#after making this I kinda forgot that I changed the way she’d lose her leg oops

[camping-with-monsters]

Wanna Guess The Ending, If It Ever Does.

Uhhh just another small animatic I recently made guh. Poor Cinder 😭

[aryareyes]

Title : Happiness

Pairing : Gruvia

Summary : Basically a gruvia family fluff. (Because I really needed to read or write something of them).

Enjoy your reading!

*

If you asked Gray who's his most favorite person in the world, he would've said « Juvia » without an ounce of hesitation. Because, yes, she was his world, his light (even if he won't say that to her). She was the person he loved the most and she'd always be his favorite.

But all these beliefs were crashed down when he realized that he could no more say that Juvia was his absolute favorite, that he could love someone as much as loved her (or a little bit more). And that too before even meeting the said person.

He realized it the day he held his little princess for the first time. She was too tiny that Gray almost flipped that she'll slip through his arms. She was crying and when he carried her in his arms (after Juvia convincing him that he won't drop their baby), he held her gently and delicately too afraid to do any movement.

The crying girl opened wide her deep ocean blue eyes, just like his Juvia and smiled. Actually smiled. The emotion he felt that very instant was nothing like he ever felt in his twenty-five years of existence. He could still feel his knees go wobbly, his arms shaky and tears forming in his eyes as he held the life that he and his wife created together. Their daughter. Their everything. He didn't even mind Juvia liking her more than him, because common how can he be jealous of her? Of his cute little princess? She was so pure and so beautiful and the moment she laid eyes on him, Gray promised himself to always protect her and never let her feel any kind of pain. Yep. As hard as it was to believe, the great Gray Fullbuster was nothing but a total softie around his precious snowflake.

Which is why, Gray was lied on the ground with a big smile as his princess sat on his chest, her little hands gripping his cheeks and hair in a comical way. When she got the grimace she wanted from her father, her musical laugher filled the room and Gray laughed with her, his heart filling with love for his daughter.

He heard a clic and both father and daughter glanced over to find Juvia with a camera lacrima. She removed it from her face with a bright smile as she looked at her loves. Her baby squealed happily raising her arms up expectantly at her mother. (She was four months old and she couldn't crawl). Juvia almost melted at the sight and hurried toward them not minding the toys all over the floor. When she was at Gray's reach, he grinned and pulled her leg making her fall and caught her in an arm as he held the baby in his other arm. Juvia only gasped before she found herself staring at her husband's handsome face.

Even after having a child with her, he's always the handsome young man she met years ago. If so he's become even more handsome, like right now, he'd his hair held back with a band as it was a little bit longer, his eyes held the same warmth and love and his lips were sexier. Juvia was sometimes jealous of him, her body changed a lot with the pregnancy and even after losing weight after the childbirth, she still felt bigger and sensitive—very sensitive. But her Gray-sama was attractive and alluring as usual, any woman would stop and look at him when they walked out on the streets.

- " Boop." She got out of her trance surprised as Gray tapped her nose with a finger, a smirk tugging on his lips as his arms shifted around her.

- " Quite checking me out Wat'drop, even if I'm quite an irresistible sight."

She rolled her eyes with a smile as he placed a kiss on her cheek. Their baby protested, and Gray lifted an eyebrow.

- " See, she doesn't like you checking me out, she wants me all herself."

- " You mean she wants me to herself," she mumbled before smiling at their baby and taking her in her arms, she kissed her cheeks and face. Their little girl giggled, as Juvia lied down on his chest with his princess in her arms.

Juvia glanced up at him again then, a pout on her face. "And you're mine— no ours, right baby? Dad is ours, isn't he?" The little girl nodded her head making her blue curls bounce around her face as if she understood her mother's words.

Gray laughed softly, cupping her cheeks, "Of course, I'm all yours Yuki," he winked at his wife, "Not mama's..." His eyes trailed to Juvia's playful glare and he decided to play along. "She got me enough for years, I'm bored but now that you're finally here, I'm all yours."

With that he took Yuki in his arms and lifted her up with a grin as the little girl squealed and battled her legs asking for him to do it again and again. Juvia, lying on her side, could only watch them with a beautiful smile. Ever since he held her in his arms, her Gray-sama was under the spell of her snowflake. She was kinda proud of her daughter, because she needed three years of chasing to make the man fall for her while Yuki made him fall in an instant, with a simple smile. She sometimes would wonder how would he react when his little snowflake grow up and boys around her.

- " What're you thinking about?" Gray asked as Yuki was now, lying on his chest, eyes closing sleepily. She smiled.

- " You're always so natural with her, Juvia won't get enough of seeing both of you together."

Gray's mouth stretched in a soft smile as his eyes fell on his daughter. Juvia chuckled softly, caressing her daughter's back lovingly . " She's you wrapped around her little finger..." her smile tuned into a pout, " I needed three years to achieve it, not fair."

Gray let out laugh, " Who said you've me wrapped around your finger? Don't dream Juvia." That earned him a smack in ribs. He groaned. He forgot  how strong she was.

- " Sleep on the couch, Gray Fullbuster. Or go and hug your daughter, you've forget about me anyway."

- " Seriously, you're jealous of our daughter?" He teased.

- " No. I can't be jealous of her... she's too cute, I can understand you." She frowned.

- " But?" Gray raised an eyebrow as he knew something was her mind. Juvia just sighed and crossing his eyes briefly. "Nothing Gray-sama." With that she kissed his head and Yuki's head before getting up and making her way to their room.

Gray watched her walk away raising an eyebrow as he decided to carry the sleeping Yuki to her room and talk to his wife after.

...

Juvia came out of the bathroom just as he closed their bedroom, leaving a steam behind her. Gray's eyes lingered on her body for a moment as she was only wearing his t-shirt with her wet hair falling on her back freely. He teared his gaze off her with great difficulty as he reminded himself that they should talk.

Seeing Juvia making her way to the dressing table, he trailed his feet to her. Arms crossed, he leaned on the nearest wall as he watched her brush her hair.

- " Juvia, what's in your mind?" He asked. She caught his gaze on the mirror and opened her mouth to answer but he knew her too well by now. "Don't say nothing."

She closed her mouth without a word and he set his eyes on her.

- " So? "

- " You'll think it's silly." She mumbled after a moment, not meeting his stare.

He rolled his eyes in response, " After all this time, I'd like to think that I'm used to you being you and it's not silly. Nothing about you is silly." She looked up at his honest answer and he gave her a smile.

- " Mind to tell me what's happening in that head of yours?"

She turned to face him, leaned against the dresser. " You look very handsome."

Gray raised a teasing eyebrow with a smirk. " Thanks? I know I'm a knockout."

She huffed.

- " Alright. I'm lost here. I won't understand if you don't explain me, Waterdrop."

She sighed. " Juvia's big and her body's changed a lot since the pregnancy. You're still the same and woman doesn't even have idea that you're a father when you walk in streets. And even if they knew they won't mind."

Gray took a moment to process before he broke the silence.

- " Wow. That's a load of crap." She looked up blinking back the moist of her eyes only to catch his firm, intent gaze.

He closed the distance between them in a few steps and wrapping an arm around her, he looked down at her.

- " From when are you thinking like this? "

She shrugged casting her eyes down.

- " Do you regret being pregnant?" He asked though he knew her answer.

- " No! Why would Gray-sama think that!? Juvia loves her baby and won't ever regret her baby or him!!" She exclaimed tears glistening in her eyes.

Gray smiled, " I know Juvs."

- " Who said you were big and not beautiful? " He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. " If you'd ask me, you're even more beautiful, and sexier now. And I'm sure every male thinks that when you walk on the streets of Magnolia even if I don't like the idea." He murmured.

- " Gray-sama thinks so?" She crossed his eyes, hopeful.

He nodded kissing down her mouth, "Hmm...you were glowing since you were pregnant, and now even after giving birth, you still look stunning."

He looked up giving her the loving smile that he only reserved for her. "You're perfect, Juvia Fullbuster."

She smiled widely at her surname, she loved it when he called her with his name. She felt like she was his—she was his but she loves to be called his and he knew it.

She wrapped her arms around his neck looking up at him lovingly as he kissed her cheek.

- " As for other woman looking at me, you don't have to worry, I'm all yours. I didn't even know that they looked at me until you pointed it out." He mumbled the last part to himself.

She giggled when he lifted her in his strong arms. "You just have to share me with Yuki just like I've to share you with our little princess." He lifted an eyebrow at her smirking, " Is that okay with you? "

She pretended to think, " Juvia doesn't see any objections of sharing you with our baby, Gray-sama."

Gray chuckled, sitting on the bed with her on his lap.

- " But, you stated something about being mine, does it count even when Juvia's old, ugly with stretch marks and grey hair ?"

- " Especially at that time Waterdrop." He kissed her nose as she ran her fingers in his hair.

- " I love you, Gray-sama." He looked up as he heard his favorite words from her. No matter how many times she tells it, his heart will always hammer in his chest.

- " I love you too, Juvia." He was proud that he could finally say those words after years of struggling. The first time he said them to her was after a battle, when she woke up after falling unconscious in his arms during the battle. He could still remember him clutching her tightly to him as he trembled of fear. His fears and nightmares were coming back at him as he was reminded of the memory of her dying form in the battlefield. If there's one thing that he feared the most in his life was to lose his amazing family.

- " Gray-sama?" Juvia held his cheek as he'd tightened his arms around her unconsciously.

He blinked back and shook his head at her reassuringly, he knew she was here with him and now, he'd his daughter and he'd do anything to protect his family. He smiled at his beautiful wife.

- " Can Juvia ask you something and you need to answer honestly?" She asked then.

Gray frowned cutely, " Am I in trouble?" Juvia chuckled softly, caressing his cheekbones.

When he nodded, she trailed,

- " Why haven't you touched Juvia ever since Yuki was born if you think she's beautiful?" Her voice was too low and she almost breathed the last part as her eyes fell on the bed.

Gray blinked, slightly taken aback from the question but decided to give her a honest answer as he promised.

Lifting her face up, he made her look at him as he stared into her blue orbs. " When you were in labor, you were hurting and I had to look at you in pain without doing anything..." she shook her head slightly but he trailed sighing, "And I couldn't help but be guilty that I've put you into this. So, I decided to give you some time for yourself."

She cupped his face smiling at him lovingly. " Gray-sama, having the chance to bear your baby is one of the best things that happened to Juvia, aside from marrying you. Juvia would go through more pain again if she's to be the mother of your child."

Gray looked at his woman and couldn't help but feel lucky to have her, to be able to call her his. Because this amazing woman entered his life and poured her unconditional love on him and managed to make his boring life, worth to live. She gave him her heart and soul and showed him that he can hope a future too. He wanted to punch his younger self for making her wait so long screw his reasons and fears. He loved her and he wanted to grew old with her, spend every second of his life with her.

Without a word he turned, making her fall under him as he hovered over her. " I held myself from jumping you for almost an year. I'm warning you. I'm not holding back this night."

Juvia's eyes darkened in desire as she looked into his eyes, the same way she looked at him in their intense moments. " Don't hold back." Her lips then trailed from his forehead to his eyes. He let her do as her lips traced their way to his cheek and ear which she kissed. " I want you, Gray-sama."

Gray turned his head swiftly and kissed her lips hard, making her gasp at the intensity of his kiss. Damn right, he loved her and he was going to show her just how much he loved her.

...

Waking up from his slumber, Gray watched his beautiful wife curled up against him, face buried in his chest, her breath on his naked chest. He sighed with a smile as his hands found her hair and back caressing it. He kissed her head and pulled her closer to him, chuckling softly when she clung to him like a koala. 

- " You were not joking when you said you won't hold back." Came her muffled voice, he laughed more and couldn't help but to be proud. "Juvia's sore." 

He frowned, "Are you hurt?"

She lifted her head up smiling at him brightly. " Not much, plus it's a good kind of hurt." He smirked at her and he kissed her lips softly when she blushed under his gaze.

- " I missed you." He confessed then.

- " Juvia missed you more."

- " Wanna show me how much you missed me?" He leaned in, hands making her back shiver.

But they were interrupted by a crying sound. Juvia laughed.

- " Looks like your daughter missed her mom more." With a last kiss on his lips, putting on the first thing she found while Gray watched her do with a grin, she headed out of their room.

Few minutes later, she was back with his princess in her arms, clad only in his t-shirt from last night. Their little girl stretched out her arms for him and squealed in delight as soon as she saw him and Gray grinned, crawling to the other side of the bed as his wife sat on the bed.

With a chuckle he watched his snowflake wiggle out of her mother's arms to him and he eagerly held her kissing her chubby cheeks. Juvia tickled her baby as she laughed with her and Gray found himself laughing along with them as he leaned against the headboard. Juvia leaned in his arms soon as their little girl continued to play between them.

His gaze moved from their daughter to his wife, the woman who gave him this amazing life. He looked at her fondly as his entire being screamed his unconditional love for her. She must've felt his eyes on her as she caught his eyes, he just continued to stare at her conveying feelings that can't be described with words and gave her his best happy smile to her. Juvia smiled back her loving smile that she reserved only for him as she intertwined their hands together. He squeezed back and they looked down at their hands as their daughter caught their intertwined hands in her little ones smiling a toothy grin at them.

*

Find more of my fanfics on Wattpad : Arya_Reyes.

https://www.wattpad.com/user/Arya_Reyes

[fuwahiko]

Ok more fluff coming your way because i throw it all on Hajime mans needs a break. Imagine a Non-Despair au where Izuru is a real person and Hajime's twin, they go to Hope's Peak. Izuru in the Main Course and Hajime in the Reserve Course.

Class 77 plan a get-together outside of school because they wanted to...and Chisa said to get together outside of school. Izuru is...not feeling social so he decides to bring Hajime along. He didn't tell anyone he was bringing his brother, but they'll learn when he shows up.

So fast forward to The Hang Out, and all of class 77 are waiting for Izuru. They're not surprised because Izuru is Izuru and he does not like socializing. They're all chatting and laughing at TeruTeru getting his ass chewed out by Mahiru when Izuru comes in and...he's hanging off of someone with short choppy hair and green eyes? Whomst? Izuru doesn't have friends outside of them who beith this man?

"Izuru what the hell, you forgot to tell them about me?!" "...oh, it seems so. Sorry Haji."

So Izuru introduces his brother because he FORGOT to tell his class about Hajime. Everyone's nice to him, even Nagito because he's got a hope boner for Izuru Kamukura aka Ultimate Hope man.

Fuyuhiko goes up and says "hi" because if Peko can try to socialize, so can he. Hajime smiles and says hi back, and that's that. Fuyuhiko goes back to his antisocial wall, and Hajine goes back to being Izuru's emotional support pillar. Literally.

But they're both flushed. Fuyuhiko's eyebrows are furrowed and Hajime's biting his lips. They steal glances at each other when the other isn't looking. Fuyuhiko and Hajime are both thinking, "Oh no cute boy."

And LET THE MUTUAL PINING, TSUNDERE ACTIONS, AND CLASS 77 SHENANIGANS COMMENCE. With wingwoman Peko, insgigator Natsumi on both sides, and Izuru being the overprotective brother that he is.

yessss pining boys!! without having like... the reasons they had in the game to talk to each other, how does one approach a cute boy (tm)? when both you and the cute boy (tm) are so awkward and have such difficulty getting chatting, what do you do?

imagining Peko as a wingwoman is really cute and kinda amusing too because she’s y’know, sort of awkward too and sometimes struggles to keep conversations going and stuff so I imagine there’d probably be some moments where Peko is trying her best to help Fuyuhiko by starting a conversation with Hajime so she can bring Fuyuhiko into it as well but maybe it’s a sort of unusual topic or she doesn’t really give Hajime much to work with so it kinda flops at first and Fuyuhiko’s concerned that it’s not gonna go anywhere, but then Peko ends up saying something that Hajime finds funny (even though there’s a 95% chance that Peko wasn’t intending to be funny) and that allows for the conversation to open up more and become a lot easier.

Hajime and Fuyuhiko end up keeping the conversation going for a few minutes, but they’re both still pretty flustered and they keep getting overwhelmed and distracted (cute boy!! omg!!) so they end up struggling and the conversation dies out again. just then Izuru spots them and comes over again to butt in and latch onto Hajime and Fuyuhiko uses it as an opportunity to head off and escape the awkwardness. Hajime gets irritated with Izuru for scaring Fuyuhiko off but is also honestly a little relieved because he wouldn’t have wanted to make things even more awkward by just letting the silence between them carry on for who knows how long.

the get together ends without them getting the chance to talk any more than that, but even so they both find that they just can’t stop thinking about each other in the days that follow. it’s been several days already but Fuyuhiko still gets distracted in class thinking about how cute Hajime’s big bright smile was and the sound of his laugh, how soft his hair looked, how big his arms were compared to his own. Hajime finds himself sitting on his bed and hugging his pillow to his chest as he thinks about Fuyuhiko’s pretty eyes, his cute freckles, and how surprisingly friendly and sweet he’d been in contrast to his intimidating aura (which Hajime also found very attractive, of course). there’s a lot of covering cheeks with hands, lowering heads to hide soft expressions and a hell of a lot of times where somebody is trying to get Hajime’s or Fuyuhiko’s attention but they might as well be talking to a brick wall because they’re both so distracted by their thoughts that they’re completely lost to the world.

Natsumi notices all of this from both of them and finds it hilarious (and pretty adorable, she has to admit) and even though she does think Hajime is sort of lame she knows her brother is genuinely really into him and... well, he’s not that bad, right? yeah, okay, he’s actually pretty alright... so why not give them both a little shove in the right direction?

problem is, they’re both completely useless.

she makes several attempts at trying to encourage them to do something about all these god damn butterflies and fluffy pink hearts that are practically radiating from them both, but nothing works. she gives up. a few more days pass and... nothing changes. they’re both so god damn annoying. Hajime lets out his 200th dreamy sigh in class (which is a lot less discreet than Hajime thinks it is) and Natsumi almost loses it. she has to do something about this.

the next day she asks Hajime to meet her in a quiet spot just outside of school when classes are over, she tells him she wants to talk about something. Hajime doesn’t really get what the deal is but he figures he’ll just go along with it rather than questioning her and making a fuss.

after school he goes to wait in the spot (Natsumi says she needs to do something else quickly first and tells Hajime to go ahead) but when he gets there... he sees Fuyuhiko is there waiting for him?!

Hajime stops dead in his tracks, freezing up and struggling to even breathe properly, and when Fuyuhiko looks up and realises Hajime is there he tenses up and balls his hands into fists at his sides. they stare at each other for a moment, their cheeks burning up as they process the situation, and then as soon as Fuyuhiko is able to kick his brain into gear again he realises exactly what is going on. he scrunches his face up, still bright red, though Hajime doesn’t notice yet. “god damn it, Natsumi!” his voice is loud, making Hajime jump a little, but it’s also sort of shaky.

“oh uh- I was supposed to meet her here- I-”

Fuyuhiko sighs. “yeah, me too. she did this on purpose. she was trying to get both of us here because she knows that-” he cut himself off, suddenly realising what he was about to say. out loud. to Hajime.

“huh? knows that what?” Hajime couldn’t figure out what Natsumi could possibly want from this that Fuyuhiko would know of. the only reason he could imagine was because she knew about his crush on Fuyuhiko and probably wanted to play some kind of prank, but that couldn’t be it because how would Fuyuhiko know why she’d called him there?

it was then that Hajime noticed that Fuyuhiko was turning away and avoiding eye contact. wait... is he blushing? what would cause him to blush in a situation like this? hang on a second...

slowly Hajime started to piece the situation together... but he must be imagining things, right? there has to be some other explanation. but he couldn’t help but cling onto that little thought, that maybe Fuyuhiko was also interested, even if it was silly to ever think that that could be the case. he wanted to test his theory out without giving himself away, and in the moment the best he could manage was some awkward joke. of course.

“hey... isn’t this kinda like when two characters in a romance anime meet up outside of school to confess or something?”

Fuyuhiko has a small coughing fit. he recovers after a moment and adjusts his tie, finally looking back at Hajime again. “huh?!”

Hajime panics and nervously searches for somewhere else to look so he doesn’t have to meet Fuyuhiko’s intense eyes. “n-nothing! I was just joking around! I uh- I thought it’d uh-” he feels like his cheeks are about to catch fire. he wants to run away but his legs won’t move an inch.

Fuyuhiko lets out a breathy laugh. “you’re so weird.”

Hajime looks up again and is surprised to see Fuyuhiko’s expression is much softer than expected, and though he keeps glancing up at Hajime he’s also struggling and looking around awkwardly as well. suddenly Hajime catches a look in Fuyuhiko’s eyes and they find themselves staring at each other for a moment. Hajime sees that he really wasn’t imagining it; Fuyuhiko’s face is very red right now. he realises that Fuyuhiko has noticed that his face is also red. he must have done. there’s no way he could possibly miss it. oh god.

there’s a long pause.

Fuyuhiko swallows and takes a moment to clear his throat.

“well anyway, since we’re here, do you want to... hang out sometime?”

Hajime’s eyes widen in surprise. he isn’t even able to process the question before Fuyuhiko continues speaking.

“I just mean because you’re my sister’s classmate n’ all I figure we should try to get along and-”

“y-yeah, sure. uh, I’d like that actually.” Hajime doesn’t realise he’s cut Fuyuhiko off until he’s already spoken.

there’s another pause, and then maybe a couple more minutes of them arranging a time and place to meet up in a few days while trying not to lose it and just turn to a big pile of mush out of embarrassment, and then they awkwardly part ways.

as Hajime turns to leave he thinks he hears something rustling in a bush nearby but figures it must be his imagination so he just ignores it and continues on his way.

Natsumi heads back home, a couple of small leaves stuck in her hair, giggling to herself. today would go down as one of the greatest successes of the ultimate little sister.

[halftheway]

we’re starting over (and i love you, darling) | ao3

pspspspspps eternal duo fans i got a lil something for ya:

rating: teen & up

content notes: alcohol use, graphic violence, character death

additional notes: this is Much softer than the tags make it sound. He/she/they pronouns used for eret. can be read as platonic or romantic (i wrote the damn thing and can’t tell which it is)

summary: it’s funny how you always remember/And we’ve both done it all a hundred times before/It’s funny how I still forgot

“You know what they say about freckles."

"What do they say?"

"That each one is a kiss from a past life. Kinda funny, isn't it?"

They've been dancing around each other for as long as Foolish can recall, and Eret has been collecting freckles from Foolish for a long time.

Eret’s changing into something less formal for their sparring session this afternoon, but it’s hard for Foolish to see them as anything but regal. They’ve been royalty enough times that it’s almost habit for him to address them as your majesty or, less often, your highness. They’ve put on a sleeveless shirt and loose trousers while Foolish was respectfully averting his gaze and definitely not lost in thought. They’ve moved onto wrapping their hands, which signals that they want to work on hand-to-hand combat today. That’s fine by Foolish, his trident could do with some repairs and probably isn’t in fighting shape. Not against Eret, anyway.

“Hand-to-hand?” they ask, somewhat unnecessarily.

“Sure,” Foolish agrees anyway. He waits for them to finish before offering a hand. They take it, and he pulls them up.

They settle into sparring fairly easily. Foolish might be taller and stronger but Eret has always been faster and more agile, so they’re pretty evenly matched. Several times, they lean back and swing a leg at him, trying to throw him off balance, but he skips backward each time and avoids the kick neatly.

Eret’s at a bit of an unfair disadvantage, with their memory and all. Foolish has centuries of fights with them to refer to, and it’s muscle memory at this point. They catch him off guard, though,

They swing and their shirt moves, just a little. Foolish catches sight of a prominent freckle on their shoulder and freezes, and Eret lands a blow that actually knocks him down.

“Oh, shit!” They lean down and hold a hand out for him to take. “You alright, dude?”

It’s hard sometimes, Eret not remembering. “You have a freckle on your shoulder,” he says, and they quirk an eyebrow.

“Yep. Got a lot of em.” He brushes sand off Foolish’s shirt. “You know what they say about freckles.”

“What do they say?”

“That each one is a kiss from a lover in a past life. Kinda funny, isn’t it?”

Funny. He laughs, because he knows Eret expects him to, but there’s truth in the statement.

More often than not, Eret doesn’t remember him, at least not at first. But they’ve been dancing around each other for as long as Foolish can recall, and it’s always the same. Well, not always. Eret changes much more than he does- after all, they’re mortal- but their essence inexorably finds its way back to him. And this means Foolish knows that saying to be more than a superstition or an old wives’ tale, because Eret has been collecting freckles from Foolish for a long time.

The knuckles: Eret was a prince, Foolish her knight. He’d help her off her horse every day, bow low and kiss her hand before letting go. She was an accomplished rider, of course, but they both used her heavy skirts getting in the way of dismounting as an excuse to touch. She’d laugh and thank him for being so devoted, and he’d duck his head, blushing, and mumble something about his duties. It was strange, for a god of death to be playing at knighthood, but he didn’t want to lose her again so soon.

The cheek: A totem of death is never far from the battlefield. He hadn’t found Eret after their latest death. He’d been looking, but hadn’t had any luck. Until, of course, he was in the middle of a war. He’d felled one soldier heading their way and whirled to face another, but she wasn’t coming for him. No, her sword had been plunged into Eret’s chest.

Foolish screamed because Eret couldn’t: it looked like she’d punctured their lungs by the way they were gasping. He summoned lightning to kill the soldier above them, but evidently Eret’s condition had upset him more than he thought, because moments later they were the only living souls left. He dropped his trident and gathered Eret into his lap, knowing what was coming. They reached up to his face and touched his face, smiling.

“Next time,” he promised as their eyes slipped shut. “I’ll find you sooner next time.”

Eret nodded and their hand fell from his face. He caught it, rested it on their chest. Their head lolled on his shoulder, and he kissed their cheek, smearing some of their own blood back on their face.

Next time.

The ribs: Foolish doesn’t really scar. He’s not even sure he can. Eret, however, is a different story. He was stretched out by the fire, waiting on Foolish to bring him tea. (His tea preference is one of the things that changes, and Foolish takes care to learn it every time.)

Eret’s hair looked a little tangled and Foolish wanted nothing more than to sit their head in his lap and brush through their curls until they fell asleep. It was a familiar, soothing ritual that Foolish had been missing for years, but they weren’t at that level of intimacy yet. He reached out anyway. He was always reaching for Eret, he mused, trailing a finger along his back. Eret tensed under Foolish’s touch but didn’t move away, so he continued his careful exploration.

Every time Eret came back to him, Foolish had to relearn the topography of his body all over again. He never got tired of it.

His finger skimmed across a large scar on his ribcage and stopped.

This one looked particularly nasty, but he’d survived… whatever it was. There was a lot Foolish didn’t know about the life Eret was currently leading. But while he might’ve trusted Foolish enough to let his guard down physically, he was still closed off, and Foolish didn’t want to pry. So he settled for leaning over and brushing a kiss over the scar.

The shoulder: They were attending a masquerade ball together. Foolish had shown up in his usual formal attire, a plain three piece suit, but Eret had requested he wear a specific tie: a blue one she’d picked out for him. Why, he hadn’t known, but seeing her now he understands.

She was late, like she usually was when they didn’t arrive together. He'd asked if she wanted to go, and she’d said yes, but when he’d started talking about logistics, she’d silenced him with a finger over his lips and a smile on her own. He sees now why she wanted to come separately: she looks stunning.

Her mask was a soft cream color, wreathed in flowers that perfectly matched both the gold trim of her corseted top and the sleeveless blouse beneath it, paired with a flowing pale blue skirt. She’d traded her usual crown for a simple, elegant circlet, shining white gold amidst the flowers tucked into her hair.

She always did like to make an entrance.

Foolish stared, much like everyone else in the ballroom, as she headed straight for a waiter carrying around champagne. He grinned.

“You look radiant this evening, my lady,” he said as he approached her, bowing.

She smiled at him, returning with a curtsy. “Foolish!”

“May I have this dance?”

She accepted, and he escorted her to the dance floor.

They spent the night dancing together, Foolish keeping an eye on her champagne consumption as the evening wore on. She hadn’t danced with another partner, hadn’t taken those mesmerising eyes off him for a moment. It was rare that he got to see them, and in fact that night they were the only part of her face he could see. They were beautiful, a soft iridescent color with the slightest glow that only someone like Foolish could perceive.

Now, she was resting her head on his shoulder as he held her close. They weren’t dancing so much as swaying gently in place, and as Foolish tucked some of her hair behind her ear, he wished more than anything he could ensure she’d remember this.

Eventually it got too late to stay, and despite Foolish offering her his arm Eret was still wobbly in her heels on the way out. Some things never changed. He had her take off her shoes and scooped her up, easily carrying her.

The ocean was nearby, if the cries of gulls were anything to go by. Foolish decided to take them on a detour, a bit of calm after the haze of lights and music. It was serene there, just as he’d known it would be, a faint breeze bearing the familiar scent of salt.

Eret tugged at his jacket and he looked down at her. “What’s up?”

She pointed at the dunes and mumbled something about sunrise , and, well. He’d never been able to tell her no.

He found them a dune with a good view of the horizon, carefully depositing her on the sand before settling down beside her. He was going to miss this. When Eret was gone, and again when she didn’t know him anymore.

The life of a god could be very lonely.

They sat in companionable silence for awhile, quiet in the moonlight, and then she spoke. “I know I’m going to forget this.”

Foolish said nothing, unsure whether she was referring to the alcohol or-

“I know you,” she continued. “I always do.”

Ah.

“Can’t get rid of me,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

She shook her head and one of the little blue flowers fell from where it had been woven into her curls. Foolish caught it as she said, “I don’t want to let you go.”

