chunk of meat she kept aside specifically for him, before throwing together a small pot of wheat porridge for Findley and setting it up over the fire to cook.

“Go on now.” She waved her hand to where her young brother still slept soundly. “Go an’ wake the boy.” The wolf gave a snort as it rose to all fours, giving a long stretch before the beast trotted across the room and leapt gracefully onto the bed. The large animal laying directly on top of Findlay as he commenced to licking the boys face repeatedly with it’s large tongue.

“Ugh, get off me ya brute!” Findley yelped out as he squirmed beneath the large animal, trying to push him off to no avail. Rowan chuckled softly, watching her brother struggle for a moment longer before she gave a sharp whistle to call him off. The wolf jumping down from the bed and coming over to sit beside her, accepting a small piece of bannock she offered before popping the last bite into her mouth with a grin. Her little brother glowered at her from the edge of his bed where he now sat upright.

“Good mornin’ to ye too, Fin.” She snickered with an amused grin.

“Mornin’...” Findley grumbled back crankily as he climbed out of bed and moved to warm himself beside the fire. Lifting the lid on the small pot briefly to inspect what was inside of it.

“Should be done soon.” Rowan stated as she moved to grab her heavy black fur cloak and pull it on, before gathering her game bag, bow and quiver. “I need to check the traps, so it’s up to ye to get the animals fed an’ taken care of. Can ye handle that?”

Findley gave a curt nod as he grabbed a bannock off the table and began devouring it. “Aye, I can handle it.” He spoke around a mouth full of food, Rowan rolling her eyes in response as she shook her head.

“Don’t talk with ye’r mouthful, ya heathen.” She chided with a playful grin before continuing. “If ye need help with anythin’, go an’ fetch young Turick to help ye. Got it?”

“Aye…” Findley sighed in annoyance with an eye roll, which in turn earned him a glare from his older sister. “I’m a cripple, Row, tha’ does not mean I’m useless.” He muttered self consciously as his right hand ventured absentmindedly to the stump of his left shoulder. A deep frown creasing his features.

“I never called ye useless, Fin.” Rowan stepped forward, reaching out to grasp his chin lightly and turn his attention back towards her. “I jus’ don’t want ye hurtin’ yer’self more than necessary...Besides, if ye hurt y’er good arm, who’s going to milk the cows?”

Findley swatted her hand away with a playful glare as he cracked half a smile. “I got it handled.” He reassured in a sarcastic tone, shooting her a real glare as she reached out and ruffled his red hair affectionately.

“I’ll be back this afternoon. Do try an’ stay out of trouble, eh?” Rowan called over her shoulder as she pushed the front door open and stepped out into the brisk morning air; wolf in tow as he trotted along beside her happily, as they mosied down the path.

~

The day came to pass quite quickly for Rowan and her furry companion, Faolan. The pair making quick work of checking and resetting snares, before venturing a little deeper into the woods in search of some smaller game, before returning to the village to go about finishing up evening chores; the workload increasing as signs of Spring steadily approached. Soon they would be tilling fields to plant their crops, tending to the animals that would soon produce offspring, making repairs to homes, building new boats for trading travels...The list was truly endless, and Rowan looked forward to the distractions that the work promised.

Winters had become exceptionally difficult since suffering the loss of nearly her entire family. Everyday a struggle against the guilt that she kept bottled up inside. Rowan somehow feeling responsible for what had happened to her family; to Fin. Constantly replaying that day over and over in her head. Always wondering if things could have turned out differently, had she stayed home that day with her family. Maybe she could have protected them...Or maybe she would’ve shared in their fate. But then what would have become of poor Findley?

Rowan sighed as they paused to rest beside a small stream. Faolan letting out a soft whine as he rested his head against her thigh; sensing her distress. A small smile tugging at her lips as she gave him an affectionate scratch behind the ears, his warm, intelligent brown eyes drifting shut for a moment as gave a contented sigh. Rowan silently thankful that the gods had granted such a wonderful guardian to watch over her and Findley. The wolf coming into their lives not long after the deaths of their kin. Just a pup himself when Rowan had stumbled upon him in the forest...Still clinging to his own mother and siblings who had long since perished from starvation and cold.