He recognized the blossom, finally.

A forget-me-not.

The sky began to turn orange and Foolish sighed, resting his head on her shoulder. “You’re going to have to, someday.”

She took her crown and mask off and set them down. “Why do you get to remember? Why don’t I get to keep all of our history?”

“I don’t die,” he reminded her. “Maybe someday you’ll find a way to cheat death.”

They both know it’s a joke, but it sparks something inside him. Cheat death. Huh. Maybe there’s something to that. He’s been getting tired of destruction. No matter how much he likes having this much power, he’s tired of people- of Eret- dying.

She rested her head atop his as the sun climbed higher in the sky. “Foolish?”

“Eret?”

“I love you.” He turned his head and kissed her shoulder, the only place he could reach without disturbing her.

“I love you too.”

I

n the present, Eret is asking if Foolish is alright again.

He shakes himself. “Yeah, just… thinkin’, I guess.”

They’re looking at him strangely and he knows. He knows this will pass. He can’t help the ache in his chest this time. He wants to keep them.

Something isn’t right here. His powers aren’t working. He could’ve destroyed that egg and ended it all. He should have been able to save everyone.

He can’t.

So he does the next best thing. He offers himself instead.

His mind is clear except for one thing: protecting Eret. He walks over to Eret, who reaches for him with shaking hands. They cup his face, pull him in close, and kiss his forehead.

It’s over in a matter of moments. Eret is pulled away and Puffy is shouting, several people are shouting, and then-

Silence.

As the sword descends, Foolish is at peace. He’s finally fulfilled his purpose; both as a totem of undying and as Eret’s protector.

It takes a few days for him to notice. He hasn’t taken his armor off since the banquet, but he needs to repair his helmet after one too many falls from his latest build, and then he sees it.

A faint freckle on his forehead, right where Eret had kissed him.

[voiceless-terror]

Can you do 11 truth or dare confessions for jonmartin please?

Hey there, anon! Here you go. Another one of my prompts that quickly got away from me. This isn’t so much confessions as it is hijinks, and I saw ‘drunk confessions’ right below it and it turned into this.  Hope you enjoy!

Jon chooses truth. Martin chooses dare. The team goes out after work and discoveries are made.

“I love everyone in this bar!” Tim shouted to a loud cheer. It was a Wednesday night.

Wednesday.

Sasha had no idea how Tim had managed to get all of them, including one Jonathan Sims, out on the town. Something about a spider and a book and several cups of tea. Sasha hadn’t been listening.

And here they were, at Tim’s favorite Friday night haunt, downing shots and eating greasy food even though they had to report back to the institute at nine in the morning tomorrow. For Jon it was most likely closer to seven.

Jon, however, seemed completely unaware of this.

They were sitting at the bar for easy drink access. Ergo, Jon had gotten his drink refilled several times without any of them noticing. And this wasn’t including the rounds the rest of them had already bought. He must have some stress to work through, Sasha mused. He was currently hanging half-off the bar stool, staring dreamily at the lights on the dance floor as if entranced. It’d be cute if he wasn’t almost cross-eyed.

Martin definitely found it cute. He wasn’t as drunk as his boss, no, but he was well on his way. He’d done nothing but stare at him all night, nodding eagerly at his many info-dumps and pushing several plates of fried food at him that Jon refused to eat. Sasha and Tim both knew he had it bad, but this was too much to watch. 

Sasha would have to intervene and put the plan in motion. It was the perfect time- Martin wasn’t nervous or stuttering, and Jon was mellowed out on liquor, swaying gently to the music pounding through the speakers. It was now or never. She slammed her hand down on the counter, startling her companions.

“I propose a little game of truth or dare!” She gave Tim a sly smirk and his look of surprise soon changed to a mischievous smirk.

“Oh ho ho, Sasha. What a great idea.”

“We’re at a bar,” Martin argued, taking a slurp of his drink. “How is that even going to work?”

“Oh I’ll make it work, Martin,” Tim replied rather threateningly. “We’re doing this to help you. Boss, you in?”

Jon’s gaze slid over to them, clearly disinterested in their current conversation. “Hnn?” he questioned intelligently.

“Shots, boss! You in?” Tim gestured and the shots materialized as if by magic. Jon threw one back without so much as a flinch. It was a wonder to behold. Martin looked as if he were drooling. He probably was.

“Tim!” Sasha shouted, back to the matter at hand. “Truth or dare?” 

“Let’s start off easy,” he rubbed his hands together in glee. “Truth.”

“Boo,” she jeered, teasing. “Riddle me this: who is your most shameful lay from our esteemed institute?” Martin began sputtering, and Jon looked to be tuning them out.

Tim tilted his head in consideration, suddenly very serious. “Well, it depends on your criteria. Are we talking in terms of looks? Personality? General grossness?”

“Hm, let me rephrase,” Sasha didn’t want to be too mean, though she was excited to get any gossip she could. “Who is the unlikeliest one? Someone we wouldn’t guess at all.”

“Oh,” Tim leered, clearly ready to divulge something juicy. “You want me to go through the ol’ rolodex, find the needle in the sex stack.”

“Disgusting,” Jon slurred, shoving a fry in his mouth. Martin nodded in agreement, though he was hanging on every word.

“Y’know Hannah?”

Sasha searched her memory. “From Artefact Storage?”

Martin shook his head. “No, from the library.”

“You’re both wrong,” Tim raised his eyebrows suggestively. “From research.”

Martin and Sasha froze. Even Jon joined in, swiveling his head to face Tim with a look of shock. “Egg-salad Hannah?”

“The one and only,” Tim answered as the rest of the table broke out into exaggerated gagging and looks of disgust.

“Seriously, Tim? Did she brush her teeth, at least?” Martin took another swig of his drink, still in disbelief.

“Did she offer you half her sandwich when you were done?” Sasha and Martin broke out into giggles. Tim was silent.

“Oh you didn’t-”

“Fuck you, it was actually good-”

“This is why you shouldn’t have sex,” Jon nodded sagely. “It always ends in egg salad.”

“Precisely!” Martin slammed his hand down on the counter in agreement. “Wait, what?”

“Moving on!” Tim made a sweeping gesture with his hand, ending it with a point at Jon. “Boss-man! Truth or dare?”

Jon squinted his eyes. Sasha did not know if this was in concentration or confusion.

“Boss?”

“I don’t want to participate,” He took a demure sip of his whiskey and coke. “Truth.”

“Alright, alright! What is…” Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully, considering his options. “Hmm. What is something we’d be shocked to know about you? Like proper shocked, mate. What’s your weirdest secret?” He leaned in close, a patented Tim Stoker Seduction Move, complete with half-lidded eyes and a smirk. Martin shoved him off the bar in a surprising move of aggression and Sasha barked out a laugh.

“You don’t have to answer that, Jon-” Martin began to assure him.

“Yes he does!” Tim argued, leaning back in his seat and rubbing at the elbow Martin had shoved. “That’s the point of the game.”

“We shouldn’t force him to answer-”

Sasha tried to interrupt. “No one’s forcing-”

“Not yet-”

“Here,” Jon shoved his phone into Tim’s hands; it was loaded to a YouTube video of a grainy performance of some band.

“What is this?” Sasha leaned in to look along with Martin, squinting at the screen. “Is this some concert you went to?”

“You could say that,” Jon replied, oddly coy.

“Is this like steampunk?” Martin questioned, leaning in even further. “They’re all dressed-”

“Wack as hell,” Tim finished, though he was smiling. “I dunno, I kinda like them. Lead singer’s hot.”  Jon let out a drunken giggle, and this is when the video zoomed in, losing focus for just a moment before-

“Jon is that you?” 

“Don’t be daft, Martin, that’s- holy fuck that's Jonathan Sims.”

“It’s me!” Jon drunkenly whispered, almost sliding off of his seat. Sasha stared at the figure on the screen. It was Jon. Hair down, younger, and covered in makeup, but she’d recognize that voice anywhere. She looked back to her boss, glasses askew and sweater vest wrinkled. What the fuck happened to you?

He was surely going to regret this night come tomorrow.

Tim couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, currently holding it a few centimeters from his face. Martin had an intense look at odds with his loose inebriation. He turned to her, strangely serious.

“Dare.” he said, no room in his voice for argument.

“It’s- it’s not your turn, Martin,” she stuttered. “It would be Jon’s, technically-”

“I. Pick. Dare.”

Well, alright. Now or never. Jon’s revelation had forced her hand.

“I dare you…” Sasha looked over to find both Martin and Jon staring at each other, their gazes oddly charged. Martin looked like a man on a mission, while Jon seemed to be openly challenging him, eyebrows raised. Am I missing something?

“...to kiss the most attractive person in this bar!” The words had not been spoken for more than two seconds before Martin had taken Jon in his arms in a sweeping kiss, like something out of a fairytale. If fairytales involved Archivists and their assistants and took place in dingy bars on Wednesday nights. Jon’s arms immediately wrapped around Martin’s neck, dragging him deeper into the kiss.

“Finally!” Tim whooped. He’d stopped watching the video in order to document the event, phone set to record. Jon’s leg had somehow wound itself around Martin’s waist and Sasha was beginning to feel like an intruder in this very public bar. She turned to Tim.

“Wait, finally?” Sasha asked, confused. She hadn’t planned for it to go this far, or for Jon to even reciprocate. She thought she’d help Martin get a kiss on the cheek or something equally as innocent, not whatever...this was. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Wow Sash, I thought you were the observant one,” he stopped recording, slipping his phone back into his pocket. God, when are they going to come up for air? “They’ve been playing footsie all night. It was disgustingly cute.”

“I-Jon likes him back?” she stared at the two, who had stopped kissing but were still entangled, Jon whispering something in Martin’s ear that he giggled at. “When the fuck did this happen?”

“This afternoon, I think,” Tim took a sip of his drink and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Well, I don’t know how long Jon’s had feelings. But God, you should’ve seen them today. Jon screaming about this spider and Martin just fucking smashes it with a book, decimated it-”

“But Martin loves spiders!”

“I know! But not as much as he loves Jon, apparently. Took one look at his scared little face and just destroyed the thing. I thought Jon was going to propose right then and there. Completely love-struck.”

Sasha pouted. “You know how much I hate being left out! You should’ve told me, we could’ve changed up the plan-”

Tim shook his head. “And miss out on Jon’s secret past? Perish the thought!”

“Huh,” Sasha tilted her head. “I almost forgot about that. What with all the kissing and such.” Martin and Jon were still lost in their own little world. Hopefully they’d remember it come morning, but if not-well, there’s always Tim’s video. She leaned into his side, yawning.

Tim gave her a sly smile. “Say, how’s about me and you-”

Sasha laughed, shoving his arm away. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about egg-salad Hannah-”

“That was one fucking time!”

[arcanescholar]

Hard To Find The Right Words

Omori Post True Good Ending Spoilers. 

Aubrey having a tough time, etc etc. Enjoy maybe??? Might get more chapters later if I feel like it???????????? FUCK????????????

Ch 2 

On the long, long list of “shit Aubrey’s had to put up with” for the past few days…

This special, insidious sort of dizziness has gotta be a new one. Seriously, give a girl a break right? Who the fuck is able to handle this many highs and lows at once? It’s enough to make her head spin, and the hospital taking her bat away wasn’t helping matters.

The words that tumbled from Sunny’s placid, stony expression, his singular eye barely betraying the shaky, unsteady difficulty in handling recounting the story, made her stomach turn.

Shit, what a time to be thinking about what she had for lunch. If it comes back up right now she might straight up die of embarrassment y’know?

She couldn’t even turn her attention to Kel or Hero but, with the way the younger had to take a step back and struggle to find any words, and how the elder seemed to freeze like a statue, she had a feeling they were in just as bad of a spot.

“… and, that’s what happened.”

Sunny finally finishes recounting his story, and before he can say another word, Hero is already lunging, Ken barely able to snag his less-in-shape brother before he gets the chance to do whatever he was about to.

Aubrey, though…?

Years of anger, years of hatred and fury and bottled up impatience, a near lifetime of bitterness bubbles in her gut and sends her vision swimming.

Huh.

She just remembered, it was pizza.

Weird, why is Sunny getting so much taller? Kel? Hero? How come her knees started hurting suddenly-

Oh.

Oh, her legs gave out. That makes sense. God, her hair’s getting in her eyes, was it already starting to lose its color? Why is it so hard to focus on anything right now? She should be pissed! She should be picking up hospital equipment and chucking it out a window right now! So why can’t she move?! Why?!

For once, Aubrey can’t summon up her anger. For the first time in who only knows how long, she feels like the scared little girl that had to hide away when holes got punched into walls, that covered her head in her room and squeezed herself into a corner with her rabbit when the arguing got too loud. Her breath catches in her throat and refuses to let up. Is she going to die?

She can’t handle this again. Not now. She’s not strong enough, she’s not tough enough to deal with this-

….

Pap

… A hand rests against her head. That brief touch is enough to peel back the veil and drag focus back kicking and screaming into reality. She almost reflexively goes to turn and smack the hand out of the way, only to realize part way through her turn that it was just Basil’s arm, flopping out from the mattress and accidentally brushing against her head for a moment. The boy was still asleep, still a mess of injuries that made her nearly throw up seeing him in that state.

She might have bullied him, fantasized about beating him to an inch of his life, thought about crushing that bat of hers against his skull more times than she could count. She might have turned that weapon on Kel and Sunny both at least once before, but…

Seeing him like this, seeing Sunny with that eye patch, having lost sight in one of his eyes for what might be the rest of his life?

…

She takes Basil’s hand in hers and carefully stands up. Hero and Kel had been shouting for at least a minute now, she’s not sure how long it’s been since they started processing what happened in their own way. A shove is all Hero needs to finally get out of Kel’s grip, giving him time to damn near sprint out of the room, tackling the door hard enough to almost knock it off of its hinges before dashing out of the room.

Almost without thinking, Kel dips out, rushing after his brother with words that only come across like muffled noises in Aubrey’s ears.

… … …

There was a time when she confided in Mari, a time when she spoke to her about what was happening back at home, she remembered the pain in the older girl’s face, and the words she told her as she let Aubrey rest her head in her lap one quiet afternoon, just between the two of them.

“It’s not my place to say, but… If I could, I’d adopt you right now and give you the biggest welcome to the family hug I could…! Family should never hurt family. No one should ever raise a hand to a loved one and mean it, and the fact that they’re scaring you like that just isn’t right…” The older sister murmured at the time. Aubrey remembers now, Mari brushed her fingers through her hair in a really specific and special way that she almost forgot about.

It was like tracing little circles into her skin with her fingers, like trying to massage the fear from her brain, reaching in deep and grasping the wellspring of her despair and coaxing it out to let her think clearly again…

“When you get older… When things seem tough and scary and you don’t know what to do, that you feel like you’ve got nowhere else you can turn to. You might want to get mad, you might get really furious at having to deal with so much as a kid, but… Promise me, you won’t turn that anger on your friends, okay? Take a breath-”

… Haaaaahhh…

“-center yourself-”

Aubrey gives Basil’s hand a light squeeze. She can hear the hum of medical equipment and the sound of Hero and Kel’s footsteps retreating again.

“-and remember all the precious people you have in your life.”

She wasn’t the sort to pay the most attention to school, but, in this moment, a line she read in a book she had to read a few weeks back crosses her mind again.

“They asked, ‘do you love her to death’? And I said ‘speak of her over my grave, and watch how she brings me back to life’.” (1)

Funny how things dredge up in your memory at the weirdest possible moments, she thinks. For the first time, she’s starting to understand at least some of what those words really mean. 

…

After a moment, she carefully tucks Basil’s hand back into the bed, before letting loose a light huff through her nose. He’s still sleeping, if a bit more fitfully from all the noise.

“… Kh. Don’t gotta remind me like that y’know? Puts a bad taste in my mouth…” She nearly spits, trying to mask herself with bitterness.

It wouldn’t be long before hospital security came to drag Sunny back to his bed and cut this conversation short, she had to act fast.

She steps forward, and without hesitation, reaches up… and presses her hand on Sunny’s head, rubbing her fingers through his hair, tracing circles and massaging with a silent, stony expression that matches his own. She was still sick to her stomach, her balance was still terrifically uneasy, but…

“… I’ll come talk to you again later, okay?”

She pulls her hand back, and gives him a light punch to his shoulder before stepping out of the room.

“For what it’s worth…” She says, pausing in the door frame as she hears the sounds of shoes squeaking against tile flooring as the hospital staff finally approaches to do their damn jobs.

“I kinda get it. I understand it. I’ve been there. I’m not good at talking about this kind of thing, but, if you need to talk, I can give listening a try... this time.”

Sunny was going to leave after he recovered enough for the hospital to let him loose with his frankly fucking negligent mom. There was nothing she could do that would change that, but…

At least for now, at least while he was still recovering in the hospital, she could finally, actually speak to him.

“… Thanks for opening up Sunny. Give Hero a bit. That guy’s so strung up trying to be the best of us that I guess even he’s gotta snap at some point right?”

Says the girl trying to play mom-friend to the most broken-ass friend group in the tristate area. Christ, trying to be a decent person sucks. How the fuck did Hero pull it off for so damn long?

“Aubrey…”

“Yeah Sunny?”

“… thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Kh, fuck that, I almost drowned both you and Basil. If I started whining about accidents that happened in fits of rage I’d be the worst hypocrite in history, y’know?”

“…”

“Talk to Basil and let him know what happened if he wakes up before the staff drag you back to your room or something. I’ll let ‘em know you need a sec.”

With that, she carefully shuts the door.

What she says to the staff, what kind of look she gives them is growled with enough force and tinged with enough protective violence that it gives them just enough pause for the young boys to exchange an all too important smile of mutual understanding. 

Even if Aubrey never saw it, that little moment of clarity between them saved both of their lives in a way she’d refuse to take credit for helping make happen, knowing her.

A busted, crappy, cracked-screen phone buzzes to life as she walks past the staff. God, she fucking hates it here. The way her shoes hit the tiles, the way the equipment sounds, the fact that every time she’s come here, she’s ended up crying for some reason or another-

Shit, here come the water works now. Damn it Aubrey, at least make it out the door first-

A trip and a tumble nearly sends her falling straight to the floor but, she snaps out her hand just in time to snatch onto a handrail on the side of one of the hallways, her head still spinning as she sags against the floor, her phone toppling out of her jacket’s pocket and landing on its back with a loud, spinning clatter, settling in upside down to her perspective. Tear drops spatter onto the screen, distorting the light and scattering rainbow patterns across its surface. Gah. Add that to the damage. This just isn’t her day. 

Behind a call notification, her background shows the cork board in her room with the pictures she yanked out of Basil’s album after saving them from their near ruined state, mixed in with pictures of her and her other friends she made in the time that passed since. A little bubble on the screen bounces about, showing a picture of Kim flashing a peace sign with a bright eyed wink that reflects in Aubrey’s tired eyes, refracting as it passes underneath her teardrops.  “… Hhfffhh…”

She eventually picks her phone up off the ground and answers it. A hospital staffer looks about ready to tell her off for using her phone in the hallway but, lets be honest.

The kind of glare Aubrey gives off as she very deliberately swipes her finger across the screen to accept the call is the sort that would give most adults pause.

“… Hey.”

“Aubrey!!!! You finally picked up!!!”

“…”

“I was so worried when I heard about what happened! Kh, stupid hospital not letting us in…!”

“…”

“… Aubrey? Are you there? I can kinda hear you breathing so you probably didn’t butt-accept the call or something!”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m here.”

“Jeez, how come you weren’t saying anything? Did those ner-”

An audible pause. Kim clears her throat after a second.

“Sorry, uh, did those guys get out of the woods okay…? I kinda only caught the cliffnotes of you going to the hospital from that text you sent me so…”

“They’re fine.”

Aubrey steps outside the hospital’s visiting center doors and finally breathes fresh air for the first time in what felt like days.

“Or… They’re as fine as they can be. Sort of. Kinda.” She continues, stepping over to one of the benches outside and taking a seat, drinking in the sounds of chirping birds, gentle breezes, swaying trees, and the sensation of warm sunlight… It was a beautiful day, and she didn’t feel nearly good enough to appreciate any of it.

“That’s good at least yeah? Uh… Hrmggh. I’m bad at this kinda thing but… Uh. If there’s anything you need to talk about, you can hit me and the others up at any time yeah?”

Kim’s voice was surprisingly tender, tender enough that it manages to draw a sniff out from Aubrey, forcing her to bring a hand up to her eyes and rub it across them to make sure she didn’t show any tears yet god damn it-

Ugh. Where’s Kel’s Taurine soaked brain anyway. He’s better about handling this kinda energy! Does- shit, does he even like energy drinks?

“Aubreeeeey, if you keep going silent I’m gonna think someone kidnapped you y’know. Gotta pull the whole gang together, beat up on the nearest creepos till we find you! The Maverick’s got a Style Meter App on his phone that does those shouts from that one game so we’ll even get t’ have our own hype-men-”

The thought of Michael in a parking lot with a buffer sword in one hand and a phone in the other trying to do combos for a video to put on his Way Too Many Social Media accounts hits Aubrey with a second hand cringe that nearly brings her to her knees.

“UGGGHHHH!” Aubrey finally cracks, a doofy grin hitting her lips despite her audible mental suffering, slumping back in the chair and nearly sliding out of it entirely, a few tears finally trickling down her eyes as her body releases its tension at last.

“I can’t believe that try hard seriously sprung for something like that. If he tries that shit in public in front of me I’m making’ his screen look like mine.” Aubrey finally grumbles, adjusting her bow. “… Right, I left my bat at home. Ugh.”

“There we go! Now you’re talking’ again. Jeez, way to make a girl worry… Charlene was getting ready to find some flowers to give to you too, the sweetheart.”

“She’s more of an angel than Angel is…”

“Right?! Maybe we should make Angel give up on his nickname-”

“Don’t bother, Charlene’d never let him do it.”

“You’re so right it’s actually kinda annoying.”

“She’s the best of us, y’know.”

“…”

“…”

“So, can you like, talk about what happened at all now or…?”

“… Hang out spot, by the lake, be there in 20.”

“Should I bring the rest of the group-”

“Not this time, Kim.”

The call ends without another word, another ping showing on her phone’s screen showing string of texts from Kel.

JrangeOoe: hey!!!!! ;v;

JrangeOoe: sorry i left you alone with sunny and basil there, hero was having a really bad freak out

JrangeOoe: mom and dad and i are workin with him now, gonna try to calm him down will be back at hospital to give basil and sunny another visit later

JrangeOoe: gonna be honest, this is giving me a little time to figure this stuff out too so, thanks hero for the panic i guess??????

JrangeOoe: ugh no that’s not fair

JrangeOoe: anyway, if you need to chill and get some ginos later i found 10 bucks in a visiting center couch and was trying to hide it but

JrangeOoe: today’s a “spread the wealth” sorta day

It took a couple of moments of hesitation, but…

headhooligan: dinner, maybe

headhooligan: fuck this whole dumbs week

headhooligan: i got some spare cash so i’ll chip in too to get hero something if it’ll help

headhooligan: also what the fuck how are you so calm about this are your parents not trying to work you through this too or something?!

JrangeOoe: uh

JrangeOoe: no but i think hero needs it more right now!!!

JrangeOoe: i dunno how i feel, i guess i’m just to worried about everyone else to think about it?

JrangeOoe: *too

JrangeOoe: i’ll catch you later for dinner tho, if i can get hero to calm down enough to feel safe leaving him be with mom and dad

JrangeOoe: get a feelings jam up in here

JrangeOoe: pizza and ice cream or whatever

JrangeOoe: not at your place tho tbh your mom kinda freaks me out like a lot

headhooligan: >:/

JrangeOoe: what? it’s the truth!

With a roll of her eyes, Aubrey stuffs her phone away, wrenching her bike out of its lock from the hospital’s parking lot bike rack and mounting up. She takes one, final, long look at the hospital’s monolithic facade, and thinks about just how high up that building goes before shaking her head, and pedaling off.

The whole ride home, all she can do is play back today’s events again, and again, and again. Hear the same story in Sunny’s stilted monotone, again, and again, and again.

Every instinct, every trained gut reaction, every beaten in urge and desire tells her she should hate him.

He stole her from everyone, he murdered her, broke her skull against the floor like some raging animal then strung her up like a horror show for everyone to see just to avoid consequences with Basil’s help-

… But…

That panic that gripped her chest when Basil fell in the water from her shove just a few days ago, the terror at taking not one life, but two when Sunny jumped in after him, still unable to swim.

“…”

Her pedaling gets harder, more forceful, making the aging, damaged frame of her hand me down, fourth hand bike creak and groan in protest, hair billowing behind her in a tangled mess of poorly kept locks…

What should be anger gives way to an oddly calm understanding, what should be hatred and fury and violence wraps itself so tightly in its own chaotic energy that all she can do is…

…

There’s not a cloud in the sky, but raindrops spatter on concrete and asphalt where she rides, leaving a trail of sorrow four years in the making, finally given “closure”, finally released.

—-

(1) Credit to Mahmoud Darwish for this legendary line.

[everlarkficexchange]

All the World's a Stage

Prompt 31: “We never see you two so much as kiss in public but last night we all heard you having sex.” Submitted by Buttercupbadass

Rated E (Explicit): Mainly for language because Johanna is a potty mouth and so are other certain characters whilst mid coitus okay I don’t make the rules here so there’s more than one f-bomb therefore we rate it E. Also sexual content.

Written by: @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Beta reading by: @stjohn27

************************

Act 1

Johanna Mason loves her neighbors. That is to say, she loves the entertainment they provide her with. It’s a rotating show of fabulous, ridiculous, and delicious drama, and she has a window to each and every one of their lives. Literally.

Victor’s Square is not exactly a square. It’s more of an elongated rectangle shaped building consisting of thirteen apartments, a workout room, a community center, and an office, with a hollowed out central area for a pool. Honestly, the pool is the reason she picked this place instead of The Arbor, which is pretty damn swanky but somehow they forgot to include a pool, of all things, when they added their five thousand luxury amenities. Since Johanna likes sunbathing and not golfing (ugh boring!), Victor’s Square won out.

The three story design of the building, and her luck in snagging the single apartment on top of the office, means that at some point in the day, barring sun glare on glass or inconvenient curtains, she can see directly into every other apartment on the rectangle. Hence the entertainment.

She’s been privy to all sorts of great shit, and none of them seem to know exactly what they’ve given her. The best part is, they’re clueless. As soon as she realized they were basically living their lives on a stage for her, Johanna started parading around her own place with the curtains wide open…while naked. Stark fucking naked. Just to see what would happen.

And nothing changed. No one complained. Which granted, she’s got a banging body. Axe wielding will do that, but she can think of at least half a dozen residents who’d be put off by her exhibitionism. And yet… nothing. No one started suspiciously keeping their curtains or blinds closed when they hadn’t before. Since they’re all too dumb to figure out that their lives are her parade, she just popped the popcorn and settled in for the show.

Tonight, however, Johanna is in no mood for the show. After a late night shift ending a bitch of a week, all she’s in the mood to do is swim a few laps to get the grime off of her skin then lay back in one of the lounge chairs around the pool, listening to the hum of the air conditioners in the sweltering Carolina night, swatting at the mosquitos because she’s too damn lazy to light the citronella torches, and stare up at the rectangle of starry sky she can see.

It’s quiet tonight. She swims her laps, and it works wonders to relax her tired bones and even more tired soul. After, she lays out on one of the squeaky lounge chairs. The hum and the warm air make her drowsy. Inevitably, she begins to doze, with only a vague awareness of the passage of time and the sounds around her.

It’s the loud click and the whoosh that wakes her. Just for a moment. Not long enough to place it at all before she fades back out into half slumber. 

Her psyche is a bitch tonight, dropping long breathy moans into her dreams. The sex so good you can’t quite keep it in kind of moans, even though you’re trying. Completely aware that she messed up a truly great thing just days ago, she tells her subconcious to fuck off and stop reminding her of the one she let get away. Because she was stubborn. Unfortunately, her subconscious is not listening to her. Stupid fucker.

Scrunching up her nose, she refuses to move. She’s sticky with sweat and pretty sure that she’ll lose two layers of skin off her back and thighs when she goes to stand up from the lounge. Besides, there’s a low moaning noise that makes her wonder if maybe she wasn’t actually dreaming those sex sounds. 

The moans in her mind grow louder and slightly more frantic until she can place the heavy feeling in her limbs. She’s awake after too little sleep. 

Damn it. She’s not actually dreaming this shit. Which means one of her neighbors is on the brink of a seriously great orgasm. She’s not sure if she’s annoyed by the fact that she herself hasn’t had decent sex in far too long, or if she’s amused at yet another dramatic chapter in life at Victor’s Square.

The real question is… who’s doing the nasty tonight?

Act 2

A slight shiver and a thrill goes through Johanna as she finally opens her eyes and stares up at the canvas of stars above her.

Another moan ends in a slight squeal and fuck it, Johanna is hooked on the mystery. Shame she doesn’t have any popcorn down here, because given the sheer volume, and the way the sounds are magnified by the shape of the rectangle around the pool, she’s pretty sure whoever it is, they’re fucking with the windows open.

Kinky.

And a lot more interesting than her job. She does a happy little shimmy and settles in to guess who it possibly could be. First things first… she glances around the pool and discovers to her dismay that every apartment has at least one window open, but they’re all dark. Not surprising given that it’s well past midnight. But it’s unfortunately unhelpful. The air conditioner must be out again. That’s probably what that loud noise was earlier.

She closes her eyes again, hoping to pinpoint the direction of the sounds to figure out which of her neighbors is getting lucky tonight. But the shape of the building makes it impossible. Sounds just carry weird in this rectangular bullhorn. They could be coming from anywhere.