The village had been less than thrilled to say the least, when Rowan brought the small bundle of fur home. Several of the elder woman trying to advise her that the beast could would never be tamed nor broken; But they couldn’t have been more wrong. For Faolan had been the key that aided them in their journey to healing...And they his. The wolf having more than earned his keep around the village since becoming part of their broken pack. 

“Suppose we should be gettin’ back, eh?” Rowan sighed softly as she gave the wolf a final pat on the head before standing. Gathering her game bag and slinging it over her shoulder as she turned her back to the steam. “Come, mo charaid…’Fore Fin starts worryin’.” Faolan let out a sharp series of yips in answer as he bounded from his spot, darting between the trees playfully for a moment before laying down a ways up the trail as he waited. Rowan letting out a small laugh at the wolfs antics as she quickened her pace, taking the hint as they hurried off. Head for their usual detour as they made the trek for home. ~

Dusk was approaching by the time the group finally reached the shores of a seeming desolate beach. The ships, as well as their men, battered from an unexpected storm that had caught them off guard a day prior. “We’ll camp here for now...Start salvaging what we can to make repairs come dawn, before continuing on to York.” Harald instructed once the boats had been pulled safely to shore; A fire started for the men to get warm as they assembled camp. Harald quick to assemble a plan for his men, in order to get moving again as soon as possible. Not pleased with the unexpected detour they had been forced to make on their journey to York.

“You three.” Harald turned to address a group of younger Viking men, who stood opposite him beside the fire. “Gather what wood you can; And you two,” He gestured towards a pair of more experienced men, usually assigned to watch. “Survey the area...I do not want any more unexpected surprises.” The men nodded, accepting their assigned duties before dismissing themselves. Harald letting out a sigh as he turned for one of the tents that had already been assembled...Taking a seat and grabbing a cup of mead, trying to quell his frustrations as he watched his men continue to set up camp. While Harald drank his frustrations away, the two experienced men set off up the beach, climbing the dunes on the beach and venturing into the forest beyond.

“Fine time to set up camp…” The first man grumbled as they trudged the Scottish land. The second man grunted in response as they settled on a spot and began building a small fire. The warmth from the flames doing little to warm the chill that had settled in their bones. “The cold here is different...I don’t like it.”

“They say we’re the heathens.” The first man chuckled. “Pass us the ale…” The second man obliged his friends request. Reaching over to grab the ale horn from beside his axe, taking a swig himself before passing it over and returning his hands to warm by the fire. As the men chatted away, Rowan made her way to the beach, stopping and dropping to the ground when she spotted the men encamped on the beach. Swearing in Gaelic, she gripped the scruff at Faolan’s neck to make sure he didn’t growl and give their position away. She took her bag off and strapped it around the beast’s.

“Go home, Faolan. I’ll be right behind ye.” Rowan whispered. The wolf let out a small whine before he turned away, making his way back to the village while Rowan stayed, counting the men so she could give an accurate report to the village elders. When her eyes met Harald’s, Rowan ducked and crawled along the brush until she was far enough into the foliage before she stood and hurried along behind Faolan.

“What was that?” The first man asked, looking up at the sound of twigs snapping. He reached down, fingers wrapping around the axe at his side as he scanned the surrounding area, looking for movement. Both men saw the flash of gray fur pass quickly by, followed by a flame of red hair; Visible even in the darkness. The second man motioned for the first to split off towards the left, while he tracked the intruders on the right. Trailing silently after them into the darkness of the woods, but eventually losing sight as the darkness became too much; Slowing their progress significantly.

“Go.” The second man ordered quietly, gesturing back towards the beach. “Tell King Harald what we’ve found, and assemble more men for a search. I will try and the trail.” The first man nodded and turned back towards camp. Leaving his companion to assemble a torch and continue the search.  

Meanwhile, Rowan continued to move swiftly through the darkness. Picking her way carefully over fallen debris and tangled tree roots as she strayed away from the main trail; attempting to lose the enemies who likely now pursued her, as she fled towards her village. Hoping she would have enough time to warn her people of a potential attack before it was too late. Anger and fear building inside of her chest as she pushed herself harder, bound and determined to not let her people suffer through another attack like they had all those years ago.