“Ung, yeah, right there… oh-oooooh!” The last sound is hitched and breathy. That’s a woman’s voice, Johanna thinks. 

“Yes. Don’t — don’t stop! – I –” The word is pinched off in a desperate sort of ecstasy and Johanna smiles. This could be fun.

It can’t be Caesar and Claudius, the two radio talk show hosts who live in apartment 6. They’re gay. And men. And a couple. But truthfully, she’s not at all disappointed that she can rule them out. She already knows more than she’d like to admit about their sexual habits. Usually she’s not one to kink shame, but electrodes on nipples is a little too close to the realm of torture for her tastes.

“Yes! Please!” the woman begs and Johanna feels her body flush with the erotic sounds, she’s half aroused but fully invested in figuring out who this is. She could of course, get up and walk around to triangulate the sound, but what’s the fun in that?

She quickly rules out Mags in apartment 5. She’s the sweetest old lady, surprisingly spritely. From what Johanna has seen from old pictures of her, Mags was a fucking dish in her youth, but now she’s gotta be pushing ninety. Besides the wrinkles (shudder), Johanna would be worried about heart failure if Mags were the one getting her boots knocked around with this much vigor.

The long moans shift to the choppy, catch breath ones that mean she’s close, whoever the lucky bitch is.

Cinna in apartment 3 is out. He’s ace. Asexual and aromantic. Claims that he’s in a love affair with his work. Well if she could design clothes like the ones Cinna does, Johanna would be willing to give up sex too. She snorts a little and turns her ear, hoping for a better angle on the sound. She’s pretty sure it’s coming from one of the upstairs apartments, but can’t be sure.

Whoever it is, she lets fly a single high pitched note. And then a long stuttering moan that just sounds exactly how it feels to come back down from a really good orgasm. Satisfied, relieved, a little sleepy and a whole lotta euphoric. 

Lucky bitch, Johanna thinks again. Her legs feel heavy and her toes tingle in empathy.

Now if only she could catch something of the partner’s noises…unless the woman is masturbating. Possible, but the directions to not stop earlier make it less likely.

A low pitched murmur and a deep masculine laugh helpfully nix that thought almost as soon as Johanna has it. 

Not flying solo, but also Johanna can now rule out Enobaria and Lyme from apartment 2. She’s never understood them exactly. On the surface, you’d think they’d be perfect for one another. Their personalities mesh in a weird kinda way. Enobaria is louder while Lyme is more dignified, but they’re so often bickering about politics… and the truth is, they have an open relationship.

Or at least Johanna assumes they do based on the number of not-Lyme women Enobaria has entertained shoved up against the glass door leading to their balcony…but if not, Johanna is perfectly willing to offer up herself as a rebound to Lyme when the inevitable shit hits the fan. That woman is built like a house and fucking sexy in a domineering sort of way. Like Brienne of Tarth hotness.

She can order me to submit anytime she wants, Johanna thinks with a smirk.

As if confirming her thoughts, a long deep moan drifts down to her ears, slow and almost silky. Delighted and yet a little astonished, like he can’t quite believe his luck. Definitely a dude. Blowjob or penetration? Either way, this guy’s pent up, she thinks. She’s also guessing that the girl’s orgasm was from fingering or cunnilingus, which means the show is not anywhere near to being done.

There’s only so many people left who it could be…

Her phone vibrates on her chest and she finally opens her eyes again, lifting it above her face and squinting at the overly bright screen.

Finnick: I can’t believe you’re sleeping on this. Do you hear this?!

Johanna frowns. The time stamp is right now. Which rules out Finnick and Annie in apartment 4. Damn it. They were the most obvious choice for a man-woman pairing going at it with this much abandon, and while Johanna is pretty sure they have mind numbingly, porn worthy good sex, they’re unfortunately discreet about it. 

It’s maddening.

Whenever she talks about Finnick and Annie, Johanna’s therapist always hums that way therapists sometimes do when they know you’re engaging in something destructive or unhealthy — such as a minor obsession with your best friend’s love and sex life — but the therapist wants you to figure it out on your own. Johanna can’t help it. Finnick’s a walking sexual fantasy for almost every woman out there. Even her lesbian friends find him hot. And Annie’s gorgeous. Johanna can’t help it if she not so secretly wants them to sandwich her. She’s got a good strap on that Annie could borrow to get it done.

But alas, or maybe fortunately, Finnick’s text eliminates them as the current lucky couple. Pity. She was hoping for something new to add to her spank bank.

Johanna: Where are you?

Finnick: Well we were asleep.

Johanna: Boring. You could be giving them competition.

As if to punctuate her point, a steady cadence of low, slow moans begins filling the air. They weave through the humidity and now Johanna is just angry.

Johanna: Do you know who it is? 

Finnick: Nope. I have my theories…

Johanna: Ugh spare me. 

There’s three potential couples left, and of those three, Johanna’s got a good guess who Finnick thinks it is, or at least wants it to be.

Johanna: I’ll gouge out my eyes if it’s them.

Finnick: Say it. Call them the name.

Johanna: I’m not using that stupid nickname, you absolute child

Finnick: Like you’re any better. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, stop. You’re gonna make me come,” the lucky man gasps. The woman must say something because he chuckles and whispers back to her, the tone traveling if not the words.  Johanna sets her phone down then, perked up by shuffling noises that sound maybe like a position change. 

So who is left…

There’s Haymitch and Effie. Those two… residents of apartments 9 and 11 respectively…they pretend like they hate one another, and maybe they really do. While Johanna enjoys their epic fights, she’s not overly fond of their making up sessions. She’s pretty sure Effie was some kind of tantric goddess or pretzel in another life with the way that woman can bend.

It’s…unnatural.

Her phone vibrates again and Johanna lifts it in front of her face, this time it’s a notification from Facebook, sent out to all the residents in the group.

Effie: I have already filed a complaint with Mr. Heavensbee in regards to the broken a/c. He says there will be a repairman here first thing in the morning. In the meantime, we should all attempt to be cordial in our behaviors and not disturb the other residents since all will likely have the windows open for the night.

A text almost immediately after let’s Johanna know what her friend thinks of that.

Finnick: Where’s your sense of fun, Effie?

Johanna bites back a snort. Although the notice does rule out the exuberant woman as a candidate for Porn Queen tonight, so Johanna texts Finnick again.

Johanna: My money is on Cashmere and Gloss

Johanna sends the text and waits for the response. She’s not disappointed. She cackles internally at the flood of barf emojis and angry exclamations she gets back. Cashmere and Gloss of apartment 1, or as Johanna likes to call them, The Lannisters. Because they may be brother and sister, but they’re totally doing the nasty. Really nasty.

No one believes Johanna about this, though, and she’s not about to tell the other residents how she knows it’s a fact, not just some cockamamy theory of hers. People get pushed off walls for things like that. 

Not to mention then they’d all figure out that she can see into their apartments as well and there goes that bit of fun. 

“Fuck,” the lucky dude draws the word out into almost a croak, and there’s a soft sigh from her.

Finnick: Something is wrong with you

Johanna: Do you think he’s well hung? Whoever he is?

Finnick: Who cares as long as he knows how to use it?

Johanna shakes her head at this, easily able to picture her friend wiggling his eyebrows. 

Johanna: He sounds well hung. It could still be Haymitch, sans Effie

After all, Haymitch isn’t officially tied down, and at the last residence brunch, Peeta’s good friend Delly was visiting and wasn’t at all subtle about her attraction to Haymitch. The girl was deceptively sweet, bubbly and innocent, but with those knockers on her chest and the way she kept laughing at Haymitch’s worst jokes, Johanna is pretty sure Delly has a thing for the much older man.

Finnick: I’m going to ignore your obsession with Haymitch’s junk for now. And also nope. Annie says she can see Haymitch through our window, sitting on his balcony, drinking.

Finnick: Alone.

Well damn. There goes that theory. Just to be sure, Johanna turns her head and cranes her neck. Sure enough, Haymitch sits on his balcony, lounged back in his chair with a glass in hand. After a second or two, he must feel eyes on him because he looks down towards Johanna and lifts the glass in toast.

Which is when the wall pounding begins and the lucky man’s moans start to grow out of control. Damn. They’re really into it now. 

Finnick: You know I’m right

Johanna: You’re ridiculous.

Finnick: It’s Peeniss. How much you wanna bet?

Johanna rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Finnick has some crazy theory that Peeta Mellark, baker and all around way too nice guy of apartment 8 is somehow secretly dating Katniss-I-Will-Shoot-You-If-You-Touch-Me-Everdeen of apartment 12. Not that the girl doesn’t need a good fuck. If anyone is desperately in need of a body shaking, mind blowing, toe curling orgasm, like the one currently building in the summer night, it’s that perpetually scowling and uptight bitch. 

Johanna just seriously doubts that the woman now moaning in cadence with the steady headboard thumps and the increasing volume is Katniss. She sounds way too into it, relaxed. Whoever she is, she’s getting nailed five ways to Sunday and is ecstatic about it.

It could be one of Katniss’ lovely roommates. Katniss lives with her younger sister and one of her best friends, Madge Undersee, in apartment 12. They’re crammed into it somehow… but before Johanna can suggest it to Finnick, she dismisses the idea. 

Prim’s at college, left three days ago…so it won’t be her. Shame. She’s been living under her big sister’s overprotective arch so long that the poor girl has got some catching up to do in the sex arena. College will be good for that, but it means she’s not the woman–

“Fuck yeah.” A resounding slap and the accompanying whimper make Johanna’s eyes go wide. “Lift that ass for me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Love it when you do that.”

Whoa. Okay.

It could be Madge. Or Gale who lives right next door in apartment 13, but they’re almost as unlikely candidates as Katniss. Johanna is pretty sure Madge is a lesbian. Closeted still, unfortunately, because Johanna wouldn’t mind burying her face between those creamy thighs. And Gale… well it could be Gale, Johanna supposes, with some lucky girl who doesn’t live in Victor’s Square. 

Maybe Delly.

Shame it’s not me, Johanna thinks and risks stretching a little. It has been her before, in her own apartment, because while Gale is usually down to fuck, he’s never down to doing it in his apartment. 

That’s because he’s got a massive boner for Katniss and isn’t willing to risk her knowing that he fucks around with at least half a dozen girls that are not Katniss. Masochist. That’s what Gale is. But it’s also why Johanna doubts that Gale is the guy currently balls deep in ecstasy. He’s too loud for someone who wants to keep his sex life secret from his neighbor.

As for Peeta…well it could be Peeta with a girl who isn’t Katniss. He’s handsome and sweet enough to get plenty of pussy, if he tried—

“No! Don’t stop!”

“You don’t get to come again just yet,” the man growls and Johanna automatically clenches her thighs at the commanding tone.

More shuffling and grunting. One yelp from her, then the pounding resumes. And doesn’t let up.

“Harder!”

Faster and faster, his moans keeping pace. The resounding slapping of skin.

 “Gonna – gonna!”

A chorus of “yes’s” and desperate pleas.

“Fucking yes! Peeta!”

Her phone goes off with a stupid amount of speed.

Finnick: I TOLD YOU!!!! 

Johanna types madly at this. 

Johanna: So it’s not the Lannisters, but that doesn’t mean it’s Katniss up there with Peeta. 

Finnick: Oh come on! Who else could it be? You know he’s got it bad for her!

Okay yeah, there is that. There’s also the fact that Johanna shouldn’t be so bitter about this. Just like Katniss is in dire need of a good fuck, so is Peeta. But based on the sounds and the things they said…

Whoever she is, she’s still squealing and the thumping hasn’t let up yet. Damn that’s a long orgasm, Johanna thinks with more than a little jealousy.

“Come for me. Fucking come inside me. Now. Peeta!” 

Those aren’t the words of a sexually frustrated prude talking, Johanna wants to say. Nor are they words of a couple going at it for the first time. Nope. This couple is way too comfortable with each other for it to be a first time. This couple has fucked before. Maybe often.

Go baker boy, Johanna wants to say, but she can’t imagine who he’s with. He hasn’t so much as brought a date home in a year.

A series of texts from Finnick crop up on her phone. Flame emojis and winking faces. An eggplant or two and the three drops of water people use to represent cum. Johanna slouches in her chair, a little miffed that she can’t shut Finnick up yet until…

There’s a deep growling, animalistic sound. A long string of curse words mixed with moans and then— 

“Katniss. Fuuuuuuuuck.”

The curse word takes him about a minute to get out all the way. Damn it, Johanna thinks. Now Finnick will be impossible to live with. She can’t even look at her phone as it blows up again, knowing that he’ll be gloating. Instead she turns it off. 

As carefully as she can, Johanna peels herself off the lounge chair and tiptoes towards the stairs, intent on reaching her own balcony. Not because it sits caddy corner to Peeta’s apartment and if they’re in his room, it’ll be easier for her to hear any pillow talk. Not at all.

She hurries and nearly gives herself away with the door, but manages it. She stands in the shadows of her balcony and nearly chokes on her tongue at the first thing she hears, besides the unmistakable sounds of coming down thrusts or sucks, maybe kissing, quiet aftermath moans.

“Hold still. I’m not done.”

“Feels too good,” he pants. “Can’t take much more, Katniss.” 

“Mmm, you’ll take it and you’ll like it.”

“Yeah, I will,” he says and she giggles. 

“Are you braiding my hair?”

“Can’t help it. You look so gorgeous sucking yourself off my dick… I can stop…”

“No… go ahead.”

Another few seconds of suction noises and then Peeta sighs in relief.

There’s the fwump and creak of a bed under weight. Johanna can practically see them all cuddled up like a cute little couple in his bed. Sighing and kissing and caressing in their afterglow. 

Disgusting.

“Such a cute ass, and all mine,” Katniss says and there’s a slap then a gasp.

Fucking hell, Johanna thinks, eyes bulging out of her head.

Who would’ve thought the two of them would be so wild in bed? Who would’ve thought they were actually fucking each other?

Johanna wrinkles her nose then, finally forcing herself to go inside her own place. Just out of curiosity, though, she chances one last peek at Peeta’s place. The curtains are drawn, but a helpful gust sucks them out the window just long enough for Johanna to catch a glimpse of two naked bodies on his bed, illuminated in the soft glow of a lamp. Katniss with her head tipped over the edge in the direction of the window and a smile on her face as Peeta kisses a lazy path over her body. Her fingers plucking absently at the tangled sheets.

Well damn and fuck.

Johanna heads to bed after that and prepares a salvo of taunting for tomorrow morning. There’s no way she’s letting something this juicy go unremarked upon, especially since literally everyone who was home would’ve heard it.

Act 3

In the morning, Johanna is up early and down at the community center well before the once a month residents’ brunch that Effie insists on hosting. Poor thing is pinch faced and pale this morning, flummoxed when Johanna offers to help set up.

“I suppose. Since no one else appears to be out and about yet. Nothing funny with the vegetables this time,” Effie chastises and Johanna salutes. She’s got better things planned than erotic displays with the produce.

Honestly, she couldn’t care less about the flower arrangements or the energy inherent in the order of food laid out on the table. Helping Effie this morning affords her a prime view through the community center windows of each stairwell and of everyone arriving this morning.

And not just for brunch, she thinks with a smirk as she spots Gale, still wearing his work shirt, sneaking up a stairwell towards apartment 13. 

Where have you been all night? Johanna wonders. Not with Katniss, the girl he’s so obviously got the hots for. Even better for the impending drama. She wonders if he’ll find his neighbors present or if Katniss is still cozied up with Peeta in post coital bliss. They’re probably totally morning sex people, Johanna decides.

Slow, sweet morning sex with loving words. Ugh, gag me, Johanna rolls her eyes at her own thoughts.

Preparations move swiftly after that, even with Effie on her case every few minutes. The pending drama is just too great to dampen her mood.

Peeta’s one of the first to arrive, conspicuously alone. He chats with Johanna for a few minutes, friendly as always, and then moves off as more of the residents arrive.

It takes everything in Johanna’s energy reserve to not throw something at the back of his head. He acts like he didn’t have the fuck of his life last night. It befuddles her and also infuriates her because it means Finnick could be right. 

Oh my god, Finnick could be right about them! They might actually be dating. Who’s to say they aren’t if they can keep their sex life together such a secret. If the air conditioner hadn’t failed…

Peeta’s nonchalance this morning throws all her arguments against Finnick’s stupid Peeniss theories out the window. How is that even possible? She had Peeta pegged as a total softie. Hand holding, nose rubbing, and obnoxiously cute, borderline clingy PDA type of guy, not a rail you into the bed then pretend I don’t even know you the next morning type of guy.

Huh. Pegging. Wonder if he’s into that, Johanna thinks then has to forcibly shake the image out of her head. Because not only does it make sense in a way, but the image is also…sexy as fuck. And she doesn’t need yet another happy dappy ass couple to fantasize about and maker her therapist hum at her in that knowing way.

Fuck Finnick and his stupid theories.

When the tenants of apartments 12 and 13 finally arrive together, Madge splits off to talk to Mags. Gale and Katniss are both suspiciously wet haired. If Johanna didn’t know any better, she’d guess that they were the culprits last night, especially when Katniss doesn’t even so much as look in Peeta’s direction.

Her cheeks are flushed, but she’s avoiding her fuck buddy, talking to literally everyone else, twisting the damp ends of her braid around her finger.

“What do you make of it?” Johanna asks Finnick, bumping her hip into his. He shrugs, with that insufferable smirk on his face that he always gets whenever he’s right.

For two people who were so clearly intimate last night, Katniss and Peeta are doing a pretty good job of acting like the other one doesn’t even exist.

“They’re just… both very private people. But the signs are all there for anyone paying attention.”

“But that’s the thing… the signs aren’t there!” Johanna protests. What game are they playing, she wonders.

“I just don’t get it,” Johanna says and Finnick glances down at her.

“What?”

She waves her hands at Peeta, who looks for all the world like he’s fascinated by whatever Caesar is talking about. But why would he be when Katniss is literally right there.

“They act like nothing happened.”

“Well we know something happened,” Finnick says conspiratorially. Then his smile slips. “Actually, everyone here knows about it.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Apparently everyone was home last night…”

“Not Gale,” Johanna adds and lifts one eyebrow. Finnick’s eyes go wide and his mouth turns round.

“Oh my. Delicious.”

“Isn’t it?”Johanna says. “But still… you wouldn’t guess it from the way they act.”

“They can’t stop looking at each other.”

Johanna turns her head and motions at them. Absolutely not looking at one another.

“Are not.”

“You missed it. Gotta be quick with these two.”

Johanna shakes her head as she watches Katniss, and Gale who is placing some kind of food on her plate. She’s nodding and listening to him but subtly shifting the food off to the side of her plate while picking up something else and nibbling on it straight away.

And finally, Johanna can’t take it anymore. She stomps over to the tables and loads up her own plate, absolutely not eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Thought you were gonna text me when you got off work?” Gale says.

“Oh. Something came up… Prim. Prim needed to talk.”

“Everything alright?” Gale asks.

And this time, Johanna just catches the quick dart of gray eyes towards blue. Peeta’s shy smile. Katniss’ swift flutter of lashes and nibble on her bottom lip before returning her attention to Gale.

“It is now.”

“Usually is after a seriously good orgasm or two. And by the way, that’s low, using your baby sister as an excuse,” Johanna snorts. She doesn’t mean to, but it just sort of slips out.

Katniss whips around to face her. Dark rouge staining her high cheekbones and her lips pinched together.

“My sister isn’t an excuse.”

“Oh please. Cut the crap.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Katniss hisses.

“I’m talking about the fact that we never see the two of you so much as kiss or even hold hands in public, but last night, I heard you having sex. Loud sex. Phenomenal, shake the rafters loud, sex.” Johanna smirks at the pair of stunned faces looking at her. And the dozen curious faces plus Peeta’s mortified one. All of them focused on her. Center stage, she thinks with a grin and waves a half eaten croissant around at the gathered crowd. “We all heard you. Except for Gale here who was probably out getting consolation tail since you didn’t text him. Really, Brainless, what do you expect if you and baker boy are gonna bang with the windows open?”

There’s ten seconds of stunned silence before Finnick shouts, “I figured it out first, by the way!” Then he grunts as Annie elbows him in the gut.

“Baker boy?” Gale practically growls and Johanna sashays away as Peeta steps over to stand behind a now scowling Katniss. Her hand clenches into a fist as she faces Gale. She leans back against Peeta’s chest, as if she knows he’s there before she even sees him. Good for her. At least she’s not going to shy away from it. But now they’re going to be every bit as insufferably disgusting as Finnick and Annie are.

Love’s a bitch, oh well. Time for that popcorn, Johanna thinks.

[marveloussupernerd]

This was a request (I posted the first part of it last night but it’s also here for convenience of reading) relating to the @terrible-mm-headcanons that Jaehee has a bottle of scotch under her desk at work. Again check out their account they’re probably the nicest person ever

I only drank to forget our fight - Jaehee Kang

Summary: you think Jaehee is overworking herself again. She wants support, but you don’t give it. She finds comfort in the bottle of scotch under her desk. Then she finds comfort in you

“Jaehee,” you grabbed her arm before she left the door. “I’m worried about you. You’ve been going to work earlier and earlier and leaving later and later.” It was true. Despite your efforts, she didn’t want to quit working for Jumin. He promised he would be nicer with the workload, and he was for a while, but that seemed to be gone now.

“We’re in our busy season. Things will calm down soon,” she explained, shrugging it off so that she could hurry to work.

“But Jaehee,” you stopped her again. “You left at 5 this morning. Stopped by for a fifteen minute lunch. That’s not much of a break. When do you think you’ll be home?”

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Probably not until 9:30.” She always underestimated. 9:30 meant 10.

“That’s 17 hours.”

“I’m getting paid well for it. Once I get some time off we can go on a lovely vacation to-“

“No, Jaehee!” You snapped. You hadn’t meant to snap at her, but somebody needed to open her eyes. Your kind words weren’t doing it. “A vacation? You’ve never had a vacation. How about when Jumin promised you less work and more time off? Have we had one vacation yet?”

Her cheeks heated up, embarrassed to be scolded like that. “No...” she trailed off. Her voice was quiet.

“Jaehee,” you sighed, face falling at the way she took your lecture. “You’re supposed to fight back. You believe what you’re doing is right. I’m your equal. I won’t be mad. Fight back.”

“I don’t want to.” She looked down at the floor.

“Then you know you need to make a change,” you stated. “If you believed what you were doing was right, you would have raised your voice.”

“That’s not true.” She was a little louder. She glanced up at you.

You sighed. “I wish you could see it the way I do, Jaehee.” You reached out to grab her hand. She yanked it away.

“I don’t want to. I’m perfectly happy here. And if you’re not, then that sounds like something you should look at and make a change.” Her voice was cold, emotionless.

“Jae-“

“I’m late.” She slammed the door.

You sighed, staring at the door for a minute. You didn’t like leaving things this way, but you knew I’d you went after her or called her right now it would probably make things worse. The worst thing was that you doubted she would come home tonight; she had been practically living with you, but had her own apartment as well (she wasn’t ready to commit to moving in yet). She’d probably stay at her own place.

How would you make it up to her? You hadn’t meant to upset her, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from talking. You’d have to go to the store and pick out some nice gifts for her. You shrugged on your coat and headed out to the nearest craft store.

While you were out, you picked up some chocolate, some fancy coffee K-cups, a blank card (there weren’t many “Sorry I was an asshole” cards), and lots of soft fabric. You were going to try and make her a little tie blanket.

It took you way too long to go shopping, so one you got home you decided to call Jaehee and apologize. You dialed her number, putting your phone on speaker so you could start laying out the fabric.

“This is C&R Chief Assistant Jaehee Kang. I can’t make it to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I’ll call back as soon as possible.” Voicemail.

“Hi Jae,” you started, “I hope you’re doing okay. I’m so sorry for upsetting you right before you had to go to work. I didn’t mean to. Please... let me make it up to you. Call me back when you get the chance so we can talk this out. Love you.” You hung up. She was probably busy with work. You tried to reassure yourself that that was the case; it wasn’t that she was ignoring your calls on purpose because she didn’t want to talk to you.

You shook your head, refocusing, then got to work on the tie blanket. Who knows how long you spent at it? Probably a few hours. And no call from Jaehee, no texts or anything. It was 8 pm.

There was a knock at the door. Kinda sus. But you went over, looking out the peephole to see Jumin standing there.

You quickly unlocked the door and opened it. “Jumin! What are you doing here?”

“I’ve brought Assistant Kang.” She walked over to him, leaning against the doorway slightly. “She seemed quite upset and... inebriated. I didn’t want her to be alone.”

“Jumin, that’s really nice of you,” you smiled. “I’m sorry she drank on the job. That’s my fault. We got into a bit of a thing.”

“Oh!” His eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“Not a problem.” You turned to look at Jaehee. “Jaehee, why don’t you come in? Thank you so much Jumin. You’re welcome to come in and stay for a while if you’d like.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude, but thank you.” He took note of your worried face and paused. “Don’t worry about this; Assistant Kang has seen me at my worst countless times. It’s about time I returned the favor.” He... smiled? You smiled back. It was a relief to hear that he wasn’t insulted by Jaehee’s act. You bid him good night and focused on the other problem.

“Hi Jaehee. Welcome home,” you smiled. The good thing about Jaehee was that she was a pretty happy drunk... goofy and definitely not there mentally, but happy.

“I’m so happy to see you,” she grinned, waltzing over to you and pressing a kiss on your lips. She did smell like alcohol.

“I’m happy to see you too,” you commented, treading very lightly around the topic. She was happy as a drunk, but also extremely sensitive. “Did you drink tonight?”

She nodded. “I think I had like...” she looked down at her fingers, “half? A bottle of Scotch.”

“You know you shouldn’t drink at work,” you told her, slightly firmly. You reached down to grab her hand gently.

“I know... just-“ her eyes got very cloudy and expressive. “I’m the worst girlfriend ever!”

“Hey, hey.” You caught her attention. “No you’re not. I went too far. It’s my fault.”

“But everything you said was true!” Her eyes were watery. “I do work too much and I don’t show my emotions because I’m scared you won’t like me if I do.”

“Aw, Honey.” You pulled her in for a hug. She buried her face in your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said them. At least not that harshly. I was out of control and out of line and I’m so sorry I upset you.”

“I’m sorry I upset you,” she commented, voice muffled.

“Let’s call it even, huh?” You pulled back to look at her, kissing the top of her head. “I think we should get you a bath.”

“You just want me to take my clothes off,” she winked, undoing the top button of her blouse.

“Not true!” You pouted. “I just want you to not smell like alcohol maybe.”

She continued to unbutton as you helped her stumble to the bathroom. You helped her unzip her skirt and slide out of it. As she took her undergarments off, you started the bath for her. It wasn’t like this was something you had never seen before; the two of you practically lived together.

You held her hand as you helped her get into the tub and sat next to it, helping her make sure she got all the shampoo out of her hair and was fully washed up. She had long forgotten the ‘ploy’ to get her naked and was now enjoying the warm water. In fact, she was extremely reluctant to get out, but you were exhausted.

“Hey, I got you a present,” you incentivized. She raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Really? What is it?”

You smiled. “I made you a really fuzzy blanket. Cut all the pieces and tied it together all by myself. And I bought coffee of course. And fancy chocolates.”

Her mouth dropped into a little ‘o’. “Is it our anniversary? And I forgot?”

“No! You’re all good. I just wanted to make it up to you with something. So once you get out of the bath and dressed in your pjs, maybe we could cuddle and eat chocolate and watch one of Zen’s musicals?” Zen’s musicals were sacred ground. You didn’t watch them too often, only when you and Jaehee were celebrating something big or had an especially bad day. It was like a special treat.

She shot out of the bathtub, almost losing her balance if it weren’t for you placing an arm around her waist. She quickly dried off and threw on a pair of your pjs. You worked on getting everything set up, listening very closely to make sure she didn’t fall or need help or anything. She was still drunk, after all.

She bounced in on the balls of her feet. “Zen musical!” She cheered. She stopped bouncing. She looked sick.

You giggled. “Take it easy Jae. You feel okay?”

She glanced over at you, all wrapped up in the blanket you made her and cozy. She nodded excitedly and sat down next to you, situating herself between your legs.

Jaehee drunkenly sang the songs, preaching Zen’s monologue. You couldn’t hold back your laughs, gently running your fingers through her hair and massaging her temples. She was gonna feel this tomorrow. But hopefully she’d also feel super loved. That was your main goal.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

You’re my best friend; John Deacon x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay wow I can’t believe I almost missed this deadline but I had this story already up on my Wattpad for the past 2 months so I wanted to transfer it once this deadline came. This is for @writing-of-a-british-bitch​‘s 1k challenge and I asked to do the “Your my best friend” song choice. 

Now some things had transpired between joining this contest and the time I decided to write it and I really needed to get this pain out. As some of you may know from a post over 2 months ago, I lost my baby black kitty Sassy to Kidney failure. And I realize this was meant to be a fluff fic but I couldn’t help but really write this fic in memory of my baby girl. So some fluff and angst but sadly mostly angst is in this fic. So I apologize if I kinda went back on my word Phoebe but I hope this is still okay for your contest.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@queendeakyy​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@kairosfreddie​

@dancingcoolcat​

@geek-and-proud​

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Kidney Failure. Those are two words that no pet owner wants to hear. My beautiful baby girl Sassy had officially been diagnosed with Kidney failure as well as Kidney stones. At first with her not eating I thought she was just being a little stubborn, then after doing some scary research on why senior cats won't eat, it showed signs of her dying. Then after seeing her cough up some blood early one morning before I wanted to go see a movie, I was told by my parents to take her straight to the vet.

And since I was dealing with this all alone, I was forced to be told by myself and suffer for a full day of the news of my precious black kitty. I had gotten her 15 years ago shortly after my first cat Missy died. She was rescued by an independent rescue woman who had a house full of cats, out of thousands of cats she had, a small, tiny and very skittish kitten stood out of all the rest. Even though at the time my mom wanted a white cat with blue eyes and pink ears, we fell in love with this cute little girl, and I named her Sassy after the cat from Homeward Bound.

For years she was always the skittish girl. Anytime a doorbell would ring, she'd rush out and hide all day. But she was the sweetest cat anyone could ask for. I would always bring her up into my room whenever things got too stressful in my life, or I just wanted to be with her. I'd put her on my bed and just let her sleep there for all hours of the day.

As time went on, she even came to my own rescue like when I got my wisdom teeth removed and I had to recover up in my room. The first night, Sassy had actually came up into my room willingly, hopped right on my bed and slept right beside me for about 3 hours. She's my baby and now she's suffering the same fate my male cat did just several years ago.

My girl's always been the one with health problems throughout her life. First it was the UTI's, then bladder stones, and now she has to take some pills for her thyroid for the rest of her life (she's been on the thyroid pills for roughly about 3 years now), but this—this just blows everything out the window cause now it's evident that she's possibly coming close to the end of her days.

The vet told me what all needed to happen, a couple days of IV to get her fully hydrated, some anti-biotics, and just keeping her as comfortable as possible. So she went through the two days of IV, she's currently on the antibiotic and just has 3 more days to take it while still taking her thyroid pills (I now had to resort to giving it to her liquidly through a syringe since she no longer does the pill pockets anymore).

I don't wanna lose my baby girl. She's my life, my baby, my best friend and I—I don't know what I'm gonna do when the time comes for her when she finally.....

"(Y/n)?" I looked up and there was my dad.

"Hey dad."

"Sweetie, how are you doing? Really?" he said as he came into my room and sat down by my bed.

"I—I'm scared dad. I don't wanna lose my girl. On top with all the stress of trying to find a job, I just can't even focus on anything else but my baby girl."

"I know, I know sweetie." He brought me closer for a hug and I allowed the tears to softly fall down my face. "Maybe—you should get out of the house. Go see those friends of yours, isn't that offer for you to join them at the farm still available?"

"But dad I don't wanna leave Sassy behind. What if she dies while I'm away? That's already what happened to both Hudson and Missy because of school. And I promised that if it ever came Sassy's time I wouldn't allow anything to keep me away from her."

"But if you just solely keep focused on her, you're only gonna make yourself sick. What you need now is time to yourself, spend it with your friends, maybe they can help you out. Maybe even John can help you see. Cause at this rate I feel like you'll only listen to that boyfriend of yours." I softly chuckled as he did to.

"I think I'll just surprise them. They always drop by unannounced at my place either way." He chuckled and said.

"Whatever you want to do. I will watch Sassy for you and make sure she's comfortable. And I promise you if anything does happen, I'll give you a call."

"Thanks dad. I'm glad you came back early."

"Of course. Sassy's important to all of us." I nodded. "You get some sleep now okay sweetie, you've got a long drive ahead of you." I nodded again as my dad kissed the top of my head and gave me a big bear hug.

Once he left my room after shutting my door, I lay there on my bed and allowed the tears to continue to fall as I silently cried myself to sleep.

A few hours later I was on the open road heading towards Rockfield farm where my friends and boyfriend John Deacon. Oh yeah I forgot to mention, John Deacon of Queen is my long time boyfriend. We got together roughly at around Year 10 of secondary school, and even though we ended up going to different colleges, we still kept close to each other with visits and holiday stuff.

In fact, I was the one who convinced him to try out for Queen since I had Freddie Mercury in an art class of mine. And he just decided to take me in as his best friend since we both loved cats (the first time I showed him a picture of my two furbabies he was hooked and wanted to know everything about them).

So I introduced John to the band when Fred told me they needed a new bassist, he auditioned and—the rest was history. As mentioned earlier they were currently at Rockfield farm studios recording their next album 'A Night at the Opera'. Deacy had offered the chance for me to tag along as moral support/citizen critic but when I told him that I was worried about Sassy, he understood but kept the offer open in case I changed my mind.

After what felt like an eternity of driving I finally arrived at the farm just a little bit after 10:30am. I parked the car right next to a blue beetle and got out of my car after shutting off the engine. I looked around the place and saw that it was definitely far out of civilization and distractions, maybe this could be what I needed.

"(Y/n)?" I heard a voice say. I turned around and wearing a pink woman's top and white pants holding a cigarette between his fingers was none other than Freddie Mercury.

"Hey Fred."

"Oh darling it's been so long come here!" I walked over to him as he tossed the cigarette aside into the gravel and extended his arms out. I was then given the biggest bear hug that Freddie is known to give. "Why didn't you tell us we were coming?"

"Figured I surprise you all. You're not pissed are you?"

"Absolutely not dear, a visit from you is like seeing an angel grace our presence. And maybe this time Deacy can pick up the slack." I softly giggled as we separated from each other. "So how are things at home? Deacy said poor Sassy was feeling under the weather, how is the little dear?" at that point I grew sad again. "(Y/n)? Dear was it something I said?"

"Freddie I—the reason I came here was because of Sassy. She's—not doing so good." At that point his face grew worried.

"Come darling, let's sit on the porch swing and talk. You look like you're about to burst into tears." He wrapped an arm around me as we walked towards the front porch of the house and sat down on the cushioned porch swing. Freddie sat to my left and said, "Now then darling, tell me everything." I took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him.

"Last Sunday Mary and I were planning on going to see a movie, but as I was getting around I had seen Sassy laying near where she had just spit up, but what scared me was that there was blood mixed with the phlegm that she had puked up. So I called Mary and told her I had to take her to the vet, they ran some tests on her and......" I sniffled and felt the tears starting to come back. "Freddie she's suffering from kidney failure." He gasped in horror as he covered his mouth with his hand.

"Oh my god......(y/n) I—I'm so sorry dear. Oh come here you." He brought me close into his chest and tears once again began to fall down my face. "Oh my poor dear, I can't imagine what you must be feeling. If it were one of my darlings, I'd be feeling just as heartbroken as you. How—how long has she got?"

"Well thankfully the doctor said if we just keep an eye on her. Cause she's still drinking water, going to the bathroom, and eating when she wants to she could live a little while longer. But Freddie—she's 6lbs now and every time you hold her—you can just feel her bones. It's like picking up a stuffed animal at this point."

"Oh the poor little darling. Does she still walk?"

"Yeah she can still walk, but she—she drags her back legs or stumbles around before just giving up. We're trying to keep her on the main level of our house trying to limit the amount of times of her going either up or down the stairs. Sometimes she'll eat twice a day, sometimes it'll take her well over 24 hours before she eats again."

"Okay. So what all have you done for her?"

"Well she had to do 2 days of IV to get her rehydrated. Now she's on an antibiotic for the next ten days, she'll be done with it in three days so my dad's gonna finish it all off. He said I needed a break from all the stress cause along with her being sick and me struggling to find a job, I've barely been able to keep myself together."

"Your dad's a smart man. Cause dear no offense but you really look like shit."

"Gee thanks Freddie." I sassed back sarcastically.

"Now, now I don't mean any offense by it. I'm just—"

"I know what you mean Fred. Its just—I don't wanna lose my baby girl. I know she's getting older hell she's 16 years old. But I—I don't wanna lose my baby just yet. Not when my life is fully about to begin."

"I know darling, I know." He comforted me as he rubbed my back. I felt him kiss the crown of my head. "Listen to me, okay? You gave that beautiful black cat the best 16 years of her life. And who knows maybe she'll tough it out and stick with you for another 3 years. She knows you love her, and knows that you are doing everything to take care of her."

"You truly are the cat guru Freddie."

"Well comes with experience. But I've seen for myself the love you've given that precious thing. And, god forbid, when the day does come for her to move on, she'll have you to thank for being the best mummy cat she's ever had. And loved her even with her being the skittish thing that she was. Cause other than you, I would've been the only one to see the potential in her."

"Yeah she was a precious thing when I saw her and briefly got to play with her when she was just a kitten." Freddie wiped my tears away with the sleeve of his shirt and he asked me.

"Feeling any better?"

"A little. Thanks Freddie. It takes a cat parent to understand just what I'm going through."

"I'm always here for you dear. And hey, just so you know, my furbabies are your furbabies. They love you just as much as your own do, so anytime you need to come over, they'll be happy to see you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Shall I get Deacy?"

"Actually I would like to come in, I've been driving since 1am this morning and I could really use a bed right now."

"Or is it just so you and Deacy can—"

"Get your mind out of the gutter you rotter!" he chuckled and said.

"Of course dear, come in come in I'll grab your bags." I went to protest but he stopped me, "No darling I will not take no for an answer." He grabbed my suitcases and we entered inside the house.

It was a charming little house of sorts with old knick-knacks, pictures whether painted or old photographs, and completely wooded interior. Kinda reminded me of my grandparent's place a little bit, a true country home.

"My darlings, we've got a surprise visitor with us to—" Freddie announced as we came into the kitchen. "Oh fuck seriously Roger? I thought I heard a crash but never did I think you'd go that far."

"What else do you expect Fred? Brian said my song wasn't strong enough so I figured I'd show him if this was strong enough!!"

"Perhaps I shouldn't have come after all." I made myself known. At that point Deacy popped right out of his seat and rushed right over towards me and embraced me. I hugged him back and buried my face into his neck. God every time I got a hug from the love of my life, I was already happy and at home with him.

"Why didn't you call and tell me you were coming?"

"And miss the surprise look on your face? I don't think so." He chuckled before separating from me to cup the side of my face. I felt his calloused thumb stroke my cheek gingerly and he placed a soft kiss to my brow.

"Ugh it's too early for you guys to act all lovie-dovie!" Roger complained.

"Oh put a sock in it Rog!" I sassed at him.

"It really is good to see you here (y/n). so what brought on this surprise visit?" asked Brian. My smile dropped and I solemnly looked down.

"My love?" Deacy asked concerned.

"Deacy dear why don't you take (y/n) downstairs to your room and get her situated. She could really use some sleep right now, then come back up and I'll explain everything." Freddie set my stuff down and went up to Brian and Roger and wrapped his arms around their shoulders to guide them out of the kitchen.

"What's he talking about love?"

"It's—the reason why I'm here isn't a happy reason. I wish it was but I—"

"Okay, okay, okay relax. Calm down my love. Come on let's go downstairs, though I must warn you the room isn't very big."

"I'll take whatever it is Johnny." He grabbed my suitcases as wrapped an arm around me as he guided me towards the basement stairs.

And boy was he ever right. How could my beloved possible sleep in a room this cramped, not to mention cold? He set my stuff right by his before guiding me to the bed. He sat down close to me and said.

"Do you want to tell me? Or should I go up to see Freddie?"

"I—I can tell you."

"You sure?" I nodded. "Alright, if you say so. But before you speak, take a couple of deep breaths with me, okay?" he slowly breathed in and I followed behind him. We held our breath for three seconds before slowly exhaling out for five. We did this together over and over and over again till finally I was ready to tell him, and I told him everything in regard to Sassy.

As I explained everything, every now and then I would stop because I could feel tears springing in my eyes. Jesus just when I thought I had cried my last tear, they still keep coming. But my sweet, loving John had tissues at the ready and he would hand me one to wipe my face, before sitting himself even closer to me resting his head on top of mine while his arms were wrapped around me rubbing either my back or arms comfortingly.

"Oh my love. You should've called me as soon as you were told the news. You know I would've dropped everything just to be with you, to comfort you through this." He said once I had finished telling him everything.

"I didn't want to disturb you John. This album is really important to Queen and I—didn't want to distract you."

"Fuck the album, you're my first priority."

"John."

"I mean it (y/n). if you ever asked me to leave the band I will."

"You know I would never ask that of you."

"I know, I'm just saying I would. I just—I just hate the fact that I had to let you get the news alone. I knew your dad left to spend time with your mum for their anniversary together which left you to take care of Sassy and Phoebe, and to get such news all on your own." He kissed my cheek and softly stroked my cheek.

"Why are you so good to me?"

"Your my best friend, (y/n). I'll always be good to you." He leaned in and captured my lips in a soft kiss. I cupped the side of his face before separating from him and pressing my forehead to his while I felt his nose graze against mine.

I then wrapped my arms around his neck while I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me close to him so that I practically sitting on his lap. I felt his hand rub comforting circles on my back before slowly leaning back. The slightly rickety bed creaked and it was definitely a tight squeeze, but we somehow made it work with me practically lying on top of him, our legs tangled up with each other's and my head resting against his chest.

"God how did you manage to sleep on this tiny bed?" I asked.

"Trust me it's not easy. But somehow I've managed."

"The boys didn't boot you down here did they?"

"No, Paul actually gave me this room. Said that small ones don't get nearly as cold."

"Aww Deacy I'm so sorry." I cupped his jawline to which he nuzzled against my hand and gave my palm a kiss.

"Not your fault. But how are you, really (y/n)."

"Truthfully my head is literally killing me."

"Probably from dehydration from all the crying you must've been doing." He said as I felt him stroke down my hair. He kissed my forehead and set me down on the bed. "I'll get you some water and snacks for you. Gotta get you rehydrated and eating again." He pecked my nose and I smiled at him.

"Thank you Johnny."

"Anytime my love. Stay here, I'll be right back." He brushed the hair out of my face before giving me a soft peck before heading upstairs. I sighed and rested my head onto the pillows and inhaled John's scent from his shampoo that I had bought for him. It gave me a sense of comfort even while he was gone for a brief moment.

He came back down with a bottle of water and a couple bags of crisps.

"You really went all out didn't you?" I teased.

"Well if I know you, I know that when you get really sad, you tend to skip meals. And I know this isn't really the best thing for you to eat right now, but it's all we've got since Roger knocked down the leftovers bitching about his car song."

"His car song?"

"It's better if you don't ask." He sat down on the floor beside me and laid out the bags of crisps then unscrewed the bottle cap of water before placing the straw in. He held it out to me and I took a sip of it. After taking a long drink, he set it down on the nightstand right beside the bed and opened up one of the bags of crisps and proceeded to feed me.

"I can feed myself you know."

"I know, but you've been under a lot of pressure lately. With the unsuccessful job hunts as well as Sassy being sick, the least I can do is pamper you my darling. Now c'mon open up." He guided a potato crisp towards my mouth and I opened my mouth as he popped it inside my mouth.

Deacy kept on feeding me as well as giving me sips of water. Finally after feeling full from the crisps, he set them aside and crawled back into the bed with me.

"Wait, don't you have some recording to do?"

"I talked to the guys about it, I'm gonna stay here and take care of my baby today."

"No Deacy I—I'll just delay your schedule......"

"It's already said and done love, besides Freddie insisted that I stay with you. I can make up my bits tomorrow." I looked up at him and said.

"Thank you Deacy, it—this means a lot. Really, with Sassy being—"

"Shhhh, shhh. Just sleep my love. You really need it." He whispered as he gingerly stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. I closed my eyes and cuddled close to him, his hand tucked underneath my shirt and I felt his nails gently stroke up and down my back comfortingly. The mixture of his scent, his breathing and his heartbeat was like a lullaby that soothed me to sleep.

A week later, I was starting to feel a bit better than I had back at home. Deacy and the boys provided the perfect distraction, Freddie gave me a mini piano lesson as he was practicing his latest masterpiece that he deemed was going to change music forever, Brian and I would take pictures of the guys whether for his scrapbooking or just out of plain goofiness, and Roger—well Roger spent three days in a cupboard but at least he was still willing to talk to me even through the cupboard.

And of course Deacy was an angel with the warm cuddles and bass playing. I've always found comfort in seeing him play the bass, he was in his element and it was amazing to see him break out of the shy exterior and just be him. I was laying on the couch in the studio and he was fiddling around with his bass.

"Can you play me something?" I asked. He looked up and he asked.

"What would you like me to play? Liar? White Queen?"

"Do you think you can give me a sneak peek at a song from this album?"

"Well legally I'm not allowed to but....off the record if there were no Prenter nor sound engineer to be around." He stated as he got up and went over to the sound station and flipped a couple of switches.

"You clever, devious man." I giggled.

"That's why you love me. C'mere." I got up from the couch and went up to the chair he was now sitting at. He extended his hand as I got closer to him and I took his hand. He then had me sit down on his lap and I felt his arm wrap around my waist. "This was finished the night before you came to the farm. I.....I had you in mind when I was writing it."

"Oh god Deacy please tell me it's nothing like Misfire was."

"No not this time. I promise, and in a way....you can think of this song as yours and Sassy's song." He turned on the switch and soon playing through the speakers was an electric sounding instrument. "That's me on the electric piano."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Fred wanted absolutely no part of it so I sat down all night learning how to play it so that I could have it ready for recording." I awed at him and he gave me a peck to my temple and I soon heard the magnificent vocalizations of all four of my boys singing at once, their voices backtracked by their own voices making it sound like there was an entire choir backing them up.  Freddie's god-like voice singing the gentle melody of the words.

"What's it called?"

"You're my best friend." He lay my head on his shoulder and the two of us listened to the song together. I'll admit the lyrics did fit Sassy to a T. She has been there for me before in the past and she was always the one I turned to when things got rough and no one else was there for me.

When the song finally ended, I turned to John and hugged him, my arms wrapped around his neck.

"That is literally the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you John."

"I'm glad you liked it love."

"Like? Deacy 'like' doesn't even begin to describe what this song meant to me. You and Sassy are both my best friends."

"And I'm happy to share you, even if it is with a feline." I giggled and playfully nudged his shoulder which made him chuckle. "God I've really missed seeing you smile."

"What are you talking about? I've been smiling the whole time I was here."

"Oh you mean the ones that don't reach up to your eyes, the smiles that don't make your eyes twinkle and a laugh come out of that beautiful mouth of yours. Yeah those were real smiles." He sassed sarcastically.

"Okay smartass. Maybe I've—still been depressed about not being with my girl."

"And there's nothing wrong with missing her. But you also need to learn to take care of yourself as well. You looked absolutely exhausted when you first arrived, it was like you'd hardly slept a wink." I looked down shamefully. "I just want you to realize that in order for you to be there for Sassy, you also need to learn to take care of yourself. Do you understand what I'm trying to say my love?"

"Yes Deacy, I understand. I'm sorry."

"Hey, you've got no reason to be sorry. You caring about Sassy this much proves that you're a good cat mum. And maybe in the future, you'll be the same way with our own child." I smiled through a choked sob. I buried my face into John's neck as I felt his hand go underneath my shirt and once again stroking my bare skin sending comforting shivers up my back.

"I love you so much John Deacon."

"I love you so much too (y/n) (l/n)." I looked up at him and he smiled down at me softly and kissed the center of my forehead, the tip of my nose, both cheeks then finally a soft and loving kiss to my lips. "Besides, I always knew one surefire way to get that beautiful smile on your face." Oh shit.

I immediately got off his lap and went back to the couch and held the pillow out in front of me.

"Why ever did you flee from me my love?" he asked in a mocked hurt tone.

"Not another step Deacon. I know what your method is and you're not doing it."

"Whatever do you mean?" oh that little rotter he was taunting me.

"Don't make me say it Deacy!" I begged as I buried my body into the covers leaving only my head to the outside world.

"Well you're gonna have to cause all I'm doing is walking towards you and all you're doing is trying to hide yourself under the blankets and pillows." He continued to taunt as he now hovered over me, his body pinning mine to the couch.

"Deacy no!" I whined.

"No what?"

"Deacy!"

"You're gonna have to specify what I can't do my darling." He cupped the side of my face after tucking some hair behind my ear and captured my lips in a seductive kiss. He almost had me under his spell, that was until I felt him squeeze my sides through the blanket. I squealed and tried to buck him off me but he stayed on top of me. "My, my, my, what have we here?"

"John I swear to god I'll kill you if you do it."

"Do what? All I did was just graze your sides and you just reacted to it. Now what do they call that thing again when people get so sensitive to a light touch?" he pondered.

My god this little shit was good. He was trying to force me to say it.

"John please!" I begged to him with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

"Aww look at you pleading and begging with those eyes, it's so adorable. But it won't stop me. Now answer my question." I felt him squeeze my sides again and I let out a soft shrieked laugh. "God if I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't want me to......"

"Tickle me!" I blurted out.

"What a wonderful idea! You always were terribly ticklish." I then pushed him off of me and decked out of the recording studio and began racing around the barn.

I went inside the barn and tried to duck through or go around any beams I could find.

"You're not going to escape from me (n/n). You know you were always the slowest runner."

"Shut up Deacon! It's cause you always cheated with those long legs of yours!" I snapped as I ducked through the hay storage bin before getting out on the other side.

Deacy continued to chase after me for what felt like forever. And I don't know when they became involved or why they chose to do it, but somehow Roger and Freddie got involved with the chase and I was soon tackled out in the field by Roger and he was the first to start tickling me before Freddie then finally my boyfriend Deacy joined in the attack.

The three of them tickling me non-stop till I was red in the face and could barely breathe. Fred and Rog would've gone on forever had John not stopped them and forced them to let me breathe. Once I was able to catch my breath, I turned towards the two troublemakers and said.

"Where.....in the hell.....did you two.....come from?"

"From London." Freddie bluntly shrugged.

"I know that smartass. I meant during the chase." I groaned.

"Oh that well when we saw Deacy chasing you, Fred and I just want in on the action. It didn't matter what we had to do, just as long as it got you to smile kid." Roger said as he gave my hair a ruffle, messing it up.

"Roger! Rog you're messing up my hair!" I said as I tried to get his hand off my head but he would keep putting it back on top and messing my hair up even further.

"But you've got to admit darling, we did get you to smile that fabulous smile that can only be compared to Mary's." said Freddie as he wrapped an arm around me. "Plus didn't that help you just a little bit?"

"Yeah I guess so. Thanks guys, for real this week has—literally been a life saver. I think I'm ready to head back home tomorrow."

"What so soon? But darling we were just having so much fun!" whined Freddie as he brought me close to his chest.

"Plus you help lessen the stress that Prenter causes us." Said Rog.

"And the stress we cause each other. You sure you can't stay a bit longer?"

"Sorry Deacy, I gotta get back to my girl." He rubbed my back and said.

"Okay. Just—promise to call me in case anything happens. You know I'll gladly drop things here to be with you." I cupped the side of his face and stared at him lovingly.

"I'll even allow us to take time off the album so that all of us can be there for you darling." Fred said I turned towards him and Roger and saw that Roger nodded agreeing with both Fred and Deacy.

"You guys—how did I ever get lucky to have such good friends like you all?"

"You've honestly been a blessing to us dear. Never doubt that." Soon I was in a group hug with the front man, the drummer and the bassist of Queen.

The next morning I was all packed up and was hugging the guys goodbye and thanking them for helping me out this past week. I had just gotten done hugging Rog and Bri and I was now at Freddie. He smiled at me and embraced me tightly and he said in my ear.

"You be sure to call us with any updates Sassy's got."

"I will I promise." He separated from me and kissed both my cheeks.

"Drive safe (y/n) dear."

"Will do Fred." I then turned towards the love of my life, my best friend. He held his arms out and I immediately went into them and hugged him back.

"I'm so glad that you came to visit love. Drive safely back home, and call me whenever you get there."

"I will, promise me you'll continue to work hard on the album."

"Will do love." He kissed me but it was shortly interrupted by Prenter exclaiming.

"Enough of this already the boys need to get back to work!"

"Alright Prenter that's it come here!" Roger then charged after Prenter which made John and I laugh softly.

"Should we try to stop him?" I asked.

"Nah, let him take his prey. Besides he deserves it, Prenter's an arsehole anyway." He kissed my temple softly before hugging me one last time. I got into my car and waved goodbye to the guys one last time before taking off back down towards the main road.

Three days later after returning from the farm, I was back at home just waking up for the day. I once again saw Sassy lying there on the couch just like she was last night. I sighed and went up to Sassy and pet her and she shot her head up and looked at me.

"Hey baby girl, ready for your medicine?" she just looked at me before laying her head down. I went over to the sink and prepped the water bottle cap (at this point she had stopped taking the pill pockets, and since I could no longer force it down her, I resorted to liquidating the ¼ pill).

After waiting a couple of minutes I sucked the water into a syringe and walked back over to the couch. Gently as I could, I picked her up and she let out a weak meow.

"I know baby, I know. But this is just the water one this time. You got done with the antibiotic awhile ago." I placed the syringe into her mouth and she weakly opened her mouth but was still able to take in the water. Once she took it all in, I kissed her and took her over to the water bowl cause I knew she probably drink any water since last night. "Here we go baby, drink up."

I gently set her down and she merely just lay there for a moment before realizing where she was. Her head shot up and she reached her paw over the water bowl like how she normally drinks and went face first into the water, her usual way of drinking water.

Once she had her fill after lying down a few times before going back up again to drink some more. I picked her up once more and set her back down on the couch. Since it was a sunny day for the first time in a while, I decided to let my girl sunbathe, her favorite thing to do whenever the sun was out.

"Here you go little mama." I cooed as I stroked her head and kissed it. I then went back upstairs and got ready for the day. The phone rang and I picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

'Hey sweetie. Whatcha doin?' it was my dad's voice.

"Oh just—getting around and all that."

'Ahh I see. How's our girl doing?'

"She's....hanging in there." I looked towards her to see her still breathing.

'Okay good, good. So what have you got on the agenda for today?'

"Well Mikaela is coming to pick me up and we're gonna hang out for my graduation/pre b-day plans."

'Ahh I see, what time is she coming over?'

"About 10ish."

'Okay well you girls have fun and I will talk at you later okay?'

"Okay daddy, love you."

'Love you too sweetie, bye.'

"Bye." I hung up the phone and turned back towards my baby. I walked up to her and as I touched her, her paws twitched and she turned and looked up at me. "I love you so much baby girl." I kissed her head and she turned away from me. With a heavy sigh, I walked back upstairs and got around.

A couple minutes later at 10:07am I walked back downstairs to see Phoebe sitting up on the table looking at Sassy's food bowl that was there.

"Phoebe get down!" I snapped at her. She meowed as she hopped down and ran off. That's when I looked down to see the most horrifying sight I would ever see in my life.

Sassy's eyes were glazed over, and I couldn't see her breathing anymore.

"Sassy? Sassy? Sassy!" I touched her fur hoping to see her react but when he jaw went slacked, tears sprung in my eyes and I fell to my knees. I picked her up in my arms and held her close to me as I sobbed. "Sassy! No! No! No! Sassy please no!" I sobbed as I paced around the room hoping that she would wake up but all she did was lay limp against my shoulder. I placed her down on the loveseat to see if she would breathe again but she didn't.

Sassy was gone.

I ran up to the phone and dialed my dad's number and pleaded softly that he would pick up.

'Hello?' he asked.

"Daddy."

'Yeah?' his voice sounded concerned as soon as he heard the heartbreak in my voice.

"I think Sassy's dead!" I sobbed out.

'Oh my god our cat just died.'

"She was fine earlier as I said. She drank some water but when I came back downstairs I noticed that she's no longer breathing, her eyes are glazed over and she's just limp every time I hold her!"

'Okay, okay (y/n) calm down okay sweetie. Calm down. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get her cat carrier and a towel.'

"Okay."

'Okay? Then put the towel in the cat carrier and then I want you to gently put her in and take her to the vet, okay? They'll work out the cremation process.'

"Okay."

'And sweetie listen to me. At least she died at home, okay? She passed away peacefully, safe and at home instead of a cold, strange metal table. Because I had to go through that with Hudson and it was not a pretty sight. It broke me, but you gave Sassy a happy life and even with you taking care of her on your own for a while she knew you loved her.' I choked out a sob and nodded.

"I know."

'Okay but go take her to the vet, I'll call your mom and she'll get in touch with the vet.' I nodded.

"Okay I'll take her to the vet."

'Okay now your mom will be available all day for you if you need to get in touch with her. I've got a meeting to get to in the next while. But call your mom anytime you need to talk.'

"Okay."

'Okay I love you sweetheart, it's gonna be okay. At least she's not suffering anymore and that she's now at peace.'

"Yeah."

'Alright sweetie, I love you so much.'

"I love you too."

'Bye.'

"Bye." I hung up the phone and proceeded to get her ready to take her to the vet one last time. I grabbed a towel from my bathroom and tucked it in her cat carrier. I looked down at my baby with tears pouring down my face. Once I got her in the cat carrier on her side, I quickly wrote a note for Mikaela and taped it to the door before finally rushing out to my car and race towards the vet.

When I got there, I stood there waiting for what felt like forever in the small vet clinic till finally one of the vet techs came in. She walked over to me, empathy in her eyes and she said.

"Your mum called and told us what happened. We'll get started with the cremation process, are there any questions you have for us?"

"Just.....just make sure that this is for real. I—don't wanna try anything unless I know it's for real."

"Okay." She took my cat carrier and walked into the back room. I sat down by the window trying to calm myself down. The doors opened and there stood my best friend Mikaela.

"Hey I got your message, are you okay?"

"I don't know dude. Thank god you're here though."

"Of course, of course." She sat down beside me and wrapped an arm around me. It was then the vet came in from the back room and he greeted me.

"She has passed away. Along with the kidney stones and failure, she also suffered a stroke." I covered my mouth with my hand and allowed the tears to pour down my face even more. "We can prep the cremation. Would you like the pawprint as well as her ashes or just the pawprint?"

"Just the pawprint." I replied.