The sound of twigs snapping several feet away from behind her, made Rowan turn, a knot forming in her stomach as she spotted the faint glow of a torch coming over the small rise she had just climbed. Ducking behind a tree, she shielded herself from sight momentarily as she closed her eyes...Rowan’s heart sinking as she came to the realization that she would be unable to return to her village safely, without risking the exposure of their location to a potential attack. She knew what she had to do, but that didn’t make the choice any easier as she let out a soft, shaky sigh. Opening her green eyes as slipped the bow over her head carefully, and nocked an arrow. Sending up a silent prayer for the gods to protect her family — her people — before drawing back the sting of her bow, and stepping into the open. A steady breath leaving her lips as she released the arrow towards its target, the startled yelp that followed signaling that she had struck her target.

Rowan using the distraction as her opportunity to change directions, doubling back, as she began leading her enemy away from her village, and deeper into the woods. Another arrow nocked and ready to fire as she neared the next ridge; ducking behind another tree as she waited for the torch to appear again...Her heart rate quickening when she turned to find that the light had been extinguished. A wave of panic washed over her as she struggled to pick up on the faint footsteps that rustled from somewhere in the darkness. Unable to determine what direction they were coming from, Rowan was left to make a split decision, as she darted from behind the tree, hoping she could make a break for the treeline. 

The flash of red hair was all they needed, as Harald gave the signal for their own archer to take a shot; the man loosing the arrow as the rest of the men relit their torches. Harald watching as the form stumbled in the darkness, but only for a moment before darting off once more.  A smirk creeping onto his lips as they took up their pursuit once more, driving their prey back towards the edge of the forest, where more of his men lie in wait to capture whoever it was that they had been chasing all over the woods...But the small victory soon faded from his thoughts as bone chilling howl pierced the silence, followed by a series of snarls and growls that brought the group to a stand still.

Rowan stumbled as she ran through the treeline and out into the open, coming to stop as she was greeted by a rather unwelcoming sight, as a group of men closed in on her. Rowan quick to draw back the string of her bow in defense, ignoring the searing pain in her shoulder the action caused, from having been struck by an arrow herself. The edges of her lips quirking into a faint smirk as she heard the howl that broke the silence and caused several of the men to glance towards the treeline; Searching. Rowan seizing the opportunity to loose her arrow into the man nearest to her, watching as he crumpled to the ground as the arrow struck him between the eyes, her next arrow nocked before the man had even full collided with the earth. Another man lunged towards her, catching the second arrow as a series of shouts broke out amongst the group of men in front of her...Their words foreign to her as they spoke.

“Come on. Come get me, ye heathens…” She said with a smirk, fingering the feather fletching of her arrow. Rowan readied her bow again, waiting for the next victim to step forward and make their move. She knew that she stood very little chance against these men, but that didn’t mean that she would go down without a fight. Another series of shouts erupted from the woods, causing Rowan to turn and glance over her shoulder as the shouts quickly dissolved into one horrified scream that was followed by vicious snarling and the sounds of teeth ripping into flesh. Another man used her distraction to strike her with the hilt of his sword; sending Rowan to the ground as her vision blurred around the edges. A foot kicking her bow out of her reach as it approached from behind. Rowan struggling to focus on the man’s face as she glanced up, recognizing him as the man from the beach.

“Bind her and take her back to the beach.” Harald ordered as surveyed the two dead men that lie on the ground in front of him, before turning his attention to look down at the fiery haired woman who struggled against the two vikings who hauled her to her feet before their King. Allowing him a brief moment to examine her more closely as he grasped her jaw tightly, forcing her to look at him; Rowan’s eyes struggling to maintain focus as the edges over her vision started to turn black...The last thing she saw being a flash of gray fur, followed by nothing.

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

So that’s the first chapter! I hope ya’ll liked it...I also wanna add ((don’t quote me on it as I used google traslate)) that Mo charaid means ‘My friend’ Gaelic. And Faolan means Little Wolf.

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist for future updates!