"Okay, before we take her away would you like to see her?" I turned to Mikaela before turning back to the vet and said.

"Yes."

"Okay. Come back with me." I followed behind him and Mikaela told me she'd wait outside. I went through the back door and right there on the table I saw my baby girl lying right on her stomach, her front paws extended outwards and her eyes still glassed over, her fangs exposed as her jaw was still slightly lacked.

"Take all the time you need." the vet told me as one of the technicians came and covered up just her lower body. I nodded before leaning down and pet her one last time, trying to imprint her soft fur into my hand, and my memory.

"At least she died at home, where she was most happiest." Said one of the female vet technicians.

"Yeah. She—she was sunbathing on the couch. She always loved it when the sun was out and I would open up the blinds."

"Yeah. I'll bet she really appreciated it."

"It just—with all the health problems she's had throughout her life I just hoped that....."

"I understand. Especially with all that she had been through for the past week." I nodded before turning back to my baby girl. I knelt down and gave her one final kiss before finally saying.

"Okay. Okay I—I think I'm ready." Then another vet tech came up and fully covered up my baby girl forever, the final step in pronouncing her dead.

"We'll get in contact with your mom about the billing. Again we're so sorry for your loss." The same vet tech that I was talking to earlier about my baby girl.

"Thank you." I said thanks the vet techs as well as the vet for all that they've done for Sassy for her last 2 weeks of life. I walked out of the back room and Mikaela came up and hugged me as we left the vet.

When I got back home I called my mom and told her that she could take care of the billing. After that I said.

"I'm sorry about all this dude I know we had plans and all but—"

"No, no, no, no it's fine. Do—you wanna call John and tell him? Or do you want me to talk for you?"

"I think I can tell him. He loved Sassy as much as I did." I picked the phone up once more and dialed the number for the farm that Deacy gave me before they left. It rang about five times before I heard a voice say.

'Hello?' Oh god why did it have to be him?

"Paul. Can I speak to John please?"

'Oh (y/n) I'm afraid he's too busy to talk right now. Since you distracted the guys they're way behind schedule with the album. They have to work twice as long just to meet the upcoming deadline.'

'Oi Prenter why are you answering the phone!? Thought I told you that you weren't allowed to take calls anymore!' Roger's loud voice proclaimed. I then heard the signs of a struggle and Paul's painful cry as Roger's voice spoke up. 'Talk to me.'

"Rog."

'(Y/n), hey what's going on?'

"Is Deacy too busy to talk?"

'Oh absolutely not, hang on a second love okay? OI DEACY!!! YOUR GIRL'S ON THE LINE COME OVER HERE!' Once again there was silence before I heard John's voice at last.

'(Y/n)? What's going on love is everything okay?' my lip quivered as I gasped out a sob. '(Y/n)? Love you're scaring me.'

"She's gone Deacy." I choked out.

'Oh my god. (N/n) I—I'm so sorry. Was she—'

"On the couch in the sun. It was almost an hour ago."

'Jesus Christ. But (y/n) you were there for her like you always said you wanted to be, and she's no longer in any pain, she's at peace. And she's up in heaven with her brother and meeting her older sister. The cat you had before you got her.'

"I know. I'm—I'm sorry I'm distracting you—"

'No, no, no, no, no, no love shhh, shhh, shshshsh. You are by no means a distraction. I'm glad you called me (y/n). I wish I could be there with you right now holding you in my arms.'

"I want that too Deacy."

'Are you going to get the pawprint?'

"Yeah, it should be ready in a day or two."

'That's good. I love you so much my brave mama cat, you know that right?'

"I love you too. I just—wish you were here John."

'I know. I wish I was there too. Is anyone with you right now?'

"Mikaela is, and I—think I'm gonna call Mary."

'That's good. Surround yourself with those two right now since they know what's happening. Do whatever you feel like you need to do right now okay?'

"I will. I do know I wanna get out of the house. I can't...I just can't be in here."

'Okay then do that. Go to Biba, the record store, see a movie, whatever. Hey, it's gonna be okay, alright?'

"Okay. I just—I miss her so much Deacy."

'I know love, I know. I miss her too. Hey listen, I gotta go, the guys are looking at me wanting to know what's going on.'

"I'll let you go then. I maybe out the whole day but I'll give you a call later tonight, okay?"

'Okay my love. I'll talk to you soon. Call me anytime.'

"I will, bye Deacy."

'Bye my love.' I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

"You sure you wanna get out of the house? It's cool if you just wanna stay here."

"No Mikaela I just—I really can't be in this house anymore. I need to get away from here for a while."

"Okay, okay. But let's get you calm down first before we head on out, okay? I'll talk to Mary this time and you just sit down and drink some water." I nodded and walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle before sitting down at the kitchen table while Mikaela made the call to Mary and explained everything.

A little while later Mikaela told me that Mary is willing to meet us at the movies since we were planning on seeing that new shark movie that was out now. After recomposing myself and drying my eyes up to show no signs that I had been crying, Mikaela and I stepped out and drove on to meet Mary at the movie theater.

The whole day was spent having a girl's day out. Mary paid for our movie tickets (we chose a later showing than originally planned due to all of this), and then Mikaela paid for our lunch. When it got close to our movie time, we all drove back to the theater (thank god it was literally just across the street) and we got our seats.

For the next 2 hours the film JAWS both terrified and had me at the edge of my seat. By the end of the film when Chief Brody shot the shark, the entire audience actually applauded. After the film, we spent the rest of the afternoon doing a little shopping to help cheer me up until it got dark and I knew I had to get back in order to feed Phoebe.

Mikaela and Mary both came back to the house with me to bid me a final goodbye and to give their final condolences on my loss today. They told me that if I ever needed to talk about today or vent, cry or hang out I could always call them. I thanked them before finally entering back inside the house.

When I got inside, the first things I had noticed was that my hall lights were on and Phoebe was currently eating at her food bowl. At that point my heart started racing a bit because my dad was still at work by now since he had requested some overtime so I know that he'd usually would be on his way home but not here, here. I then heard footsteps coming down the stairs and that's when I was shocked to see Deacy coming down the stairs.

"I thought that might've been you. Had it been your dad it would've been awkward."

"Wha—but.....how are you....."

"Before you ask any questions, how are you feeling? Truthfully?" I looked down and sniffled.

"Heartbroken. I miss her Deacy! I miss my baby so much!"

"I know, I know sweetheart. I do too." He said as he immediately embraced me and rocked me back and forth. "Sassy will forever live in your heart and in your memories, you gave her a good life till the end. And she at least passed away in a peaceful, safe environment. She knew you were there and that you took care of her right to the end."

"It all just happened so fast I mean—she was diagnosed with kidney failure just short of 2 weeks and now she—"

"Shhhh, shh I know. I know. But there was nothing you could do love, there was nothing anyone could've done. She—she was an old cat and.....it was just meant to be her time now. You wouldn't want her to keep suffering would you?"

"Never."

"Exactly, no one does. I know it's selfish but she at least died here at home. And she'll be right there with you."

"I just wish she could've stuck around longer, till I at least found a job. It's stressing enough getting no responses cause of my lack of job experiences now I just....."

"I know love. I know. But you know you've got me right? I can be your stress reliever now, hmm? What do you say?" his nose gently grazed against mine. I sniffled and looked up at him to see him softly smile down at me, his eyes softly shining with empathy.

"Thank you Deacy. I'm happy you came back for me."

"I'll always come to you whenever you need me. You're my best friend (y/n)."

"And you're mine John Deacon." For the rest of the night Deacy pampered me with a warm bath filled with my favorite bath bombs and favorite scented candles. When the bath was done, he helped me into my favorite snuggly pj's before placing me on my bed and snuggling up close to me. My head resting over his chest and his arms wrapped around me snug and tight.

His hand rubbed my back comfortingly and every now and then I felt him kiss the crown of my forehead every time I sniffled or whimpered. Even though he always said he wasn't a singer, I heard him hum the tune to our song 'you're my best friend' and all the while I kept thinking of my baby girl.

[harryandmolly]

Change of Pace - 22 (Summer 2019)

cowritten by @achinglyshawn

summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love

warnings: language

wc: 4.5k

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

Shawn and Maya text. Shawn and Maya flirt. Shawn and Maya get ice cream. Shawn watches Maya surf. Shawn and Maya kiss.

The weeks pass quickly. They don’t spend every waking moment together, and it’s nice. Maya has so much time on her hands that it feels like a burden at first. She doesn’t know what to do for a while. There are entirely too many hours in the day. She starts gardening. She surfs more. She does yoga. She paints. She cooks. She talks on the phone with her parents and friends back in Toronto. She sees Shawn a few times a week.

Slow is… kinda nice.

What Shawn and Maya haven’t done is go out publicly with people they know. They’ve spent most of their time in whatever activity they take part in talking, getting to know each other again. Bringing in other people felt unnecessary in some ways.

Maya totally forgot about the bridal shower. Her cousin Margaret is getting married this fall. She’s hosting a shower in wine country, but not with the traditional approach of inviting bridesmaids and other female friends and family of the bride. No, Margaret wanted it to be couple-friendly.

So for the first time, Maya is faced with the reality of deciding whether or not they’re ready to go away somewhere together instead of just enjoying their bubble back in Avila. When she lets herself stop and think about it, she finds that she maybe, sorta, kinda wants him there with her. With her family, with their friends. She’d really like having him at her side.

Standing barefoot in her kitchen with a cup of coffee, she chews on her lip and slides her phone out of her pocket.

Maya: Are you at the shop? Can I come see you?

Shawn: Yep

Shawn: You can always come see me, Lu.

Maya: :)

She feels a spark of excitement in her abdomen and hunts down her flip flops and car keys. On the way to the shop, with the hood down and the wind in her hair, she does something stupid. She lets herself start to picture a weekend with Shawn in Sonoma -- cool breeze in his curls as he lifts a glass of white to his lips, smiling at her with his other hand on her knee, in a nice seersucker suit surrounded by her family.

Stupid.

She shakes it off when she parks outside and heads in, hearing the little bell over the door ding when she walks in. She doesn’t see him right away and doesn’t want to startle him if he’s doing intricate work, so she makes more noise than necessary with her flip flops and clears her throat.

“Baby?”

Shawn flicks his fingers across the newly tightened strings of the Gibson standard bass he’s working on. Taut enough, but not tuned quite right. He teases the smooth pearl tuning pegs until he finds the right sound: not too sharp, not too flat. 

He almost drops the bass when Maya calls out for him. He knew she was coming, but she still manages to make his heart race when she appears. 

He carries the bass into the storefront, plucking the strings delicately in a smooth, indie jazz rhythm that matches his mellow smile. 

“Hey, Lu. How did I get lucky enough for a midday visit?” 

Maya tilts her head and smiles, shuffling toward him past a wall of gorgeous instruments. She plants a hand against his shoulder and pops up on her toes to kiss him softly.

She finds her heart is pulsing a little harder than it usually is when she drops by. She tries to ignore it. She’s being silly. It’s probably not even a good idea, given where they are.

She drops back and stuffs her hands in the pockets of her snug joggers. She nibbles on her lower lip and shrugs.

“I wanted to see you. And… well I just remembered I have to RSVP to this thing. My cousin Margaret, the really rich one that’s marrying the hedge fund manager in San Francisco, she’s having this bridal shower in Sonoma. And it’s supposed to be kind of a couples thing. I mean, not everyone there will be a couple. But, y’know… anyway, I was given a plus one so I thought I should…”

She trails off weakly and offers him a little shrug and a smile.

Shawn’s stomach twists as he sets down the bass. He wants to go. He wants to be with her in Sonoma, and he wants her to show him off to all of her friends. He wants her to introduce him as her boyfriend, because he’s pretty sure that’s what he is. For real, now.

But he had therapy this morning, and he can hear his therapist’s voice in the back of his head saying too soon, too soon, too soon. Don’t backslide now! 

Shawn clears his throat, pressing one hand to the counter as he pushes away from it. He takes a breath, then says something he really fucking hates. 

“You should probably go alone. Right?” 

Maya’s overactive heart quiets down. She sniffs and nods at her feet, flicking her head back up with a tired smile. Her unwashed hair falls limp around her cheeks. She sweeps it up behind her ears and finds the courage to speak, hoping her voice doesn’t shake.

“Yes. You’re right. Yeah, I… I should. It’s hard to explain, this thing. I mean, especially with my family there. I just wanted to run it past you, y’know, in case.”

In case what? Her mind mutters at her, In case he wanted to do something stupid and irresponsible with you?

She feels a little guilty for even asking because she made him have to say no to her. She knows how much he hates to do that. 

She lifts her eyes back to his. “Anyway, it’s next week. So… I’ll be gone for a couple days. Maybe we can spend some time together before I go?”

Shawn feels his heart break, just a little. Maya looks like a sad, rejected puppy, even though he can tell she’s trying not to.  The gentle smile she gives him is tepid, at best. He shakes his head, stepping forward so he can take her hands in his. 

His thumbs brush across the backs of her hands. He smiles. “We can spend as much time together as you want. And--” he cuts himself off to clear his throat, reaching one hand up to cup her jaw. He tilts her head back. 

“You know I want to go, right? I really-- Shit, Lu. I want to go so fucking bad. I want to spend every minute with you. But we-- I mean-- it’s better if not, right? We’ve made so much progress.” 

Maya listens to him with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and a blush in her cheeks. She places her free hand against his waist and turns her lips into his thumb. She plants a little kiss there.

“Yeah. You’re right. I mean, I know you’re right. I think for a minute I let myself believe it would be fine if we just did it. But you’re right.”

She sighs and hopes it doesn’t come off too spoiled and dramatic. She slides closer to him, taking her hand from his and shrugging her arms around his waist.

“This is all for a good cause, right?” she murmurs, turning her cheek to rest on his chest. Sometimes she needs him to remind her.

Shawn hugs her close. He hates he made her sad, even if they both know, rationally, he was never going to that shower. 

He kisses the top of her head and laughs softly, nodding so his nose brushes her hair. 

“Yeah, sugar, duh,” he kisses her head again, “The cause is you and me. In an honest, mature adult relationship. I think that’s a really good cause.” 

He hums, pulls back from her hair. “Don’t you?” 

He reassures her in a way only he can, because she knows he’s the only one that totally gets what they’re trying to do. No one else ever could. Because they’re not Shawn and Maya.

Maya strokes her fingertips up and down his back and noses against his chest. “I do. It’s the best cause.”

She just loses track of it sometimes when she misses him a little extra. The busier she’s made herself lately, the better off she’s been -- she really sees that. Her dependence from this summer is a memory now. But being close with him like this, even just this little moment, surprising him at the shop just to hold him for a while, it’s so good. She wants it more and more every day.

He’s crazily in love with her. He doesn’t know how he had the willpower to say no to her request, save perhaps for his bi-weekly therapy sessions he picked up after their summer relationship went to shit. 

He’s gotten courage, he thinks, from both Maya and therapy. And the anxiety meds he started taking after pretending he didn’t need them for so long. He gets less work done at the shop, but he gets more sleep and does better quality work than he ever has before. 

She pulls her face up to look at him with a soft smile. She pulls up onto her toes and presses loud raspberry kisses up the side of his neck to make him laugh. She leans up to his ear and whispers.

“Can I stay with you while you work a while? I brought a sketchpad to keep me busy.”

Shawn’s throaty laugh echoes through the store front. He loves her raspberries. Maybe a little too much. He turns his head and presses his lips to Maya’s cheek. 

“Pull my leg, why don’t you?” he murmurs, pushing his hands into the pockets of her joggers, curling his fingers in the fabric. He walks backwards around the counter toward his workshop, bringing her with him as he goes.

Maya and Shawn are mostly quiet that afternoon, focused and separate, but together. Maya’s snuggled up on the couch sketching, his trusty blanket resting over her legs while he sands and tunes and lacquers and hums under his breath.

That night they leave together, Shawn struggling to lock the doors one handed because she’s holding the other comfortably hostage in hers. He walks her to her car, they make out against the door until there’s nowhere left to go but under each other’s clothes. So instead they separate, pink-cheeked and satisfied.

+

Shawn misses Maya the minute she gets out of his Jeep at the airport. They text during her flight, because she’s got the money to pay for inflight WiFi, but he still misses her. 

Her absence from Avila is palpable. Even though they hadn’t been spending every second together, he can feel the heavy distance between them and almost wishes he hadn’t said no to her offer. 

He calls his therapist, just for the reassurance that they’ve made the right choice. 

Later, Shawn decides to surf. He waxes his neglected board the way Maya showed him, then spends the morning paddling through waves but never attempts to actually catch one. It’s refreshing, nonetheless, and he understands why Maya is so drawn to the water. 

He doesn’t have any texts from her when he emerges from the ocean. He ignores the disappointed drop of his stomach and trudges through the sand with his bag and his board dragging behind him. 

He gets over himself, over the brick sitting heavy in his gut, and goes to his shop to do a few orders he abandoned in favor of driving Maya to airport. A little less lovesick, he falls into the easy rhythm of work and finds the patience he needs to forget his phone exists. 

Maya stands just inside the door to the terrace, hidden from view. She chews on the inside of her lips and rolls her ankles carefully in her strappy sandals. She fidgets openly, flinching as cater waiters pass her with trays of expensive hors d'oeuvres meant for her family. 

Maya hasn’t seen her parents, aunts, uncles or cousins since last Christmas when she took two days off by company mandate and flew to Toronto to see her family. Her parents carefully and quietly spread the word about her change of coastline and the circumstances around it, which means her whole family will be walking on eggshells around her like she’s mid-breakdown.

There will be questions. Why Avila? Why not go home to Toronto? Why leave Manhattan at all, didn’t you have friends, a whole life? Are you seeing anyone?

That one’s the hardest to answer in some ways.

Maya lifts a hand to her hair, a half up, half down braided situation that she saw on Pinterest. Her floral dress flutters around her legs. She wishes he were here to hold her hand and remind her what’s important.

She closes her eyes and imagines what he might be doing now at home without her.

She opens them and steps out onto the terrace to face the music. 

+

“... and they’re spending the summers in Southampton now, did you hear?”

Maya nods and smiles weakly. All the Manhattan finance shop talk is draining. Everyone around her talks about it like she’s still interested, like she’s been sitting around her cottage wishing she knew what her old coworkers were up to. 

She hasn’t.

But Margaret’s fiance Peter is also a finance guy so she’s entrenched in the world once again. She listens politely and offers quiet commentary. Her half-hearted attention doesn’t go unnoticed. Her cousin’s friends look on at her sadly, like she’s acting this way out of regret. She’d love to tell them to go fuck themselves, that her life in Avila is more satisfying than they can even imagine.

And it is. This is the most people Maya’s been around at once this summer. She’s spent a lot of time alone relearning herself. Through surfing and art primarily, she’s not a stranger to herself anymore. 

And then there’s Shawn.

By the time Shawn finishes at the shop, the sun has set and he’s itching to see Maya. He can’t, so he texts her as he’s locking up the shop, instead. 

Shawn: Hey sugar, how’s SF?

She slides her phone out of her clutch and steps back out of the circle abruptly to look through it. She ignores the sidelong glances at her rude gesture. She smiles at Shawn’s text.

Maya: pretty. Not as pretty as Avila. Missing you.

It’s an understatement.

Shawn doesn’t expect a reply. His phone buzzes in his back pocket while he walks home, and he nearly jumps out of his skin to get it. 

His heart lurches in his throat. She misses him. He figured maybe she did, but he tries not to assume. He’s also thinks she doesn’t miss him quite as much as he misses her— but again, he doesn’t want to assume. 

Shawn: Already?

Shawn: I think I started missing u even before you left 

Shawn: shit that was pretty cheesy wasn’t it?

Shawn rolls his eyes at himself, shoves his phone back in his pocket and fishes out the key to his front door. He likes to pretend he’s not still an idiot around her, but then he types something like that and sends it without thinking. 

She probably sees through him easily.

Her mom appears at her elbow with a quirked eyebrow. “Who are you texting?”

Her phone buzzes three times in quick succession in her hand. She blinks, looking down at her phone but not focusing on the messages.

“Shawn,” she murmurs. She lifts her eyes to her mother carefully. After a beat of mental searching, her mom’s eyes widen a bit.

“Shawn? Like, the one that got away Shawn?” Margaret nearly yelps. When Maya looks over, the circle of privileged thirty-somethings are all staring at her curiously.

She quirks a smile. “Yeah. Turns out… I guess he moved to Avila after he left LA. I ran into him earlier this summer.”

“Are you seeing each other?” her mother probes cautiously.

Maya wets her lips, hesitates, and nods. Margaret titters excitedly from the side, filling in some of her friends who aren’t caught up.

Her mother looks oddly pleased. Maya knew she always liked Shawn but assumed she’d have some hesitation about them now given how long it’s been and all that’s happened.

Maya’s mother hums and lifts her glass of champagne to her lips. “Well I’ll be damned. I guess love really does conquer all.”

She wanders away. Margaret and her group have lost interest. Maya is left with the weight of what her mother said. After a few seconds, she swipes open her phone.

Maya: yes. But I like your cheese. It’s… well aged.

She knows he loves when she plays along with his cheesiness via dumb jokes.

Maya: my mom says hi

He doesn’t have to wait long for the next reply from Maya. He stands in the middle of his lonely bedroom and decides to shed his gloss-covered work clothes before letting himself look.

The seconds go by and Shawn counts each one, each second he wastes so it doesn’t seem like he’s clinging to his phone, waiting for her.

He’s trying to teach himself how to be okay without her. He knew how to do it, once before. Things are different now though. 

He takes a breath, naked save for the black briefs that cling to his hips and stretch across his aching thighs. He squats too much at work. He should invest in a shorter work stool. 

He decides his needs to lie down.

Draped comfortably across his bed, Shawn finally allows himself to fetch his phone from the bedside table. 

Shawn: hey! you’re cheesy too 

Shawn: and she does? 

Shawn: are u sure she remembers me? 

Maya snags a petit four off a passing waiter’s plate. She gives it a squeeze and soft raspberry jam starts spilling out the side. She pops it in her mouth and sucks on her fingertips, smiling as she stares at her phone like a teenager. She doesn’t notice her parents whispering and chuckling to themselves in the corner, watching her.

Maya: she definitely does

Maya: Margaret just referred to you openly as “the one that got away”

Maya: not anymore I guess. I reeled you back in

She gathers when called. The bride and groom are starting to open gifts. With Shawn’s help, she chose a gorgeous set of steak knives off their registry. 

Shawn blushes like a teen girl as he reads Maya’s texts. He’d always thought her mum liked him. The years haven’t lessened that, it seems. He feels lucky, so fucking lucky that he didn’t romanticize everything good about their old relationship. 

Shifting on the bed, he settles deeper into his pillows. His fingers click away on his phone. 

Shawn: shit

Shawn: you did you sneak

Shawn: also I think ur officially way cheesier than I am 

A thought occurs to him. He frowns.

Shawn: is she pissed I didn’t come? was that rude? 

Maya watches curiously as Margaret and Peter collect thousands and thousands of dollars of gifts. They look happy. Not just getting presents happy, but really happy. They look content, like as long as one is close to the other, they’re ok.

She swallows and thinks of Shawn again.

She tunes back into her family and tries to focus on them. The truth is, she really has missed them, even the crazy ones. When she was in Manhattan, she hardly ever saw her parents. And Margaret and Peter, who live in Manhattan, were a three-times-per-year event. They never gave her shit for it, no one ever told her she was being selfish. They accepted her and her drive and her goals.

It’s all different now.

She looks back down at her phone.

Maya: Not at all. She didn’t know I was seeing you again until I just told her. And I told her we’re taking it… slow.

Slow. How do you know when slow is supposed to kick up speed a little? How is that measured? Is there a time frame? Stats? A chart of some kind?

All she knows is she misses him. It’s not a desperate feeling, she’s not aching or on the verge of tears, she just feels far from him. A little cold, a little distant, a little quiet.

She misses him.

Shawn sits up. They are taking it slow. They’re taking it slow and he’s sitting home alone, waiting around for texts from her like a lovesick puppy. He’s pretty sure this isn’t how his therapist would want him to cope. 

He decides to go to dinner, maybe have some drinks and play a set at The Sand Trap. Not that he doesn’t want to be texting Maya, but he doesn’t want to continue being his own person in her absence. 

That’s what grown ups do.

He texts her before he heads out. 

Shawn: okay. as long as your friends and family don’t think I’m a total dick

He sits at the wheel of his Jeep. Texts her again. 

Shawn: i think I’m gonna premiere a new song tonight

He wasn’t planning on it, but he thinks he will. She’s heard bits and pieces of his new song, but he hasn’t felt comfortable enough with it to play the whole thing for her. Shawn thinks, perhaps, a dry run in front of a room full of strangers who don’t mean the works to him might help. 

Maya’s eyes bug. The dinner has started but she took a moment to glance at her phone before the salads arrive. She thumbs through Shawn’s text, sure she read it wrong.

Maya: seriously?? Can’t believe i’m missing that. 

She wonders which song it is. Is it the one she’s heard part of? She doesn’t know what it’s about, but it sounds good. She sighs.

Maya: I’m super proud of you. You’re gonna be wonderful

Shawn feels only a little bad. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it, should’ve tested it out in secret so she wouldn’t know she’s missing anything. Guilt lingers in his stomach, but he knows doing this is good for his independence. 

Which, ultimately, is good for them. 

Shawn: it’s only for practice

Shawn: so I can get used to it, relax before I play it for you

He wants it to be perfect for her, but perfect is a lofty, unnecessary goal. He knows she’ll love it either way. 

But still, he texts her again. 

Shawn: just want it to be the best it can be before you hear it 

Dessert comes before Maya checks her phone again. She’s a few glasses of wine in and blushing over the idea that Shawn wants to practice a new song in front of a crowd of strangers before the main event, singing it for her. She knows that’s backwards. She loves it.

Maya: I love--

Maya stops. Her thumbs drop heavy onto her phone. Her heart rate rises.

She started to type “I love you for that.”

She didn’t stop because it’s not true. She stopped because that’s not how she wants to say it again after all this time. She wants to say it for real, unequivocally, to his face.

Because she does love him.

Maya: I love that. Have fun tonight <3 see you soon

Shawn’s settling into a burger when his phone buzzes again. Despite the urge, he doesn’t drop his burger in favor of checking it. He takes a hearty bite, let’s himself enjoy it before wiping grease from his fingers and carefully lifting his phone. 

It’s seems like a sign off text from her. He only lets himself be a little disappointed. The stage is his at 9:30, so he’s got a schedule to stick to. It’s probably best he not be distracted by flirting with Maya all night. 

He sends her one last text anyway, though. Just because he can. Because she sent him a little heart emoji and she knows he’s a sucker for that. 

Shawn: same to you, sugar

Shawn: text me when you get to your hotel room 

Shawn: just so i know you’re safe and all 

He tucks his phone into his pocket, then tucks back into his burger.

+

Maya’s night ends after the dinner. She crawls into bed with a smile and watches “The Other Woman,” not because she can’t fall asleep without it, but because she misses it.

+

Brunch is a parade of wide-brimmed hats and expensive sundresses. Maya is seated next to her mother Wendy beside a column of wisteria, sipping mimosas.

Wendy takes Maya’s hand and holds it in her lap. “Missed you, little girl.”

Maya smiles a little wistfully. “I missed you too, mama. But I’ll be coming back to Toronto more often now that I’m not working.”

Wendy’s smile is wise and comforting. “I’ll be very happy about that, but that’s not what I meant. I meant… I missed you. You, my Maya. I missed the stories you tell when you’re not living out 80 hour weeks in an office just to survive. I missed the way you always have paint under your fingernails. I missed the way you correct my posture and tell me to do more yoga.”

Maya chews the inside of her lip. Her eyes well a little. She nods carefully.

“I was gone for awhile. I think… I think I’m back now.”

Wendy bobs her head. “You know, it was always ok with me, whoever and whatever you wanted to be. I never complained about your job. I thought for awhile it was what you really wanted. You threw yourself into it with such passion and drive. But it burned you out so fast.”

“I was so scared to try to be the thing I always was. To be the best version. It seemed so much easier to be something I knew I could be good at just because I’m smart and I’m tough. I think I really did like it for a time. But it’s not who I am,” Maya says quietly.

Wendy smiles and cups her daughter’s cheek. “Who you are is everything to me.”

Maya closes her eyes. She leans into her mother’s hand.

“Are you going to let him take care of you?” Wendy whispers.

Maya’s eyes flutter open. Her mother’s smile has turned a little mischievous.

“Shawn?”

Wendy nods. “I think that’s all he’s ever really wanted to do. You always took such good care of him. You weren’t as good at letting him care for you. I think you should work on that.”

Maya’s throat clenches. Moms know everything. She sighs from deep in her chest.

“I’m gonna do my best.”

“That’s all you’ve ever needed to do, baby.”

--------

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone  @randi-eve​ @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire​ @itrocksmysocks​ @parkerspicedlatte​ @simpledomain​ @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day​ @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280​ @bensbuttercup​ @shawnsmusical​ @paigeasourous​ @tell-me-when-ur-ready​ @softmendesss​ @searchingunderthestars​ @buggy-blogs​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @siennarossi​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @umbreakablesoul​ @sleepybesson​ @shawnsheaven @desire-to-live​ @jillian-nd​ @shawnwyr​ @curlsofshawn​ @graysonmendes​ @tnhmblive​ @meltingicequeen

[savysavannah]

Savannah Finds a Baby:

The girls and I jumped up and down in our skimpy swimsuits, a little sudsy from the carwash. We'd spent the day doing our sororities charity event for the semester, a car wash where all the profits go to a women's shelter. My best friend Eimear and I had found the shelter and the president Elle had picked the event. In all honesty, it was a lot more work than I'd thought it'd been. The movies made it look so sexy and easy to do. But by now I was beat. My boyfriend Chad and I were supposed to go out to dinner then out to a party but I really just wanted a nap. 