MASTER TAGLIST:  @jacksonroth​ @greennightspider @captstefanbrandt​ @microsmacrosandneedles​ @irishhiggins​ @naaladareia​ @liiv0urlifee @readsalot73 @readsalot73​ @londoncharlotte88 @theworld-is-ahead @zazasblogxx @ly–canthrope @harjumus @jade770 @that-goodgirl @xxwarhawk @stacie-marie-bloom @journeyrose @theskinofmyemotions @synnersaint @12grimauldp @sympathyfortheblinderdevil​ @ilooklikeididyesterday​ @inforapound​

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 33

Chapter Summary -   Having been a couple privately for just over a month, Danielle and Tom talk on the phone while she is on set. When news that Taylor's private jet is in London reaches them, Tom reassures Danielle it is not what the online rags are suggesting, he is not meeting with her. But then, it comes to light why Taylor's plane is there, and Tom is not her focus.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Note - Smut in this chapter.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum@nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“I can’t wait to see you.” Tom’s voice seemed husky over the phone.

“Go to sleep, I can hear the jetlag from here.” Danielle scolded.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tom stated; she could almost hear him doing a military salute. “When are you back?”

“Saturday, but I have to go straight to Suffolk, I really need to see poor Mac, he must think I’ve abandoned him.”

“Mum says he is curled up in front of the fire as happy as Larry.” “I really want to know who the hell Larry is, and why is he always so happy.” She commented back. “Yes, so do I.” Tom chuckled. “So, if it’s alright with you, I was hoping I could see you this weekend?”

“Your mum, though. How can we possibly manage that?” “I know, I know it will be more difficult, until we tell them, by the way, why aren’t we telling her?”

“Tom, can you imagine what she is going to say?”

“She is going to be happy; you know that she adores you.” Tom countered before he yawned. “I am going to get some sleep and head to mum’s tomorrow.” “I’m not there til the weekend.” “But I want mum to cook me food.” “You are such a mummy’s boy Tom Hiddleston.” She laughed. “You say that as though I would deny it.” That only caused her to laugh more. “Are you enjoying it, your job I mean?” “Yeah.” There was a small waver in her voice.

“Elle?” “I’m just…I feel so drained, you know?” “Yes, I do. You see it a lot, I mean, the cast have it fairly tiring, long hours, learning lines, hours of standing around waiting for it to be perfect conditions, retake after retake, but while they are doing that, the crew are there before them, working through, and even after.” He explained.

“Exactly.” She smiled, happy he understood her. “I miss you.” “I miss you too, darling.”

“Shit, I am being called back, I will text you as the day goes on, Tom.” “Not if I text you first.” His smile audible through the phone. “You are adorkable, you know that?” “So I have been told. I better let you go. I will talk to you later. Bye, darling.” “Bye Tom.”

Tom smiled as he came off the phone, excited for the few days ahead, getting to see his mum and Danielle, all away from the hustle and bustle of city life. He went to call his mother to check if she minded him coming, knowing full well she wouldn’t. When he realised there was a text from Benedict.

Ben – Just a heads up.

And under it, a link to an article stating that Taylor’s plane was in Stansted, and the article implying she was back in Britain to see him.

Tom – Cheers mate.

Ben – You might want to warn Danielle.

Tom – Why?

Ben – Well, I know she is not one to jump to conclusions man, but she needs to be reassured, same as anyone else.

Tom – Right. Good thinking.

Tom got up Danielle’s number.

Tom – Darling, there is a story going around online that Taylor is in London, to see me, I know I don’t need to tell you, but I am not meeting her, I just wanted to give you reassurance.

Danielle – Not sure why you thought I would be worried. : )

Tom – Well, Ben thought it best to warn you, just in case.

Danielle – That is very good of you both. Tell him I say thank you.

Tom – He is still badgering me regarding when this dinner is happening.

Danielle – Shit, I am busy for ages after this at evening time.

Tom – I know, you mentioned that already. We could invite them to Suffolk?

Danielle – Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Can you check if they can come, it’s a long enough drive for them for some dinner! Shit, I am needed, apparently, there is talk of an explosion, why do they want explosions, there is no need for a fucking explosion.

Tom – Don’t work an action film, darling.

Danielle – The stress would kill me. Bye. Xx

Tom smiled at the phone for a moment before getting back to Benedict.

Tom – She’s not overly bothered.

Ben – Good. Now, about that dinner….

Tom – Are you and Sophie available anytime over the weekend?