Pulling out my phone I dialed his number and waited. It went straight to voice mail. 

With a small sigh I tapped my flip flop on the wet parking lot and waited for the beep, 

"Hey babes, don't think I'm gonna make it tonight. I'm just really worn from the car wash. You should still go and have fun at the party though! Loves ya."

Sighing again I walked to the sorority house where a few of the girls were still hanging out in the entryway ready to go. 

"Savy, thought you were going out with your boo tonight?" Marissa asked. 

"I'm surprised you girls are going out. After all that cleaning I'm so tired. Might sleep all day tomorrow too to make up for it." I joked. 

"Oh well, if you're serious leave your paper for Professor Hidgens on your desk. I'll grab it tomorrow on my way out." Eimear offered, she was my roommate so it's not like she'd bother me getting up.

My face paled. "Fuck." 

"You forgot about it didn't you." She asked and raised an eyebrow. 

"Absolutely did." I was already panicking. What were we studying again? Something about the founding of Illea? The fall of America? Where did the chinese come into play again???? 

"Don't worry. It's pretty fact based instead of opinion. Borrow my laptop, my essays on the desktop just change it up a bit." Eimear offered and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she and Marissa headed out past me. 

"Thank you!" I yelled back at her before dashing up to our room to get her laptop. I'd used it a few times to edit her papers or in cases like this, so I already knew the password. 

Sitting in bed I began to read through her essay, now on my laptop, but felt my eyes drifting closed. 

"Fuck." I sighed and got up. After stretching I realized this was gonna take more than just a bit of movement. Stuck my laptop and charger in a tote, slipped on some pants over my bikini bottoms and some sandals then was on the move to starbucks. 

The sun set as I typed away making edits here and there and sipping on my venti mocha coffee with three shots of esspresso. It wasn't till I felt a small hand on my pant leg that I snapped out of my work. 

I looked down to see a small child, I mean I think small? I don't really know children? Maybe three or four. Staring up at me from under the starbucks table. 

Panicking I looked around but I didn't really see any adult looking figures around. The child began to cry on my leg wailing, I got some looks like I was some slut at the starbucks who got knocked up at 19 and now had a wailing toddler. I guess I wasn't really wearing a full shirt. Quickly I stuffed my bag to leave. 

But as I stood I realized I couldn't just leave the toddler at starbucks. Don't I have some kind of ethical duty here?

I picked up the child, holding it at arm length to avoid it touching my face. Who knows where those hands have been. Probably covered in slobber. 

Carrying the child to the starbucks counter I held it out. "I found this." 

I presented the child to the minimum wage teenage worker. He stared at me puzzled for a moment. Then looked around, 

"Did you see her with anyone?" He asked. 

"Uh, I don't think so? It just appeared?" 

He kinda snorted, "kids don't really 'just appear. It had to get in here somehow with someone?" He suggested. 

"Look, I was busy, suddenly there was a kid at my feet that's all I know." I held the kid out to the worker again hoping he'd take it off my hands and put it somewhere else. 

He seemed offended. "I don't know what to do with it?" 

Suddenly it looked as if a manager was coming. "What's going on?" 

"Some lady found a kid." He shrugged. 

"Found how? Like adopted?"

"No, I mean I found a kid in your store. It just walked up to me or toddled or something and started crying. Isn't mine." 

The manager thought for a moment. "And you didn't see a parent with her?" 

"If I saw a parent I wouldn't be holding it." 

Again the manager pondered. "We'll call the non emergency police and file a report." The manager said. 

I hung around with the baby, the manager, and the employee as we waited. The store had closed so it was quiet and someone had to watch the baby while the workers closed. So I was left with it- I mean her, sitting on the counter waiting. 

"Sooo, you like coffee?" I asked and we sat in silence. 

"You probably shouldn't have coffee, stunts your growth." I mumbled and looked up at the fans in the shop. Suddenly a woman rushed up to the shop door and banged on it. I walked over and she pointed to the baby on the counter. 

"Hey! Either the moms here or a child trafficker!" I yelled back, hopefully to the manager. 

"Let her in and wait for the police!" He yelled back. 

What was I somehow his employee now too? I turned the lock and let her in. She rushed over to the baby and hugged her tightly. "Oh thank god!" She yelled. 

"How do you lose a baby?" I asked and walked over to the mom and baby to get my tote bag. 

She glared down at me. "Don't you speak to me like that! You have no idea the kind of day I've had! You're lucky I'm feeling generous or I'd have you reported for kidnapping!" She yelled. The manager rushed out to deal with her as the police came up. 

"Well, that seems like my queue." I mumbled and tried my best to leave the Karen and her baby to the police and the manager. Gave the baby a little nod goodbye. She smiled, figured that was confirmation of her approval and headed back to the sorority house. Paper complete. 

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 26--Break

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo and Demyx try to come to terms with their broken soulbond. Ienzo helps Ansem rebuild their shattered kingdom.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Even just held his palm over Demyx’s chest for a long time. “I’d thought--something felt off--but back when you were injured, I was…” He swallowed. “Perhaps a bit compromised--”

“Is it possible?” Ienzo asked. He was feeling weak, and his legs were aching. His own chest felt heavy. He wondered if this was what heartbreak felt like.

“Is it possible ? Yes. Is it easy? No. Doubtless he used darkness to sever that bond. No wonder your attack was so powerful, Ienzo, and sent you right into shock.”

“So it’s… true?” Demyx sounded like he’d been punched in the groin. “We’re really…”

He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“But what about pairbonding?” Ienzo asked quickly. “If we are on some level intrinsically compatible, couldn’t we reestablish that bond in some small way? Choose it?”

“I suppose you… could,” Even said.

“Can it be fixed?” Demyx asked.

“It could only be fixed by whoever bound you… and the seeker colony in Destiny Islands is more or less eradicated.”

“What of my magic?” Ienzo asked. Yet again, he felt near tears. He didn’t think he’d ever cried so much. “If I am supposedly so powerful--”

Even’s eyes were very tired. “I suppose with your power--at its peak--it’s theoretically possible. But it’s not at its peak, Ienzo. Can you even feel it, after what happened?”

“...Scarcely.”

“What do we…” Demyx was gasping. “What do we do?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.” It seemed to pain him to admit. “Perhaps you could work on this pairbond? Perhaps? There’s no spell or procedure I know that can fix this.”

Demyx just stared at Ienzo a long time. Wordlessly, he got up and left the room. Ienzo went to follow, but Even just took his hand.

“Let him,” he said. “He needs to grieve.”

“I feel such… pain,” Ienzo said. “Such…”

“Lie here.” He did so and felt Even probe him. “...Sadist,” he muttered.

“What?”

“He broke the bond on one end only.”

“Solely to cause me pain?”

“Quite.”

“But if I still have it…” His own breaths were coming hard and fast. “Can I… could it…”

“Reform? Ienzo, I have no idea. This is so far out of my depths I’m speculating.” He squeezed Ienzo’s shoulder. “You need time.”

“I feel like I’m bleeding.”

“I know, child.” He drew him into an embrace. “I know.”

To his surprise, Demyx was actually in with Amalia when he left Even’s lab. He was singing to her softly in that old language again, and she was clapping her hands and squealing with delight. If Ienzo had not been in so much pain, he would’ve garnered some pleasure from the grin she gave him when she saw him. She reached up to him.

“She wants you,” Demyx said numbly. Ienzo scooped her into his arms. He was still physically weak; it took work to pretend that picking her up didn’t tire him.

“Dad is giving you a concert, huh?” he asked. She just reached up to put her hands on his face.

“Noses are her new favorite thing,” he said, turning away to pick up toys off of the floor.

“I know, Demyx. I was here when that started.”

He jerked a little. “Right… I forgot. Still kinda stuck in single dad mode.”

“I suppose you must be.” Amalia babbled happily. “Do you want to see the gardens? Go outside?” She laughed. “How are you feeling?”

“Me?” His eyes were red. “Oh, you know.” His expression said as if I would answer in front of the baby.

“Perhaps you would want to… have some dinner later?”

He hesitated. “Okay. Just tell them to give her plastic this time, or maybe not anything glass they care about.”

He tried not to let his pain show. “...Alright.”

---

Ienzo thought he might be losing his mind. He knew giving into this heartbreak was exactly what Xehanort would’ve wanted, but it wasn’t like he could help it. Every time he saw Demyx he thought he might scream. Keeping something resembling peace between them for their daughter’s sake made it all the harder. Ienzo knew that as a seeker this was hitting doubly hard for him, but at the same time, was there really so little between them without the soulbond to justify this?

Ienzo began sleeping on the chaise in the drawing room near his daughter’s crib. He was not asked to do it, but sharing such a cold bed only made it harder. It wasn’t as though he slept well lately anyway. Demyx didn’t comment on it. Ienzo noticed he had stopped singing.

How could he begin to fix this?

Despite it all, there was still massive national upheaval. So Ienzo devoted himself to the care of Amalia and to his work.

The west coast was still giving them the most trouble. Pockets of Xehanort’s supporters--the ones who had helped the spread of his regime in the first place--held their towns hostage. The negotiations were complicated, and messy, and while Ienzo wanted nothing more for them to be judged for their heinous crimes, Ansem advocated leniency of all things. “If we jail them, they’ll just make it worse for their citizens,” he said. “The people’s safety is more important.”

“But if we let them off now there will never be a case in the future.” The courts, too, were still in shambles.

“You must learn compromise, Ienzo,” Ansem said gently.

Ienzo just stared at the sea of papers on the table where they were working. “After all these years… all the studies Even forced on me… I feel like I truly know nothing about becoming king.”

Ansem reached over and rubbed his shoulder. “You could have all the preparation in the world and you’d still feel naked,” he told him. “I did.”

“You did? But you’re so… well, wise.”

He chuckled. “Child, I was the “spare” in the “heir and a spare.” I did not anticipate ever having to go into politics, more than showing up to silly royal functions--that was all on your mother. So our mother let me go into my science, into my research, then all of a sudden one day I’m receiving a call that suddenly… I have been… ascended. ” He said the word bitterly. “I felt just as you do now. Helpless. Stupid. Ignorant.”

“How did you know I feel all those things?”

“It’s on your face.” He smiled. “I will help you, Ienzo. I’m not going to throw you to the wolves. We will rebuild together, which may take years. Once things have settled… we can revisit the matter as to whether or not you’re ready to rule independently.”

His eyes were hot from looking at so much paper. “Is it bad to say I did not think I’d ever get here? I always thought… I’d be running forever… I never envisioned a future for myself, much less my people. I never thought I'd actually live to rule.”

“A trauma response, doubtless.”

“You think I’m traumatized?”

“Surely you didn’t think such a life was mentally good for you? Living in the moment was the only way to cope.”

“I still don’t feel safe.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

There was a long pause. Ansem got up and turned on the electric kettle. “It is nice, to be together again,” Ienzo admitted. “Were I alone… I don’t think I could cope.”

Ansem handed him a cup of tea. “Connection is imperative.”

“...Yes.” He tried not to think of Demyx. He felt his nails digging into his palms. “Father, I…”

“It’s alright, Ienzo. You must grieve.” A substantial pause. “But with pain comes vulnerability, which might be useful. I was wondering…”

“What?”

“...If it might be time to reintroduce you to the people. The real you, not the mask you put on for Xehanort. You… and your daughter.”

Ienzo swallowed. “I looked like a traitor.”

“You were a captive doing your best to subvert an entire regime , which you did. Besides. I think the presence of your child… will make you look paternal. Trustworthy.”

“There’s so much we haven’t spoken about,” he murmured. “My time as a captive… my child… all this… this guilt I feel… the fact that I’ve taken human lives… I…”

“It’s alright to be upset.”

“My emotions are so close to my skin.”

“I’d be shocked if they weren’t.”

Ienzo shuddered. “And it feels strange to cry in front of you.”

He hugged him. “It’s alright, Ienzo. Best to do so rather than hold it all in.”

So he did. He felt like a child, but all the pain inside of him needed out somehow. Who else was he comfortable in front of? Not Demyx, surely, and Even was struggling with his own issues.

He wasn’t sure he felt better afterwards. He just felt exhausted. Ansem offered him a tissue. “I’m told Remy was able to recreate the sea salt ice cream you loved as a boy. Perhaps you might like to have some.”

“I think I need it, yes.”

---

Ienzo dangled Ansem’s proposal in front of Demyx, tentatively. “It was to happen eventually anyway, given her status,” he said. He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact.

“...She’s only eight months old,” he said.

“It’s not like she’d have any duties. That is to say--”

“It’s to clear your name.”

“...As I am to be king, you have to admit it’s important.”

“...I dunno. Seems like you made your bed on that one.”

He’d had about enough. “What was I do to, then?” he snapped. “Fight and fight and fight and what, get killed? All that would’ve meant is Xehanort would still be here, still quite literally killing the earth, and Amalia would’ve grown up without me. I am doing my best, Demyx. I am. She is my child too. And sometimes I am allowed to make decisions on her behalf.”

Amalia seemed confused at the razors in his voice. She gasped once and started to cry. “You’re upsetting her,” Demyx said. “She’s not used to people--” His face flushed. Then, “What are we going to do, Ienzo?”

“What do you mean?”

“Us. With her.”

For a moment, Ienzo thought he might faint. “Do you really think there’s nothing salvageable?” he asked in a strangled voice. “Do you really think it’s not worth trying --”

“I don’t know. ” He was shaking. “All I know is that a huge part of me is fucking dead. And I just… wonder…” He took a shuddering breath. “I lost everything. My family, my memories, my friends, and now you?”

“...I know. I know that. Did you forget I did too?”

Silence. Amalia was still crying, more quietly. Ienzo scooped her up and kissed her brow.

“I was in hiding for twelve years before I met you. I know how you feel, Demyx. I do. I can’t pretend to understand how this affects your magic. I just know that… squabbling about all this isn’t going to help anything. I still…” He swallowed. “I still love you. And I understand if you can’t find that love within you. But for our daughter…” Diplomacy. Diplomacy. “Can we please at least be friendly? Come to agreements?”

He was breathing hard. “I was alone for so long.”

“I know.”

“We were supposed to be happy.”

“I know.”

“Is this… ever going to end?”

Ienzo stroked Amalia’s hair. “Consider this,” he said softly. “By giving into this despair, we’re just giving Xehanort more power. By not fighting for one another, we’re letting him win. He wanted to divide us.”

Demyx’s eyes were watering.

“...I’m going to give her a bath. Let me know if you’d like to talk more about this. I certainly would.”

Once he had Amalia in the water, he couldn’t help but shed a few more tears of his own, feeling weak. She reached up with her wet little hands. “Ba,” she said, confused.

“I’m sorry for fighting in front of you, love. That wasn’t right. It won’t happen again.”

“Mm,” she said. He poured a cupful of water over her.

“Was what you told me right? Is this all going to work out?”

She cocked her head, her wet curls swaying slightly.

“...Perhaps you might like me to read you The Great Escape again before bed?”

She squealed. “Ba! Ba!”

“...Book. Very good.”

She picked at her navel. Ienzo found himself oddly envious of simpler times. This is not good for my mental state, he thought. Perhaps I should seek therapy as well. She made an odd face, and then shrugged her tiny shoulders.

“Are you itchy again?” He reached behind her to give her back a good scratch along the scales, in inverse Ls on her shoulder blades. She sighed. “Yes, feels better, doesn’t it?”

She opened her eyes wide. For a moment Ienzo was convinced she was seeing into him, and he felt dizzy. She reached up to touch his face, her small wet palm catching in his hair and pressing against his blind eye.

“Don’t poke people’s eyes, sweetie, it’s not ni…” A very, very odd feeling rushed over him, a vertigo, a prickling in his being. Everything inside of him went limp, and he collapsed.

[marvel-lucy]

The Walking Disaster, chapter 4

All chapters are on the Walking Disaster Masterlist ...

As always, I’m writing this too fast, not editing, and not paying attention to anything, so it’s not good. Definitely writing as distraction to myself rather than quality at the moment, sorry x

I have successfully avoided Steve for nearly two weeks now. According to Nat, I should own up to my failings and sucker punch anyone who dares to laugh at me, but it’s not really my way, so instead I’ve turned on stealth mode.  I stand behind my door, squinting through the eyehole to check the coast is clear, then I’m out, down the stairs and outside on my way to work in seconds flat. I haven’t tripped once so far. I collect my post at 2am, and I don’t buy coffee out. I don’t even order pizza to be delivered, in case I open my door at the same time as Steve. I’m cooking instead. Two of my fingers are currently bandaged, and I may have lost part of an eyebrow, but it’s OK, I cut myself bangs to hide it. Then I wore a cap to hide the bangs….

Anyway. The point is, I don’t know why it’s got to me. Well, I do.  I’ve lived in this small circle of friends for so long now, and they accept my calamities.  They know that for every time I trip over and break something (cup, TV, bone) I’ll pick them up if they’ve got a broken heart. For every time I spill something on myself, I’ll let them spill their secrets on me and I won’t tell (my own, I’m not so good at keeping). For every bit of rambling nonsense I blurt out, there’s a good heart behind it. Ah, maybe I’m talking myself up too much, but what I’m trying to get at is that they accept me for being a bit of a disaster area, and that’s nice.  But now there’s these new people in the mix, and… I want them to accept me. No, that’s a lie. I don’t want to be tolerated, and be an amusement that’s accepted. I want them to like me. To think I’m cool and beautiful and smart and fun. And I can’t do that with a purple bruise on my forehead, or the inability to pass a field sobriety test when sober (don’t ask. It’s another thing).  So I’m avoiding Steve. In the hope that – I don’t know. That in the next two weeks I suddenly stop walking like a new-born giraffe? That he gets his memory wiped in some horrific accident and doesn’t remember the sight of me upside down over a box, or walking into a door, or spraying coffee on my far-more-attractive best friend?  I don’t know, why are you expecting logic. You’re my internal monologue, you should know better.

Nat’s currently being my spy. She’s great at this. She and Bucky hit it off after the coffee shop meeting (and while they all waited in the ER waiting room for me to be cleared of concussion). Swapped numbers, and they’ve met up twice – once for coffee (without me there, so it was a lot cleaner) and then for dinner and a movie. She came round after the coffee, and before the dinner, to fill me in. They’ve been texting apparently and sometimes she sends me screenshots. It’s all very sweet and sickening and normal. I want sickening and normal. Ugh.  While she’s snuggling up to Bucky, she’s also sounding him out about Steve. He’s single apparently, is very sweet and respectful, and a bit of a knight in shining armour. He’s also, according to Bucky, a jerk, reckless, and the world’s expert in waiting too long for love. None of this makes my crush any less soul-destroying. I feel like I’ve had a building dropped on me.

So that’s why it’s Saturday night, and Nat is out with Bucky again, and I’m sitting by my open window, staring at the skyline and indulging in some major self-pity.  At least I have company tonight.  Not human company, everyone I know is out actually living their lives instead of burying themselves for shame, but the apartment cat has decided to visit.  She belongs to the super, but she obviously sees the building as her own, so if the window’s open, she’s up and down the fire escape and sniffing around to see what there is to eat.

I’ve given her some tuna, even though she’s too tubby, just so she’ll sit and I can talk out loud for a change. She’s got tuna, and I’ve got wine. Or I did. The bottle seems to be surprisingly empty, so I can only assume the cat’s helped herself while I wasn’t looking. Only possible explanation.

So here I sit, less than sober, let’s say. Cat is on a cushion next to me purring, and I’m leaning out the window listening to the sounds of the city and blathering on about my failings and my crush. I’m all why can’t I be normal and cool like Nat? and nobody likes me the way they like Nat and he’s so hot and all muscly and has lovely eyes.  You know, eloquent. Anyway, the cat’s obviously had enough of it after the first hour or so, because she gets up and looks at me with disgust, then hops out the window onto the fire escape. She never even said thank you for the wine.

I’m kinda hanging out the window, rubbing my fingers together and doing that ‘pss pss’ thing that people do so cats can ignore them, and she walks away. She walks along the short length of fire escape that separates my window from apartment number four. That separates my window from only the window of Steve flaming Rogers, and then. She. Walks. In.

I swear she looks back at me before she jumps down, and winks, but anyway, she walks into his open window that is about three feet from my open window. The window I’ve been baring my soul through, at an alcohol-enhanced volume.

Oh sweet Jesus, let me die now.  I can feel cold sweat trickling down my back, and my spine is tingling as embarrassment runs up and down it.  Maybe he left his window open before going out on a date with some beautiful woman. I mean, Bucky said he’s reckless. Leaving your window open in New York is pretty reckless. Maybe he’s eaten something really bad and spent the whole evening in the bathroom. That’d be good, right? Not so much for him, but for me. Maybe he’s secretly deaf and has been doing some amazing lip reading this whole time. Work with me here, make me feel better.

As quietly as I can, I close my window and walk to my bedroom. Then I lie down, pull the duvet right over my head, and scream.

So here’s the thing. I love the city at night. I know that orange glow from street lights is just light pollution, and the sound of police sirens is probably a bad thing, but it just feels cool. Like I’m living in some movie. So I like to sit by the window on warm nights and soak it in. I love the feeling of breathing in that sun-dusty evening air. I had bad asthma as a kid and there’s still a pleasure in taking a big breath in. Saturday nights are good for me, I’ve relaxed from the previous week’s work, but I don’t have to gear up for next week yet, so it’s the sweet spot where I can be me.

According to Bucky, I should be out clubbing, drinking, meeting women, but I’ve never been that guy. I’m waiting for the right partner, and I’m just not ready for what Bucky gets up to. Not that he seems to these days. This Nat seems to have got to him. Can’t say I blame him, she seems nice, and she’s pretty, but she’s a bit too perfect. Seems to have a lot of walls in place so you don’t know if you’re seeing the real her. Bucky’s having fun, but I want real… I want someone who’s just themselves, even if that’s not perfect. God knows, I’m not perfect, but I try to be a good man, and I just want someone to make me smile.

Sheesh listen to me. This is why right now Bucky is out with Nat, and has just sent me a blurry picture in a text that could either be him dancing, or doing something I don’t need to see. And me, I’m sitting here, wrapped in a blanket like I’m 95, and sketching by the window.  I’m also quite far down some beer that I forgot I had, and I can’t quite make out the number of bottles on the floor, but it’s more than one, and they’re mostly empty. I don’t get tipsy easy, but these ones must be stronger than normal, because I’m losing track of time, and the world’s a bit blurry and I’m half-asleep when a sound snaps me back to myself. It’s a voice from next door. THE voice from next door. The one I’ve found myself thinking of, and unable to think of an excuse to hear it.

And then my brain tunes into the words, and I could kick myself.

‘Ugh, Cat, why can’t I be like Natasha, then he’d like me…’ and ‘ I’m a walking disaster, nobody wants that, that’s why people want Nat’ and ‘God those muscles of his kill me. Can you imagine, Cat… hey, where are you going, psss, pssss’.

Then this cat appears, walks in, knocking over a bottle that slowly trickles beer across the floor, then stands on my leg, looking at me pointedly. That’s when I look down and realise what I’ve been doodling in my sketchbook while half-drunk.

Her.

Apartment 3.

There’s a picture of her the first time I saw her, lying on the floor, with her hair all spread out like a mermaid. If mermaids lived on land and had big streaks of dust on their faces.  Her eyes were all shiny then, then she got this beautiful flush that made me think all kinds of things my Mom wouldn’t approve of.

Then there’s a picture of her with a bag of groceries in her arms, which made me feel all old-school manly and protective, like I wanted to say ‘allow me, ma’am’ and carry things for her. Maybe she’d even hang on my arm and tell me I was a proper gent for that.

Ahem. There’s a picture of her when her skirt was all caught up, and I swear, I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t work out how to say it without it sounding really inappropriate, so I was just about to call out something when Bucky clamped his hand over my mouth and pulled me outside.  Still, this one’s giving me less than gentlemanly thoughts.

I haven’t sketched the time my knee kept bumping into hers under a table, while she chatted, and I swear I could have stayed there for hours because she just lit up when she was talking. There’s no sketch of when she walked into the door and I ended up half-carrying her to the ER because she said she kept seeing stars, and she was just so warm.  

Yeah, I’ve got to admit it, this is why I didn’t go out with Bucky, or anyone else.  I haven’t seen her in two weeks and I really just wanted to hang around in case I did, because she’s adorable.

But, here’s the killer. As always, she’s taken with Bucky. I swear it’s been the same since we were kids, even when he set us up on double dates, they were both there for him, and I was this asthmatic hanger-on.  She’s next door mooning over wanting to be Nat so she could be with Bucky, and how great he is.

I need to get some air. The apartment feels too small now, like I’ve suddenly grown two foot in the last five minutes. I shove my feet into some shoes, and grab up my keys.

Lying under a duvet is pretty boring after the first scream. It’s also too hot, so I crawl myself out after a few minutes and come face-to-face with myself in my mirror.  Bangs stuck to my forehead with sweat, one eyebrow half gone, a wine-flush in my cheeks, and wine-stained lips.  Maybe it was better under the duvet.  

But I want out, for a few minutes. I want to go buy all the ice cream that I can, so I can indulge myself fully. I need some air, so I shove my feet into some shoes, and grab up my keys.

-----

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[krismusings]

we need to talk. | Ro&Jay

Discord thread featuring: Roman, and @jayceelynd - mentions of @aaronhart93

Where: Their house.

When: day after throuple event

Description: Roman comes home to a home-cooked meal, and decides to tell Jay about Aaron.

Trigger Warnings: Passing out, extreme drama, extreme babying lol

Roman

Roman hadn’t been in the best mental state these days, and it wasn’t hard for anyone to tell. Jaycee most of all, out of everyone, had to know that he wasn’t himself. He hadn’t had sex, or eaten much, in over a week, and mixed with the hard partying he’d been involved in for pride - Roman was pushing his limits. It was around seven when he finally got home from the theater, smirking to himself as soon as he was in the door when he could smell the aroma of Jay’s cooking. She’d been slaving away all day, and he was more than thankful for her. “Hey babe.” He called out, shrugging off his rose gold bomber jacket to hang in the coat closet.

Jaycee.

Jaycee has set the table for a nice elegant dinner. Pulling out a nice red and white wine, unable to decide to be honest. So why not two? She knew Roman hadn’t been taking care of himself and she wanted to make him a home cooked meal, completely from scratch. Setting the food on the table as she heard him come in, smiling. Not in any pain since she had been stretching and working her upper body out to help her heal a little fast. She missed these intimate settings with her boyfriend and was truly excited to have time with him. Taking her Nonnas apron off she smoothed down here summer dress and padded her way to him barefoot. “Hey baby” she said with a soft smile as she stood on her toes, wrapping her arms around his shoulder to give him a kiss. Resting her face into his neck as she breathed him in. “I missed you” she whispered against his neck before giving a soft peck to the sensitive skin.

Roman.

Ro was excited for food, but even more than that, he was glad to see Jaycee on her feet, and not in excruciating pain. He was sure there was still some sensitivity there, but compared to where she was at, this was a huge relief. “I missed you, too.” Ro tightened his arms around her girlfriend before placing a few kisses to the top of her head. “You look stunning, as always.” He mused with a dimple in his cheek, looking behind her towards the kitchen as a sign he was now focused on the small wafting from there. “I’m about to really embarrass myself with how much I plan on eating.”

Jaycee.

Placing her hand to her cheeks, smiling up at him as he complimented her. “You as well, always”. Sliding her hands down his arms to his hand with a smirk on her lips. She loved cooking for Roman, he always ate the way she’d hope he would. Growing up with her full Italian Nonna teaching her the satisfaction of watching those you love most, enjoying your cooking that was made with so much love. “You could never embarrass yourself” she lead him to the table where there was a Tiffany bag sitting between their place settings. “I didn’t know if you wanted a red or white. So I grabbed both.” Waving her hand for him to take a seat as she served him a beautiful plate of Rigatoni with vodka sauce and grated some fresh Parmesan over it. The bread was freshly cooked and sliced to grab along with a tossed salad for them to enjoy. Before making herself a plate she grabbed his face and kissed him several time, with a smile on her lips whispering that she loved him. After her plate was made she sat next to him. “What whine? That’s vodka sauce over the Rigatoni so, you pick” rolling her R’s as she spoke.

Roman.

Ro was smiling the whole time she lead him to their dining table, eyes fixed on the Tiffany’s bag that was placed there. He looked confused, but intrigued, especially by how damn good this food looked. “Wow, babe.” He smirked against her lips, returning each kiss before she pulled back to ask him which wine he wanted. “Uhh...let’s do the pino. Always good with pasta.” He pointed to the white, his stomach growling intensely as the scents filled his nostrils. “Thank you for doing all this.”

𝒥𝒶𝓎𝒸𝑒𝑒

“Dig in, enjoy. This was all made just for you.” She smiled as she knew he was wondering what the hell was in the Tiffany’s bag. Opening the wine, she poured them a big glass of wine to enjoy with their pasta. “I honestly truly love cooking for you. It warms my heart to watch you enjoy my work.” Grabbing her fork she took a few bites before taking a sip of her wine, then licking her lips. “How was work?” She asked him while sitting the glass down.

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 

“Thank you.” Ro was still smiling, because Jaycee just always made him feel pretty damn special. Maybe that was why he felt constantly guilty in their relationship, like she was always going above and beyond, and he was out being a fucking menace. “You’re an amazing cook, how could I not enjoy it?” He countered right back to her, not wasting anymore time before he was taking his first bite. He moaned, followed by a sigh of content. “Wow.” He chuckled. “Work was fine, but not near as good as this. Damn, babe.”