Ben – we are, but I thought you said she was in Suffolk.

Tom – She is going to be, and I am going to be there tomorrow.

Ben – Then how is that conducive to us all having a meal?

Tom – can you and Sophie come here?

Ben – What day suits? Apparently, the idea of not being hostess is enticing to my pregnant wife.

Tom – Saturday, 7 pm.

Ben – I’ll get my parents to mind Kit.

With plans made, Tom beamed excitedly; he gave Elle a quick text to say what was going on and went to grab his running gear.

*

“So, any plans for the Bank Holiday, Irish?” Jack, a member of the sound crew asked as the crew all circled the food tent.

“Home, see my dog, my boyfriend, have a few friends over, you?”

“Football.” He beamed.

“Soccer.” She nodded. “Any good matches on? Or are you just waiting to see Man Utd sink to the bottom of the table gracelessly?” “A woman who actually understands the Premier League, a rare commodity around here.” “I just like sports.” She shrugged, “Soccer is sort of a religion here, so you know, can’t help but know about it.”

“And who do you support?” Jeff, the gaffer, asked. “Who says I support it?” “Do you?” “Arsenal.” She grinned. “My uncle lived next to Highbury for years, I remember him bringing me to a game as a kid.” They ate discussing the soccer, and the rise and fall of great players and teams for a while. When they say the director coming over, they groaned slightly.

“It’s not two yet,” Jeff complained.

“No, but we are being told to hurry on.” He groaned.

“You sound as happy as us about that.” Mike, a sound technician noted.

“Apparently, our whole movie is in the way of a not previously booked music video shoot.” His irritation clear.

Danielle had a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Really?”

“Yes; and this princess is not one to be said no to.”

“Because, let me guess, she is richer than we’ll ever be, and saying no to her means about four scathing songs and a lawsuit saying we cost her a hundred million in lost revenue?” The crew looked at her. “You sound like you know who it is?”

“I have a fair idea.” “So you know Taylor Swift?” The director asked. “Have you worked with her before?” “Fuck no,” Danielle commented. “I….I have had less than pleasant interactions with her, and I very much would like to keep the interactions I have had as the only ones I will ever have.” She rose to her feet. “Where am I needed, and how quick can I get out of here?” “The set is ready for inspection.” The director commented, looking at her carefully. “She is shooting a video here in an hour.” “We can’t get the scene done in that.” One of the camera crew groaned.

“We can and we will if the cast do it right, apparently she has a new song that needs to be shot in this studio, today, and regarding you going home Danni, I’m afraid you are asked to stay behind, there are safety concerns.” “Surely her video production company have people that deal with that, she is effectively their greatest financial asset, so surely they have people that they trust not to want to her get hurt.” She stated immediately. “I mean it, Bill, I am going home.” “Danni…” “Seriously, fire me if you have to, I am fucking not going to be here when that bitch arrives.” She stated and stormed off.

“Well now, that is interesting,” Jeff commented. “What’s that about?” Condon sighed. “Danni has been photographed with Tom Hiddleston and linked to him when he was with Swift, apparently they are close family friends and Ms. Swift was none too happy about it, there are even stories that Danni is the one that caused them to break up.” “Jesus.” Jeff laughed. “So there is a fair chance that Danni is the person the song is about then?” he joked.

Bill gave him an odd look. “It was Swift herself that said to have her here; she specifically asked the studio that Danni be the Safety Officer.” “Why would she do that if she hates her?” “Because, I think Jeff’s right, whatever she is squawking on about this time, it is for Danni to hear, up close, front and centre.”

* Danielle was forced to swallow back her tears of anger. It was made clear, the manager of the production studio came to her himself, either she does as she was told and remain on set, or she would be fired on the spot and her name blacklisted. Taylor choosing the studio was bigger than she ever could be, and they were willing to bend over backwards for the American star. If she wanted Danielle there, then Danielle would be there.

Danielle knew why she wanted her there, she knew it was to say something, to do something, to make Danielle angry, to try and provoke her, make the pop tart the victim of another terrible mean bully; so, composing herself, she readied herself for whatever was to come, knowing that whatever it was, she could take it, because, at the end of the day, Tom had chosen her over Taylor.