Jaycee

She had kept the same smile on her face, since he came in. Ugh this boy was everything that made her life so much better and happier. Jaycee did have a hard time sometimes not know who he was with, but she knew if he didn’t love her he wouldn’t be with her every night. Holding her, and the way he takes care of her when she’s hurt or sick.. He was her person, best friend and love of her life. Taking a bite, finding herself giggled with a soft hum as she took a bite. “I love watching you enjoy my cooking. And I don’t know why but it is kinda doing something for me. “ crossing her legs under the table. Taking a sip of wine, enjoying the flavors mixing with her cooking. “I made some more signs for some friends while cooking dinner. I really miss dancing.” She sighed softly, she hated not being busy, and If she needed a break she wanted to be lazy with her boyfriend. But that’s what vacations are for, god they needed one. Just them, away from their lives for a bit.

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 

Ro just chuckled when she said it was doing something for her, shaking his head, because she was just so ridiculous in the best way. He genuinely didn’t think he was as attractive as others seemed to think he was, but the attention was nice. Roman pouted thiugh when she said she missed dancing, knowing it had been hard for her to stay away from the dance studio for so long. He’d be the same off the stage. “Soon enough, babe. But when you do go back, please be fucking careful.” He teased her, winking as he took another sip of his wine.

Jaycee.

Grabbing her cloth napkin and patting at her lips as she laughed. “I swear I’ll never trust a newbie to catch me. I did find out he’s been kicked out of a few studios for the same reason.” She arched a brow as she tilted her head as she still thought about that. Letting her foot rest against his leg, needing to always be touching him when he was around. Rather it was sexual or not, his touch soothed her. Sighing contently as she enjoyed the candle lit meal with him, she got nervous about her gift. Hoping it wouldn’t be too much. Not realizing she was chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. As she always would while nervous. Nervous on if she’s crossing a line, on if he would accept it even. What if he denied it, how could she not hide the hurt it’d cause. It would probably be best to wait until they were finished eating, anyways. That way she knew he got enough, knowing he hadn’t been eating. “Roman..” she said softly as she turned her eyes up to his. “Please don’t forget yourself again. I.. I had sort of an eating disorder a long time ago and still to this day struggle with my moms voice telling me not to go over a certain weight. But I was lucky I had Khai and Aaron to keep me in check. That’s why they watch me, making sure I don’t fall again. And I won’t, I have a deep love for food. So that’s why I get worried, I know how I hurt people for doing what I did. I’m not saying you’d do that. I just don’t want you to forget to eat, or to take care of yourself first. Always” she grabbed his hand closest to her, stroking her thumb over the back of his hand.

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓

Roman clenched his jaw when Jaycee continued to talk about the idiot who dropped her, still wishing he could go kick the shit out of him. His mood certainly didn’t lift when she proceeded to express her concern, reminded him that he needed to not forgot himself again. Ro of course knew where she was coming from, but hearing Aaron’s name did nothing but make him feel sick, again. That seemed to be a recurring theme lately. Roman placed his fork down on the plate, and decided to take this opportunity to finish off his wine. Ro flashed his girlfriend a tight lipped grin, and then turned his hand over so that he could lace their fingers together. “Jay. Aaron told me last night at Throuple that he was in love with me.” The words felt like lead on his tongue, but he had to be honest with her, even if the other male’s confession wasn’t changing his relationship with Jaycee. He couldn’t wait until they were done eating to tell her what was on his mind, and maybe that was a bad idea, but oh well. “He’s now exclusive with Eden though, so I’m not sure why he chose to tell me that, but I just feel like it’s something you should know...”

Jaycee.

Jaycee’s heart stopped hard and fast in her chest, causing her to breathe in a sharp but subtle breath, as she listened to him. Her brows furrowing, lips parted as she shook her head. Looking down at their hands connected. “Why.. I..l .” She closed her mouth and took a sip of her wine with her free hand. Placing it back to the table.  “I didn’t know it was more than sleeping together..” she said with her shoulders dropping. “And do you feel the same?” She said as she couldn’t look up at him. Her eyes stinging, swallowing slowly as she controlled herself. Was she losing him? Why would anyone tell someone they were in love with them, knowing that, that person was in a relationship of any kind to his friend of so long. Some friend that is, she thought to herself.

Roman.

Ro took in a deep breath, and closed his eyes tightly when Jay began to respond, able to hear the heartbreak in her voice, which in turn hurt him as well. He didn’t want to make her feel this way, he hated hurting her, and yet it felt like he did so often. Why she wanted to be with him, he’d never know. “It wasn’t more than sleeping together, at first.” He squeezed her hand, hoping she would continue holding onto him, because he wasn’t trying to let her go. “I wish I could say I didn’t.” He said softly, his eyes still on her though, because he wasn’t going to look away like a coward, not with her. “But it doesn’t matter Jay, Aaron and I aren’t running off together or anythin’, okay? It jus’ happened, and we didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I jus’, I needed to be honest with you. I love you.”

Jaycee.

Bringing her free hand to her face to cover her mouth as she listened to him. “I know it’s bothering you that I’m hurting but, Roman. This makes me feel as if my love isn’t enough. I can’t help how it makes me feel, and I’m not sorry for feeling the way I do.” Not removing her hand, because even though she was hurting so much right now, his touch was keeping her level and secure. It calmed her. Her eyes watering as they looked up at him and read him through his eyes. He was hating himself right now, and she knew it. “But do you want to? Am I holding you back?” She asked him in a soft tone. Searching his eyes. “I don’t know what you want.” She cried softly as her shoulder shook. Fear of him saying he wanted Aaron over her as she breathed as deeply as she could. Even after all of this fear wrecking through her tiny frame, Jaycee wanted to just crawl into his lap and be held by him, comforted by him as she held him back.

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓

This was exactly what he’d been dreading. He hated making Jaycee feel like she wasn’t enough, and he couldn’t blame her for feeling that way. At all. He just shook his head, using his free hand to rub at his temple while he looked down at his half eaten dinner now. “Jay, this isn’t about you at all, or you not being enough.” He assured her, feeling like he was on the verge of yet another panic attack. Christ, he was so damn fragile these days. “I didn’t tell you any of this to make you feel like you’re not enough or you’re holding me back. Aaron is going to stay with Eden, and you and I are going to continue on as we have been. My mental state has just been so fucked up with Landon coming back into town, and this shit with Khai - I just leaned on others more than I should have, and this is because of me, not you.”June 6, 2020

Jaycee.

She wasn’t trying to make this about her, but she needed to say what she needed to say. He needed to know how she felt because of all of this. “I wish you’d lean on me, let me in to help you. That’s what a girlfriend does, Ro” she said as she placed her free hand over his. “I mean it’d mess me up if Lane came back. You don’t just stop loving people, I completely understand and see that. I’m here for you, always. You are so fucking frustrating.. You know that?” She couldn’t help but to let out a breathless laugh as she held onto his hand with both of her small ones. Bringing his knuckles to her lips, not letting her eyes leave his. Maybe one day he will feel like he can lean on her always. And right now he was testing that out in theory, yes it hurts but not everything is going to be bliss at all times. Jaycee stood up and sat in his lap, sideways. Grabbing his fork, she got a piece of pasta, making sure some sauce was coated on it nicely. “Here..” she wanted to feed him, and take care of him. She knew he was breaking and wanted to be here as she cared for him. Not mixed in emotions that will be resolved and worked out. Bringing the fork to his lips, offering him a bite. “Let me..” she whispered as she looked into his beautiful eyes. He deserved to be proven that her love for him was endless, unconditional and understanding. And in caring for him in all desires, was what she loved doing for him.

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 

Roman turned his face away from her when she said she wished he would lean on her. He was a shitty boyfriend, and felt like an even shittier person right now. He wasn’t upset with her, he understood exactly what she was saying, and how she felt. His eyes began to water when Jay said he was frustrating, because even though she was joking, he knew it was truth. When she got in his lap, and tried to feed him, all he could do was stare at the fork, and then look up at her with a heaviness in his normally so lightly tinted eyes. “Jay, I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice broke, and instead of worry about the food she was offering him, and lunged forward to wrap his arms around her waist, and press his cheek to her chest.

Jaycee.

Sitting the fork down slowly as her heart literally broke for the pain she saw in his eyes. “Baby..” she said as she held him to her chest. Playing with his hair, and gently rocked him in her arms. Kissing the top of his soft hair, letting him just be held in her arms even though in return he was holding her. Both of them sitting there for awhile, just embracing one another. A tear rolled down her cheek and into his hair, sniffling with a soft hiccup as she hated when he hurt so much. “I got you” she whispered against his hair as her cheek rested on top of his head. Her heart beat racing as she held him tightly. Looking over at the table, squeezing her eyes shut at the Tiffany bag. She wondered if she should wait, and just take Roman to bed and hold him all night. Grabbing his chin after stroking his cheek gently so he’d look up at her. “You wanna go to bed and snuggle. Let me hold you?” She searched his eyes, as he thumb gently caressed his cheekbone.

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 

Once again, Jaycee was comforting him when she really shouldn’t be. Ro felt like he deserved to feel every ounce of pain, both mental, and physical. His life was only a mess, because he made it thus. Jay loved him, but it wasn’t her fault that Ro was out fucking around, and making the wrong decisions. He was so fucked up from what his mother had done to him all those years ago - and maybe it took a long fucking time for those issues to surface, but they were, and Ro was now like a ticking time bomb. Fuck. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry...you made this lovely dinner and I’m...” he took in a deep breath, and just squeezed his arms around her.

Jaycee.

She sat there and just held him, no matter what he did. She loved him, and Jaycee could see deep down he was hurting and she felt that at some point he would need her to catch him. Fuck, he’s caught her a few times, probably more than needed. “Hey..” she said softly as she looked into his eyes, resting her hand on his chest. “There’s some in the fridge, we can snack on it later. It’s okay..” she assured him. “I’ll clean up tomorrow, we can do whatever you want.” Her eyes moving side to side as she continued to look into his eyes. “We both know I over cook at times, and I’m a sucker for candle lit anything. So this isn’t the last one.” She winked at him with a faint smirk. Reluctantly she stood up and held his hand as she used the other to hold her hair back while blowing the candles out. “I got some new weed today that will help you sleep, hopefully. I know you haven’t slept much and you need it. How do you feel about maybe..” she stood near him as she fidgeted with her dress with her free hand. “Playing hooky and spending the day in bed, we can just bum around and enjoy being home.” She looked down at his big hand in her small one, tracing the veins in his hand.

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 

As usual, Jay was being her naturally understanding, and charming self. He’d never been so thankful for anyone in his life, because honestly? If it wasn’t for Jaycee, Roman would be jumping off a cliff at the point. She kept him grounded, and focused, and he appreciated that SO damn much. He smirked when she fidgeted with her dress, and suggested playing hooky tomorrow. How he’d be able to take time away from the show, he wasn’t sure, but the idea sounded so inticing. “Maybe...” he said weakly, taking in a deep breath when he started to get dizzy once again. “Let’s jus’ go lay down.” Ro requested, moving to stand up, and then he went cold immediately. Little food, barely any sleep, emotional stress - apparently that’s a cocktail for eyes rolling back in your head, and passing out cold, because he folded down to the floor like fucking human origami, and there was no way for poor Jay to even attempt catching him.

Jaycee.

She couldn’t help but to return his smirk as she felt hope in spending time together. Turning back from blowing the candles out she felt like everything was in slow motion as she watched him buckle to the ground. “ROMAN!” She cried as she went to her knees, checking for any rhythm near the artery of his neck. It was steady, but she grabbed her phone and dialed for the doctor that lived below them, then called nine one one. Tears were streaming down her face as she held his head in her lap. “Baby, please answer me..” she cried out. As the doctor and paramedics came rushing in to work on him, to get him to respond. She never left his side regardless of being told to. They started an IV while checking his vital signs. She sat there waiting, not knowing what to do. She can’t lose him, not like this. “I know he’s barely been eating or sleeping lately, and he’s had a lot of stress. Some heavy stress at that. Please tell me he’s going to be okay.” She sniffled.

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 

Ro could remember flashes of things once he was in the ambulance. It was really bright, and it felt like a million people were talking at once. Jaycee was next to him, he remembered that. He remembered how bad his head fucking hurt - pounding, and miserable. It was hard to focus on anything other than that until he was once again falling asleep. He was just so tired, both physically and mentally. Roman was the ultimate caregiver, always taking care of his friends, even if he did do a lot of things on the sideline that he considered to be extremely selfish. This though, took the cake. It was by far the most selfish thing he could have ever done, neglect himself enough to get to this point, and scare the shit out of everyone he loved. He deserved a crown for this one. “I’m sorry.” He rasped out when they were finally in a hospital room, Roman coherent and uncomfortable enough in this damn hospital bed to be alert. “I know that’s all I ever say to you anymore, but I am.” He played with the hospital band around his wrist, closing his eyes when his blood pressure cuff started to go off again. God, he hated those damn things.

Jaycee.

Jaycee paced back and forth as he rested here and there. Her heart was racing as she feared he truly hurt himself, with him passing out. Looking out the window, as she played with her necklace. Saying so many unspoken prayers to who ever or what ever was listening. Turning around as he spoke, moving faster than needed to be by his side. Her eyes tearing up as she shook her head. Her chin trembling, she cleared her throat. “I thought..” she choked as she sat on the side of the bed, grabbing his hand that was playing with  band. “Please, don’t make me lose you like that.” She sucked in a shaky breath, as her head gently shook. Looking into his eyes she gently stroked his face. “Roman, I love you no matter the times you have to apologize. I’m just so fucking thankful to see those beautiful emerald green eyes that hooked me from the first day we met, them and that dimpled smile.” She smiled at him softly as a single tear slid down her cheek. Sniffling a little. “You need anything? Want me to get you anything?”

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 

Roman felt his heart clench when Jaycee rushed for his side, the look on her face alone, enough to make him feel a massive weight on his chest. She was being so passionate, and sweet, and saying everything that someone could possibly want to hear from a lover. He was too guilty to accept it though, reaching out to rub her cheek after catching the falling tear. “No. I don’t need anythin’, I jus’...” Ro dropped his head back, and looked up at the ceiling with a defeated sigh. “Can we not tell anyone about this? I feel bad enough that I’m putting you through this shit.”

Jaycee.

Leaning into his hand, she sighed. Jaycee could see he wasn’t allow himself to accept her kindness or words she spoke. Nodding her head to his question not saying anything for a minute or two as she watched him. “I don’t have anyone I care to tell, this is something we’re dealing with. Together, okay?” She said softly. Shaking her head she remembered feeling bad enough to put him through her ordeal as well. “I want to be here for you though, so please don’t beat yourself up that I’m here with you.” She squeezed his hand softly. Leaning up she turned the lights out, knowing his head was probably pounding from everything. “Just try to rest.” She leaned over him and played with his hair, softly and gentle.

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 79

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Baddest Man Alive

Summary:  Alfie takes revenge out on London. He opens up a bit to Tommy about how he feels about the lives they lead and what it means for the women that they’re with. Genevieve wakes. Song is Baddest Man Alive by The Black Keys.

Warnings/Tags: Fluff. Language. Canon typical violence. References to sexual assault and violence. Injury. Vengeful Alfie. Fluff. Alfie and Tommy conversations. 

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Alfie bursts into the best hospital he knows in London with absolutely no grace or manners to his entrance. As soon as Arthur clears the way with the doors he's shouting in his rough, thick Camden accent for the best doctor and nurses in the place and fuck anyone else because this woman was the most important. If Genevieve had been conscious, she would've thought the whole rant was rather charming.

"We need to take her to treat her Mr. Solomons." a nurse says with clear agitation as he sputters his words, not realizing he'd have to let her out of his sight.

As she's taken from his arms, he doesn't want to let go, but both Tommy and Arthur help pry her away and hand her off to the doctors who get to work before shes even hit the gurney. They both stand with the forlorn and lost looking Alfie Solomons, showing that he was indeed human as he stood covered in blood in the hallway with the Shelby brothers hands on either of his shoulders.

"They'll do everything they can Mr. Solomons." a young girl with a sympathetic smile says, holding paperwork. "But right now we need to know some information." she says with a very timid delivery, none of the men even acknowledging her presence, they were all rattled with what had gone down.

"We'll handle it." a familiar voice from the doorway comes as Claire and Polly come with stern looks on their face and headstrong postures. Clearly two strong women who pushed the boys aside to move with the nurse to the back behind the swinging doors.

"Claire!" Alfie snaps out his trance, seeing Gen's body disappear down a hallway.

"I've got it Alfie. If you come back you'll only cause trouble." she answers with no anger in her voice as her hand rests on his chest. "I believe you might have some... business that needs tending to?" she says with vengeful eyes that swing up to meet his under her brow.

"Until I know she's okay I'm not fuckin' leavin'." he retorts with a fast shake of his head.

"That's fair. Wait here and the moment she's settled I will let you know. Otherwise, there is a phone down the hall. There are surely some calls you need to make." she gives him a harsh poke into his chest. "Make the best of this time before people know... what happened." she states clearly, breaking through his heavy blanket of self pity and guilt he was clearly wearing on his face. "Alfie. She needs you to be a strong man right now. And you are. You can do this."

"I know I fuckin' can Claire." he says defensively.

"There he is." she says with a more endearing nod. "Then you need to make some calls don't you? Spend this time wisely."

"Right." he says thumbing his nose.

"I'll be back soon." she says before swiftly turning and following the bewildered looking nurse down the hall towards surgery.

"What's the plan?" Tommy says, with his characteristic cool delivery.

Alfie takes a deep breath. "Gonna call me men. We've got some feet to get on the ground." he says with a strong brow, eyes darting in through across the room. "Let's go somewhere more private, yeah? Not the place to be discussin' such things." he says with a swish of his jacket as he moves down the hall to the phone.

-------

As promised, Claire comes and finds the boys all hunched and grumbling their plans of attack in an empty conference room. She says only one at a time, but Arthur refuses to wait.

"Who's gonna fuckin' tell ME no?" he says, pushing through the doors as Claire walks with her guard up next to Alfie.

Polly sits by the bed, holding Gen's bandaged hand. Her hair was now wet and washed, brushed back and braided out of the way. The light coming through the blinded windows, bouncing off everything that was white and sterile in the single room makes her look even worse, he thinks. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking. He stands at the foot of her bed, staring and unsure of how to proceed. Polly knew Alfie and Gen had been living together, seen kissing in his club, but she'd never genuinely thought he was in love with her until she saw his eyes. Until she felt it pouring out of him as he stood there like a shell shocked soldier taking in the beaten angel before him.

"They've got her sleeping with tranquilizers for now. She needs rest, she'll be in a lot of pain and they're unsure of the damage her brain may have taken. It's all a waiting game for now. But she will be sleeping for quite some time." Polly informs him, slowly moving away as his fingers traced up her leg, as he walked to her side, sitting in the chair by the bed.

"Poor thing." Arthur says with a sigh, rubbing his chin, sniffling at the sight.

"She'll live Arthur. She doesn't need pity. What she's been through would've killed a lesser man." Polly says with a reassuring smirk.

"She's a tough little bird no doubt." he answers as he tries to sneakily wipe away a tear. "I'm.." he clears his throat. "I'm not cut out for this sort've thing no more." he shakes his head and Polly pats his arms gently. "I'll go get Tommy. We'll get to work." he mutters, wiping his nose as his breath is loud and shaky exiting the room.

"Leave us for a minute." Alfie says, slowly taking her hand into his, feeling the cold and clammy skin against the callouses and warmth of his own. He'd cleaned up what he could of himself in the bathroom, no longer caked in blood and filth. Claire puts her hand to his shoulder, making him meet her eyes and share a nod to make sure he would be alright alone before departing. "Chanah." he whispers, his shoulder slumping with his elbows on the bed, her hand to his lips as his watery eyes look over her face that looked so peaceful now around the swelling and discoloration. "I 'on't know if you can hear me, yeah. But I guess I'll tell ya for me own sake." he begins, kissing her hand. "I know this was 'cause of me, right? 'N I know you knew this could happen. But it don't make me fink you deserved it to. I know I deserve the... pain I felt with you gone. But you..." he shakes his head, his lips against her skin. "This weren't supposed to happen to you." he reaches out and touches her cheek and she takes a deeper breath. "I love you. I want you to know that I'm going to kill every fucker that had anything to do wif 'is. Im gonna watch the life fade from their eyes for ya love. Just like you do. I'm gonna salt the fuckin earth and burn down every fuckin' fing. I'm gonna do right by you. You're gonna get betta, and I'm gonna be there, and I'm gonna do what I should've already fuckin' done before that night. Should've proposed the night I met you, eh? I knew you was special even then. I've been blind love. And for that I do apologize."

"I'll have to tell her she's the first to get an apology from Alfie Solomons." Tommy's voice comes from the doorway. Alfie does not react, he keeps both his hands wrapped around her small one.

"They say she will live. But they don't know what damage was done." he repeats the diagnosis.

"Polly said the same. I don't know what weight you and yours hold to our sort of future seeing but she says she will be fine. It won't be easy...but you'll get her back. Which is more than most of us get." he states, looking at the ground.

"I know I sent you flowers for that 'n all. But I would like to say I'm sorry you lost your Grace. I know now." he nods. "I know why you did what you done after that."

Tommy clears his throat, adjusting his posture at the mention of such a thing in sincerity. "Perhaps this will keep you from acting like such a difficult animal now, eh?" he offers. "But this happened because of you and you can"t take that back now. I've been there. But without the luck you've had of gettin' to keep her. And no matter how you act I know you're a clever man. So now you can see what's really worth taking a risk for. You know now what there is to lose."

"Tommy..." he begins, sitting up straight and holding her hand after placing it on the bed. "Imagine...right? Imagine that you could not see at all. You was born blind." he speaks with confident words. "Then one day...you open up your eyes and you can see... everyfing...in the world. When before you could only touch it, or smell it. There it is." he gives a big nod of his chin. "The revelation...innit?" he tilts his head, gazing down at the woman in the bed that gave his life a new, deeper cause for fighting. "I've had one, yeah." he nods slowly, turning his head just the same to Tommy. "This woman here...she's what I've been missin' mate. She's... everyfing. Without her nothing tastes good, nothing feels good, there is no good if she is not here. She’s made me realize the kinda man I gotta be to keep somefin like her in me life. And I’m gonna fuckin be it, yeah. I mighta forgot who the fuck I was. What it is that I truly want outta this fuckin’ life. But I remember now. Havin’ somefin to live for besides yaself will change a man. Knowing the tenderness only a woman can show you will change you as well, mate. As I think you know. Same as all the fuckin carnage and violence we did when we was young. Us… fuckin men, fuckin degenerates what don’t deserve their love. But we aren’t children anymore mate. We’re men who gotta live wif our choices. And I have made questionable ones. But never about her. She’s always been the right one.”

Tommy nods, feeling the sentiment deep in his chest. "Best you keep her close, eh? Our lives...aren't meant for us to have women like them. We don't deserve them, yet we keep them anyway and this happens...or worse." he motions to her and lets out a controlled breath. He takes a moment, Alfie giving a slow blink and a nod of understanding.

“I know what we gotta do now mate.” He says before clearing his throat. “This one here...she’s vicious.” Gives her a smile. “She’d want me out there... not in here feelin’ sorry for her. She hates bein’ pitied.”

“So let’s celebrate her staying among the living by doing just that then, eh?” He suggests, putting his hat back on his head.

“I’m gonna kill every last one of em for ya love. No one's gonna dare think to mess with you again. I’m gonna give them something to remember yeah? Something worthy of a Solomons.” He promises, standing and giving her forehead a kiss. “I love you Chanah. I’ll be back with good news soon.” ------- At the bakery, a small army of men gathered in the confines of the musky space, both Jews and gypsies alike as the Shelby’s lent their hand to the plot of revenge for what had been done to Genevieve. Not only was she the god mother to Charlie and Ruby, she had been tortured for information about them and had not given up a thing. She was sold as a martyr to the men, an example of loyalty and toughness that they could only hope to imitate. Because of her, they were all safe, along with their livelihoods and families, their way of life still under protection and Tommy still in a position of power in Parliament to make sure that those who had supported Horne in his attempts at brushing elbows with any political affiliations, would feel nothing but rejection on every front they tried. Tommy had already been battling the fascists rise, and with Horne having supported their sentiments, gave Tommy another story to tell to add to his persuasive efforts to discredit the supporters of the movement.Tommy in his composed delivery tells the men that today there is no difference between the men all gathered in this room, that they were all an oppressed people and this was a clear attack on them and theirs. It could not go without retaliation. Solomons word was gold and whatever orders he gave they would follow as they acted as a single unit in this moment, putting their pasts behind them to ensure that no one had the nerve to rise against either of them again.

Both knowing that no matter what they did today, there would always be someone out to get them, they still wove the pretty story of ultimate redemption to the more simple and short sighted among them, and the tale served its purpose.

He stands on a soap box, and not as Alfie or Ari, but as Captain Solomons. His voice was powerful and confident, the men riled up by the idea of defending their own against evil, a strategy used by leaders to manipulate those beneath them since the beginning of time, and now was no different. Alfies men that knew Genevieve are ready to defend her. To them she was a small and sweet woman who made the boss more tolerable, a generous business woman who donated to charities and painted and taught some of their children. They couldn’t stand by and let a man like Horne, and thus anyone who sided with him get away with treating a woman, particularly a Jewish woman in such a way.

Alfie tells them of their plans of attack. Find your places, hide your weapons and hold your ground until the signals were dropped. Then, a mass raid of businesses, homes, offices and factories of Horne’s would be demolished and burned. Those that fought them would die and those found within the confines of the walls of the enemy were not to be seen as human, but as direct threats to them and theirs. Alfie was out for blood, and he would have it by his own hand and by the hands of those under his command. As far as he was concerned, this was war.

Tommy only directs, retreating to his home to keep his nose clean of the fighting, having to protect his image. His role of influence was important, and Alfie understood why he couldn’t get get in the muck with them. But Arthur and John, they were rapid attack dogs ready for a fight. It’s been too long since they’d felt so alive and thirsty for violence. Each man, the two Shelby brothers and Alfie take a spot to command, the rest entrusted by faithful men. Alfie took Horne’s offices, Arthur his home and John his most successful business.

At the time their synchronized watches hit the hour as agreed upon, places all over London were raided. Alfie shoots on sight, not discerning who was on the other end of his gun. Arthur is a mad dog who beats the first man he sees to death, making his way through the men that stayed in Horne’s home as he had no family. John and his men shoot and slice, the cans of petrol brought in in twos as they soaked every floor of the factory.

The men all stood with pride, seeing the carnage left behind. They each relish the moment of striking and watching the matches burn before throwing them into the soaked innards of the buildings. All across London fires broke out. It sent a flood of gossip among the residents of bombings of riots. Alfie and the culprits long gone as the people flooded into the streets as the buildings went up in flames, everything lost in minutes. Once word got around as to what had happened with the abdication and the men behind it, The ash made it all the way across the city, carried by the wind as the pieces fell as filthy snow, a reminder to those who escaped that all of London was to fear Solomons. In case they’d forgotten he was not someone to fuck with. They’d remember now. ----- In her separate room with the big windows, Genevieve rests on the edge of waking. Claire rests bedside, lost in thought and studying the wood grain in the door to pass the time, her mind too ragged to do anything too productive. She figures she should get used to waiting, because for a long time to come that was going to be what everyone had to do to see what the lasting damage on Genevieve would be.

The squeak of movement on the bed snaps Claire’s mind out of its trance, worrying about taking over Abeille and telling the school and children’s homes of Gens upcoming long term absence.

For a moment she looks almost herself despite the injuries to her face as she wakes. The swelling having gone down slightly in her bad eye, the lashes flutter as she fights out of the forced unconsciousness. For a brief moment she tries to focus with a still relaxed face before Claire has to see her face contort into an expression she’d never seen on her friends face before, overwhelming fear.

She struggles, trying to knock away someone who wasn’t there, her escaping sounds broken and hoarse from the damage to her throat and vocal chords from injury and screaming.

“Genevieve you’re safe!” Claire says loudly, grabbing her wrists and trying to get in her line of sight. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital. You’re safe.” She says over and over as she begins to focus on her closest confidants face with her bloodshot and blackened eyes. “Bonjour Genevieve.” She says with a kind tone as she sees recognition behind her eyes now.

She stills her arms, her eyes moving slowly around the room, squinting as she shook her head away from the sunlight coming through the windows, it hurt to look at and she didn’t need more pain. “Ah-“ it comes out as a dulled croak but she tries again, “Ah...fuh.” She tries, wincing at the pain when she tried to speak.

“Shhhh, don’t try to talk. Your throat and vocal chords took a lot of damage. Doctor says it’s best not to talk for awhile... while your body is healing anyway.”

She shakes her head fast, then groaning and the room spinning and nausea coming forth quickly as she reaches up to hold her head. “Ah-“ She begins again, tears starting to fall from her eyes.

“He’ll be here soon.” Claire answers her supportively. “We thought he’d have time to get back before you woke. But it seems you’re too stubborn to even stay asleep with medicine.” She gives her a smile she doesn’t see, reaching up and fluffing a pillow, helping her recline and sit up. “He’s fine. Everyone’s okay.” She says taking her hands as they started shaking as she squinted and stared at them, braces on three of her fingers from them being broken and a tight wrap around both her wrists. “Your hands were hurt, and your wrists.

Genevieve nods in understanding. She touches her ribs and looks to Claire.

“Broken ribs, bruises and fractures, but nothing that you can’t heal.” She says with a supportive nod.

Moving the blankets away Genevieve looks down her legs, the hospital gown having rode up in her struggle. She wiggles her toes, moving her ankles with a pained sound, then her knees which were scraped and bruised.

“Nothing broken in your legs.” Claire clarifies.

Gen takes in a deep exhale, wincing before placing her hand to her stomach, finding all the blood to be gone now much to her relief.

“Yeah there was a lot of blood.” She says quietly, not wanting to upset her further, but clearly she wanted to know what the damage was. ”There was so much they didn’t know what was yours and what was...not yours.” She tries to be gentle and not mention the man that did this to her. “Your body has taken a lot of damage, Genevieve. You’ll need to take medicine and rest for a long while. Only time will tell us what will heal and what won’t.” She explains and puts the covers back over her. “Most of all you need to take it easy because of your head.”

She nods and gets dizzy again.

“Yeah don’t move so much.” Claire says softly, gently moving her head against a pillow. “I’ve kept your records private. Alfie won’t be able to see them.” She begins. “I didn’t know if you’d want him knowing... the full extent of what’s happened.” She explains.

Genevieve gives her an appreciative smile, closing her eyes and taking Claire’s hand.

“I’m glad you agree.” Claire bods and let’s out an exhale she didn’t know she was holding in. “But you’ll be okay. There’s so many people that are going to help you get better. You’ll have the best doctors and care and you’ll feel better.” Her words were laced with sadness but the thud that’s accompanying the headache in Gens head drowns out her hearing from time to time. “I’ll let you rest again.” She says letting her hand go, a pat to it as she sees her settle into her pillow fully. ——————-

Alfie stands in front of the double doors, looking in before he enters. He was utterly exhausted. All he wanted was to go home with her and have this all be over, but he knew that couldn’t happen.

“I knew you two lived together...” Polly begins, walking up to him with crossed arms, her ever knowing eyes to the side as she stands in front of the other rectangular window in the double swinging doors. “But I did not know how much you loved her.” She finishes, seeing Gens sleeping form look almost peaceful with her head to the side. “Nor her you.”

Alfie swallows audibly, a deep rise and fall of his chest as he prepares himself to face her.

“She asked for you first you know.”

“Claire told me.” He says with a soft voice.

“After she comes out on the other side of this...and she will...you need to marry that girl.” She states as fact.

“That has been my intention for a long time.” He says wistfully, pushing through the door without turning to look at Polly. “Just thought she deserved something grand, yeah? Had been planning it for months.” She nods, watching him move slowly, half from fatigue and half from hesitancy to disrupt his love. Perhaps Alfie did have both a brain and a heart. “I wanna do it now truth be told. But I don’t want any part of this fuckin nightmare to be associated with it. I won’t have her rememberin’ this pain every time she thinks bout our marriage. I’m gonna make it perfect for her. And right now innit fuckin that.” He says with a stern face and a sigh.

"She's been through a lot, Solomons." she states with a flat delivery, side eyeing him.

"I know." he nods, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. "But she's strong."

"That's clear now." she says with an agreeable expression. "She's one of us. I thought she was just a little rich girl but... clearly there's more there."

"Much more. I wouldn't be wif some posh little cunt now would I?" he asks, swinging his head her way.

"I don't know you that well Solomons. Just to not trust you." she smirks.

"Fair." he nods.

"You're going to need to be delicate with her." she says after a moment of silence. "Can you be delicate?"

"She'll make it, yeah? Doctors have her a good prognosis.." he offers as a cop out for answering about his potential softness.

"Solomons. I'm serious." she says with a lowering of her chin. "It'll be like she's been through the war like you were boys were. She was held captive. Treated worse than you boys were if the stories I've heard about Horne were true. And I have reason to believe they were. "

"I know." he says with a grimace.

"She won't be the same. You know that right? Because you should. None of you boys came back the same as you left."

"Right." he gruffs out, staring at her, looking so peaceful for a few moments longer.

"So you need to treat her delicately. She'll need understanding and coddling. She'll have good days and very, very bad ones. You have to support her while she heals. She needs you more now than she ever did before." she puts a hand on his arm to make him meet her eyes which he does hesitantly, and she sees the sadness in them. "So can you be delicate?" she asks again with piercing eyes.

"Yeah, mate." he says with a nod, looking back to her in the bed. "For her I'll be whateva I've gotta be."

She nods and returns her hands to in front of her, pleased with his answer. "Good." is all she says in her usual enigmatic way. "You should go wake her. You should be the first thing she see's next time she wakes. She was asking for you, don't make her ask again." she says,giving him a nod in the direction of the bed.

"Right." he answers curtly again, lip disappearing under his mustache as he gathers himself to face the consequences of his actions. He knew he'd never forgiven himself for this happening to her. But for her sake, he would bury it deep and move forward. He needed to focus on being delicate now, like the wisest Shelby said. He didn't want to believe they wouldn't be able to put this behind them one day, but perhaps he needed to be prepared for the worst.

With a nudge of the door with his arm, his usually dominating saunter is reserved as he approaches this new evolution in Genevieve in her hospital bed. Where there had been so much life and vivacity before there is now a weakened shell. Her usual warm light brown skin is paled with a sickly yellow tint. The clouds of bruises that decorated her entire body, some in clear form of hand prints would be staying around as a painful reminder for weeks to come.

He lowers himself into the worn metal chair, he takes a moment to prepare himself to meet her eyes. “Chanah?” He calls upon her gently, taking her hand into his. it was as if he’d never noticed how much smaller she was before. She’d always looked so strong and full.

With a small noise of pain her face winces at the sound. She felt as if she had been waiting in hibernation for his voice to awaken her like a princess in a fairy tale. Her eyes open to find him there next to her, and not in the morphine fueled dreams she’d been having. “Ah.” Escapes her mangled throat as she tries to lean forward to him, arms out and hands creaking in their attempts to grab at him.

“Shhhh, love. Don’t strain yourself. I’m here, I’ll come to you.” He says with a gentle voice, leaning over the bed, bad back be damned.

She pulls him to her flush, her eyes tearing up as her hand runs through his soft hair, holding his head close to hers. She nuzzles into his cheek, savoring every small tactile sensation of his hair and beard and skin. Even in his clearly stressed and haggard state, his skin broken out with rough red patches, she wouldn’t have taken him any other way. She tries to squeeze him and whimpers, her skeletal fingers weakly digging into his jacket as she splays them painfully across his back. She needed to feel him, to know she he was real and she hadn’t died, that this was life and not the after life where she had feared she had been headed. Either way, in her morphine haze she comes to the conclusion that as long as he was there now, if she were alive or dead held less importance for her.

“S’alright love.” He says softly, his arm bracing him up while the other touches her arm so lightly she doesn’t even notice. He was now aware of her slight frame, the lean body that now trembled under his in pain. She had always been shorter, slender shoulders to be able to do the cat like sneaking she had. But with age and now the spread of hips and chest, she just looked small and soft, like she was made of kneaded and proofed dough in some places. Other parts were pointed, elbows and knees, swollen from overuse and strain. The usual roundness to her face was gone from both lack of food and water. A sad abused kitten where his powerful jungle cat had once been. “I’m not leaving you, Chanah. No need to push yourself.” He moves gently and she lets him, his face moving to find hers. The most gentle kiss to a spot on her jaw not blemished.

“Ah.” She tries again but fails, her bottom lip out and shaking like a child’s, a warning of tears to come.

“Doctor said not to speak.” He shushes her, a hand moving up to warm her cold and clammy skin, wicking away sweat and rouge strands of hair to look her over. He was using his skill of hiding his emotions in his face to the limit of his abilities for her, to not react to the marks of violence left behind, but it was not hard to look at her with love. For what she’d been through, it was almost as if it had made him love her more in some twisted way. Some dark part of him that was a devious gangster, a soldier and a Captain. It was as if she was now absolved of her precious faults. That her resolve through all the horrors and mistreatment made her a saint. She was something mythical and legendary now. A tale to be told of bravery and resilience. She was truly a gangster, no matter what choices she made hereafter, she would always be a woman of unmatchable strength. In their Jewish community, in their criminal acquaintances, and in her business, she would always have an air of untouchable strength to her now. An unbreakable woman.

“I brought you a little pad and pen so you could write out what you needed.” He says with a thoughtful tone, motioning to the table next to her. “I thought you might have some things to say.” He adds with his brows resting in a less enthusiastic expression. “And if you don’t that’s also fine, yeah? This is about what you want. Whatever it is you want. You let me know, right?” He brushes his nose against hers, not wanting to kiss her without her initiating it first. As Polly said, she’s been through things he couldn’t fathom. And he had every intention of respecting that.

Luckily for his poor heart, her hands which were full of twitches and tremors reach up and run through his beard, her eyes trying desperately to focus on him. Her brow shifts, her eyes twitching and fluttering, showing the bloodshot veins and the red wash of them in their injury to him fully. Eventually the pupils size up together, the cuts around her swollen socket reminding him of his boxing days as they helped her be able to see.

Her body lets out a sigh, her chest falling slightly as she pulls his face toward hers and kisses him. He pretends he doesn’t taste the blood, feels the splits and chap of abuse and neglect. It makes his stomach churn at the thought. A pain deep in his chest blooms as he comes to terms with the damage that must lie beneath this now cragged surface.

Her thumb runs across his lips, taking in every feature on his face, thinking about the time in the dark spent imagining it, wondering if she’d ever see it again. It hurt to kiss him, but the extra pain at this point for such a reward seemed insignificant.

“Anything you need, love. Anything you want. I’ll get it for you, yeah? You just write it down for me until that little swan neck of yours heals, eh?” He offers with a kiss to her nose. Be delicate. He reminds himself.

Already feeling her limbs growing tired, she lowers her arms and turns her head to face the bedside table.

“Would ya like it now?” He asks and she nods, triggering a spinning do her head that makes her eyes rapidly move behind her lids as she clutches the blanket on her chest for a moment. “We’ll figure out a hand motion for yes or no.” He offers up, feeling guilty for not realizing any little movement could send the throttled noggin of hers spinning. “When ya ready I’ll sit ya up wif ya pillows, love. I can move ya. No need for ya to try yaself.” He says as she steadies, holding the pen the best she can as her holds her back up and stuffs pillows behind her. The softness is appreciated and she suddenly misses her own bed.

She holds the pen with her dominant hand, only her pinky and ring finger being broken she manages with a determined face to write. She holds it up for him to read and it takes everything in him not to cry. ‘IM SORRY’ is scrawled across the paper, her handwriting not holding the same smooth feminine touch any longer.

“ Fuckin’ sorry?” He scoffs. “What the fuck do you have to be sorry for? Not a fuckin thing love!” He insists, his voice raising in his disbelief before he catches himself. Delicate, he recalls.

‘For getting taken.’ It says.

“Chanah.” His voice is broken as he drops to his knees beside the bed. “You were drugged and abducted, pet you did nothing wrong. Absolutely fuckin nothin do you hear me?” He says gripping her hand a little too tight in his emphasis as she winces and jerks away and his heart grows heavy. “You left somefin behind to! Exactly as we discussed dinnit ya? Even drugged ya did it. You did everything right. Beyond right, love you were fuckin perfect. You never apologize for this. To me or anyone. Ever. You got that? Never. You did nothing wrong.” His words carry him away, his mind moving fast and his heart pouring out as his face shows his desperation for the guilt she holds. “Im the one that’s fuckin sorry.” He admits with a hurt huff of air, almost a laugh at the outrageous thought she could be at fault. “It’s all my fuckin fault. You were right all along. I didn’t choose my actions very wisely did I? Didn’t recognize what a mad fuckin hatter...” he stops before saying his name as he sees her brows lower, the idea of the name bringing it all back, making it real as he sees her breathing pick up. “I’m so sorry, my love. I fucked up dinnit I. And you took all the consequences meant for me. It should’ve been me. Not you. You didn’t deserve a bit of this.” His head shakes as he takes a moment to breathe, kissing the back of her hand.

“Not true. I deserved it. I’ve done things too.” She writes.

“Nothin what would warrant...all ‘is.” He says with a slow drawl, and a slower shake of his head. “And from where I’m sittin, I don’t think you deserved any of it. Not after you went and made yourself a fuckin martyr for our family and the Shelby’s, eh? You’re a better woman than anyone I’ve ever known. You’re a perfect woman, Chanah. You are everything I could ever hope for in a person. And fuckin more!” He says with a surging of his chin forward as he sees her face stay down, almost frowning.

“I don’t feel perfect.” She responds, sliding the notepad his way.

His heart aches, kissing her hand, his breath traveling out across it as he exhales and presses his forehead to her skin. “I will spend the rest of my life making you believe it, Chanah.” He looks back up to her, snaking his neck to make her meet his gaze. “You are perfect. No matter what has happened. No matter what you may feel right now, or weeks or months from now. I’ll be here reminding you. Every fuckin day. My job innit it?” He presses his lips to hand and holds it there.

Her face softens, lips relaxing and twitching in thought. She nods slowly, looking at the texture of the thread in the blanket that covers the damage of her body from him. Will he still think that once the healing begins. Once her head doesn’t swim with every movement and she can process what happened to her. Will he still love her when she’s in pieces?

“Here, pet.” He says, quickly moving to reach into his pocket. “Will ‘is make ya feel better?” He asks with wide eyes, like he was bargaining with a crying child. In a lot of ways they both felt that was an appropriate simile. He pulls out his mother’s necklace he’d given her that she left behind. In his rush to feel like he was doing anything productive he’d had it fixed. It was the main piece for what he had been ready to give her that night. “Would you like it back? Remind ya of how lovely ya are eh?” He offers with a smile,but he isn’t met with one back.

‘Don’t lie to me.’ She writes, her face back to being hurt.

“I’d never.” He says with genuine hurt in his voice. “You could be in pieces love and I’d still think every bit of you was lovely.” He lays on the sweetness heavy, trying to tell her what he thought she’d want to hear, and in this moment, she accepted it.

She purses her lips and nods carefully, pulling her hair to one side slowly and he waits patiently.

He drapes the cold metal chain around the finger shaped bruises and the rope burns, a desperate attempt to distract from the injuries.

“Thank you.” She mouths, and that he can understand.

“You’re very welcome. It got lonely without you round to keep it warm and make it look so nice. Same as me, eh?” He offers, kissing her cheek. “I missed you more than all the flowery words I’ve got in me head can express, love. I was a fuckin sight without you, I was. Just like I said I’d be.” He gives her a kind smile with sincere emotion to back it up and she holds his hands in hers, a look of sleepiness passing over her face.

‘I love you.’ She writes, a subtle smile on her lips, but he would take it.

“I love you.” He says softly, lowering his head to her hands in submission, kissing every marked knuckle. “I love you so much, Chanah. More now than ever. More than yesterday and the same will be said tomorrow. Always more.” He whispers like a prayer against her hands.

Her fingertips move to touch his face, a slow and gentle sigh emanating from her body as she relaxed and laid back fully, sinking into the pillows.

“You’re exhausted love. Rest.” He suggests, moving back up to his chair with a grunt. “I’ll be right here. I innit goin nowhere.”

Her eyes are always half lidded, feeling the very exhaustion he spoke of taking her over.

“Sleep pet.” He whispers, brushing her hair back as her eyes shut. “I’ll be right here when you wake up. Always.” He seals his promise with a kiss to her temple, hoping his extravagant words didn’t come back to bite him. But in the moment he did truly feel that he could wait on her forever.

Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! It makes me want to write more of what you want if you let me know!

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[artificialqueens]

Dance Lessons (BrookexYvie) -ImposterZoe

"Brooke, I need your help," Yvie screams as she burst in the door.

Brooke yelps as she falls from her chair. Yvie dashes in to help her friend up, guilt on her face. "Sorry."

Brooke grunts as she rubs the back of her head.

"What is it?"

Yvie paused, momentarily forgetting why she came in there.

"Oh yeah! You can waltz, right?"

Brooke gives a blank stare. "I'm a dance major."

Yvie lets out an irritated groan. "I know but all the other dance majors I went to said they didn't know how!"

Hurt flashes on Brooke's face. "You had a dance problem and you didn't come straight to me?"

Yvie blushes, simultaneously confused on how she had hurt Brooke's feelings and sorry that she did in the first place.

"I didn't feel like bugging you. Because of all the stuff with Vanessa and shit," Yvie mumbles, Brooke barely catching her words.

Brooke scowls at the mention of her ex. "Yes I can waltz. You taught me."

Yvie froze. "Oh right," she whispers.

Brooke can't stop her laugh. "Why'd you ask?"

Yvie rolls a pencil under her converse. "I… forgot how to waltz," she murmurs.

Brooke really starts to laugh as Yvie's likeness to a tomato grows by the second.

"Can you reteach me or not?" Yvie cried miserably.

Brooke smirks. "Yvie do you remember what happened after you taught me to waltz?"

"We agreed to forget that!" Yvie objects.

Brooke takes a step forward, a devilish look in her eyes.

"No. You agreed to forget it. I remember in vivid detail."

Yvie bit her lip as she took a step back. "Oh yeah? Jog my memory."

Brooke grinned as she slowly backed Yvie into the door.

"Well what I remember, you taught me to waltz." Yvie makes a 'no duh' face.

"But your hands were all over me. 'Correcting my form,' you called it." Brooke ghosts a finger down Yvie's arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

"I loved the feeling of your hands on me. You knew that. You dipped me."

Yvie's eyes lock on Brooke's, their intensity matching.

"You kissed me. You let me take control."

She winds a hand around the back of Yvie's neck and pulls her face close. Her voice turned husky.

"You let me fuck you into the floor. You screamed my name."

Brooke leans in, their lips a hair's width apart.

"You let me make you mine."

"Brooke," Yvie whispers breathily.

The girl smiles.

"Brooke," Yvie says again, a bit louder. Brooke's shoulder twitches and a headache forms in the back of her head.

"Brooke!" Yvie yells in her face and Brooke sits up.

She's not standing before Yvie, lips close enough to touch. She's on the floor, with Yvie and her roommate Plastique standing over her.

"What happened?" she groaned, rubbing her head.

Yvie winced and grabbed Brooke's hand. "I kinda burst in to ask you a question and you got scared. You smacked your head against the desk when you fell and knocked yourself out."

Only one thought popped into her head.

"What was the question?"

Yvie carefully helps Brooke stand. "I wanted to know if you could teach me to waltz."

Brooke lets out a soft sigh. "Yeah I can teach you. My dad taught me."

Yvie pulls Brooke in for a hug.  "Thanks Brooke," Yvie purrs in her ear, "I owe you one."

Then she was gone, texting the time and place to Brooke.

Plastique places an ice pack on the back of Brooke's head and let out a low whistle.

"This is gonna be hot. You and Yvie alone, doing the waltz. Finding out that you love each other as you twirl her on the dance floor."

Plastique collapses dramatically on Brooke's bed. "It's like fate."

Brooke rolls her eyes as she presses the ice pack to her scalp. "Plastique, you've been reading way too much sappy fanfiction and drinking white wine."

"Its red," Plastique corrected.

Brooke shrugged. "Whatever it is. I'm just teaching her a dance. No big deal."

Plastique stood. "Ok. So the idea of waltzing with Yvie, being able to touch her, while you both wear tight dance clothes, doesn't turn you on at all?"

Brooke sat in her chair, subconsciously pressing her thighs together. "Of course not. She's like one of my best friends."

Plastique shrugged as made her way to her room. "So was Vanessa."

Brooke's mind stayed on her dream. She'd never fucked Yvie. She never even considered fucking Yvie!

She hears her own voice in her ears. You didn't think about fucking Vanessa either until you did.

Brooke shuts that part of her up. "Yvie's different," she thinks aloud.

"She's gonna be different."

[...]

A couple hours later, Brooke strode into the dance hall. She was kind of surprised to find it deserted. There were usually classes running in all the different rooms.

She walks peeks into each room before she sees Yvie stretching in one.

She stops in the doorway, watching Yvie's body contort as she stretches.

Brooke can't stop herself from dragging her gaze along Yvie's long legs, giving extra attention to her ass. Yvie goes into a backbend, thankfully with her eyes closed, and Brooke marvels at her flat stomach.

Yvie's hands find the floor and she kicks her feet back, standing on her head.

Brooke watches her muscles tense as she supported herself.

Her feet touch the floor and she's back facing the mirror again.

"Are you just gonna stare or do you wanna get this dance lesson done?"

Yvie looks over her shoulder as Brooke blushes.

"I mean I'm fine with you staring but I also wanna learn how to waltz."

Brooke walks in, shutting the door. "I wasn't staring that long."

Yvie hums in response as Brooke does her own stretching exercises.

Neither of them were really in waltzing attire. Brooke had on leggings and a tank top. Yvie had on booty shorts and a sports bra.

"Why do you wanna learn to waltz anyway?" Brooke asked as she set up the music.

Yvie sighed. "I bet A'keria that I could teach Scarlet any dance she wanted. She chose the waltz and I realized that was the only dance I didn't know."

Brooke laughs. "Even if I teach you, there is no way Scarlet's going to get it."

Yvie just shrugged. "I'm fine with losing because she's a horrible student. But it won't be because I didn't know what to teach her."

"Do you wanna lead?"

Yvie shakes her head. "Nah, it's ok. You can."

Brooke starts the music and hurries back to Yvie.

She grabs Yvie's hands, putting one of the girl's hands on her shoulder and holding the other one.

"Ok your hands go here and my mine go…" She places her free hand on Yvie's waist. Yvie's skin warms her hand.

"Jeez I know you're from Canada but do your hands have to be so cold?" Yvie jokes.

Brooke rolls her eyes as she squeezes Yvie's hip.

"Basically, just mirror my movements."

Brooke slowly moved to music. Yvie's eyes dropped down, following Brooke's steps.

Brooke continued to dance but removed her hand from Yvie's waist. She cupped Yvie's chin and brought her face up.

"You can't teach looking at the ground. Look at me. Feel the music."

They looked deep into each other's eyes. Brooke slowly starts to the music again, her hand drifting back to Yvie's waist.

Yvie stumbles over her own feet as she throws her body after Brooke's, a half beat after the music.

Brooke keeps her steps steady.

"Don't force it. Feel my hands on you. Feel my body."

Yvie sighs and does as Brooke says.

She feels the way Brooke's shoulder tensed slightly before she stepped back. The way her hand tilted before she sidestepped.

Yvie's focus drifts away. She noticed different things about Brooke.

The kindness in her eyes and the laugh lines around them. The brightness of her proud smile as Yvie slowly got the steps.

Brooke's hand was still cool on her hip. It pulled her slightly closer.

"You got it. Just like that Yves," Brooke whispers breathily.

They make their way across the floor, finally waltzing in time with music. The music started to wind down and Brooke can't help herself.

Her hands move to Yvie's back and Brooke dips her. Yvie gasps as her hands clasp around Brooke's neck.

The music plays itself out but they don't move. Yvie's ponytail holder pops, her inky locks brushing the floor.

Suddenly the music changes. The new song was slow and sexual.

"I should turn that off," Brooke whispers, her thumbs stroking Yvie's back. She doesn't move.

"Let me dance for you," Yvie whispers.

"Yes," Brooke breathes.

Yvie hooks one of her legs around Brooke's waist, relying on Brooke's support. Grabbing her other leg, Brooke stands straight, wrapping it around her waist.

Yvie tightens her grip around Brooke's neck and she starts to dance in Brooke's arms.

She throws her head back, grinding her hips into Brooke's stomach. She swings her head around before lifting herself slightly.

She's above Brooke now, peering down on her through her curls.

"There's a chair over there," Yvie whispers.

Brooke's sitting in seconds. The chair didn't have arms, giving Yvie's long legs all the room they needed.

This music seems to speak to her.

She whips her hair and gives Brooke the lap dance of her life.

She runs her hands through Brooke's hair, trailing them down to her arms.  She methodically rose and lowered her hips, grinding on Brooke with the barest amount of pressure.

"So sexy," Brooke mumbles, raising her hands to Yvie's hips.

Yvie smiles darkly. "Oh you like it when I do this?" she purrs. She grinds slightly harder but nearly as hard as Brooke would like her to.

"I'd like it better if you weren't such a tease," Brooke groans.

Yvie dips her head, her body never falling out of rhythm. She keeps her face close to Brooke's, her breath on Brooke's lips.

"You don't liked to be teased Brooke Lynn?"

A soft whimper leaves Brooke. Yvie licks her lips, the tip of her tongue slightly wetting Brooke's lip.

"That's it," the blond exclaims.

One hand pinches Yvie's ass while the other grips her neck and shoves their lips together.

Yvie moans, her hands tangling in Brooke's hair.

Brooke presses her tongue into Yvie's mouth. Yvie eagerly accepted it, sliding her tongue over Brooke's.

They break for air, Brooke's hands roaming Yvie's ass.

"Took you… Long enough," Yvie gasps.

Brooke stands with the girl in her arms and presses Yvie to the floor. Her hair stands out against the stark white floor.

"You're. Mine." Brooke purrs.

"And proud of it," Yvie smirks.

Brooke straddles her. "This is where you take one of your classes right?"

Yvie cocks an eyebrow. "Yeah, so?"

Brooke places her hands on either side of Yvie's head with a smirk. "You won't be able to walk in for a month without remembering how I fucked you into the floor."

Yvie returned her smirk. "I don't see you fucking me into the floor now."

Brooke leaned closer to Yvie. "Well let's change that."

Their lips met again, more desperately. Tongues battled for dominance. Hands wandered to every inch of available skin.

Brooke pulled up with a gasp. "Off. All of it off."

Yvie ripped her sports bra off in seconds, moaning as Brooke did the same with her tank top. Her shorts soon followed her bra about 10 feet away.

Brooke lifts her body as she stripped off her leggings and Yvie took the opportunity to pull herself up.

She kneeled in front of Brooke, burying her face in the girl's tits. Her nails dig into Brooke's ass as she sucks on Brooke's nipples.

Brooke digs her own nails into Yvie's back as she moans. Yvie releases her nipple with a soft pop.

"God I literally worship your tits," she moans, her hands leaving Brooke's ass and cupping her tits.

Brooke dipped her neck, capturing Yvie's lips again. Yvie grabs Brooke's shoulders and slowly leans backwards.

She's flat on the floor again, Brooke flush on top of her. Both of them moan as their bare skin touches.

Brooke releases Yvie's lips, focusing her attention on her pulse point. She sucks on it, intent on making a hickey while her hands drift closer to Yvie's core.

"Fuck yeah," Yvie moans, "Make me yours."

Brooke lightly runs her finger through Yvie's folds, the barest touch coating her finger. She lets go of Yvie's neck to look in her eyes.

"Aww, you're soaking,"  she purrs as she sticks the finger in her mouth.

"Brooke," Yvie whines.

A teasing glint flashes in Brooke's eyes. Once more she moves her hand down, this time running two fingers through Yvie's folds. She applies some pressure to Yvie's entrance without actually entering her.

"Brooke please fuck me!" Yvie screams desperately.

Brooke smiles. "All you had to do was ask."

She's knuckle deep in Yvie in seconds, setting a quick rhythm.

"Ah fuck!" Yvie screams as Brooke's thumb finds her clit.

Brooke kisses Yvie again, swallowing her moans as she pistons her fingers.

Yvie's fingers find Brooke's entrance and she slips two in.

They finger each other in tandem, their moans muffled by each others mouths.

"Cum with me," Brooke gasps. It was evident they were both getting close.

Yvie moans in response, grinding on Brooke's fingers while speeding up her own.

Their moans intensify. Brooke slides a third finger in and Yvie follows suit.

Yvie cums first, with Brooke not far behind. They scream each other's names, Brooke collapsing on Yvie as her hips shake.

They moan and gasp and suck hickeys on any bit of sensitive skin they can reach.

Once the aftershocks subside, Brooke rolls offs, keeping Yvie close.

"You didn't make a bet with A'keria did you?"

Yvie gave a shy smile. "No. I didn't."

Brooke nips at her ear. "Naughty girl."

Yvie leans back to look up at her. "Yours." she whispers.

Brooke kisses her softly. "Mine."

Suddenly Yvie's up and scrambling for her clothes.

"Woah! What's wrong?" Brooke calls.

Yvie yanks her shorts on. "Well for one, a class is held here in ten minutes. And two, I'm going to be late for class."

Yvie pulls her sports bra on as Brooke stands.

It's just then they realize the music is still playing.

"Well I can never listen to this song again," Brooke mumbles as she grabs her tank top.

Yvie walks over and kisses her deeply. Their hands tangle in each others hair. Their tongues slide into the now familiar cavity of each other's mouths.

Yvie pulls back, with a sigh. "I'll see you later, ok?"

Brooke smiles. "Most definitely."

Yvie grabs her bag then she's gone.

Brooke sighs as she pulls on her leggings and grabs her music.

Just as she's leaving, she sees a text.

From Even Odder: I think I forgot how to salsa. Can you give me another lesson? ;)

Brooke smiles brightly as she replies. Yvie gets the text just as she dashes into her classroom.

From Canadian Bacon: I don't know how to salsa but I can teach you new ways to tango. I think we'll start by doing it sideways ;)

Yvie smirked as she sat in her seat. She started to pay attention when her phone buzzes again.

Her eyes bug out as she sees the picture Brooke sent her. She was nude on her bed, winking at the camera.

From Canadian Bacon: This is sideways tango attire. Can't wait to see you in it ;)

Yvie was walking out of the classroom before she knew what happened.

From Even Odder: Fuck that class. I'll be there in 10 minutes. Can't wait for my next lesson. <3