#come to Orlando once I’m there please

[emlovslennon]

Ok so I have a request along the lines of the beach post you made with John and him being insecure but like reader continues to make him flustered and all blushy 🥰 I’m a sucker for flustered John

SAME HERE!!! Literally am obsessed with this

Era: 1965

Plot: basically the last post i made but with more spice bc yes.

-

You and the boys decided to take a nice trip to Orlando and enjoy a relaxing day at the Beach. It was dreadfully hot and you were all basically melting even with swim suits on. You couldn’t help but look at John, tho. He wouldn’t stop messing with his stomach and trying to pull his trunks up as high as they can go, trying to cover his stomach as much as possible.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” You ask, after making sure no one else was around and taking a swim in the ocean water.

“Wha? Oh, nothing love, I’m fine.” He stuttered, clearly not fine.

“Johnny, there’s clearly something wrong. Come on, let’s go inside.” You said, reaching your hand out for him to grab, and you both entered the hotel room you both shared. Once inside, John immediately tried searching for a shirt to put on, but you stopped him.

“Love, please let go.” He said, as calm as he possibly could, but you didn’t budge.

“No, I’m not. You’re perfect, John. I see the way you tried to hide yourself every-time we take a trip like this, but you don’t need to. You’re still the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes one back in art school.” You said, trailing your hands down his body, John looked at you completely flustered, his face a crimson red and his body slowly relaxing to your touch.

“Birdie… I-“

“Sh, John, let me take care of you, please?” You said softly, John nodded frantically and you couldn’t help but giggle, you slowly laid him on the bed and got on top of him, your lips connected and you, wanting to push the limits a bit, slightly yanked at his hair, causing John to let out a surprised moan. You then moved to his neck, making sure to not leave bruises just for the sake of the others seeing, and Brian would kill him if he dared to go on stage with his lovers hickeys all over him. John’s breath started getting more ragged as your lips traveled from his neck to his stomach, until you reached the start of his trunks, but John grabbed your hair and pulled at it, causing your head to go up.

“Birdie, you’re fucking killing me. I can’t wait like this.” John whispered as he slightly pushed you off and took off his trunks, you then removed your bikini as John used his fingers to do a “come hither” motion and patted his thighs. You got back up as you slowly sink down, even after all your years together, he never fails to not stretch you out, every time felt like the first time with him.

“Fuck, you’re such a good little girl for me, you treat me so well, take me well too.” He whispered as he bucked his hips into you, causing you to moan loudly.

“I’m so proud to be yours, Johnny” you managed to get out without moaning, you both stared deeply into each others eyes, John smiled and kissed your face all over. John’s panting then turned into grunts as he began to go faster, basically pounding into you, your control was starting to fade, but you couldn’t help but mentally give yourself a high five for making him basically melt for you.

“Come on, baby, I can feel you’re getting close, good girl, my little girl, cum for me.” He groaned, your moans were pretty much pornographic, basically screaming for him. And then, the final straw for you was when he slightly grabbed your neck, you screamed his name as you came, your legs violently shaking. John smirked, like it was a job well done. John thrusted a few more times until he came inside you with a loud moan. You couldn’t help but stare as he came down from his high, his hair was completely disheveled, his cheeks were flushed red and slightly pink, and his mouth hung open. You couldn’t help but be completely amazed by it.

“We should probably go back.” You giggled, completely wore out. John helped you get up and get your bikini back on, your legs were like putty, and almost losing your balance from how wobbly they were. As soon as John put his trunks back on, your hearts both stopped as you heard the door knock.

“Hey, are you guys okay? I heard screaming.”

It was Ringo.

-

BAHHA poor Ringo my boy😭BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT I TRIED MY BEST I did wanna have a mix of dom john tho bc dude like AHHHH but yes yes here you are

[milfswriter]

Is this heaven?

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Summary: you’re back after a hiatus, Rhea’s emotional.

Notes and warnings: this is legit ao3 material. Childhood best friends to lovers, angst with happy ending, car accident, blood, near death experience, reunion, confession, semi public sex (it’s outdoor but nobody’s there??), daddy kink, thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, bruh this has angst, fluff, smut whatever you need LMAO. a little long? P.S I do not take pride in my writing abilities so PLZ don’t judge I write for fun lool also this has been briefly proofread so ignore any mistakes.

Word Count: 3.2K

You sat with your knees hugged to your chest as your breathed in the unusually cold, fresh air of Orlando on the very edge of the very familiar hill. You knew this place, you loved this place. 

You watched the small cars pass by before memories of this place started playing in your head. You’ve been on a very long hiatus due to an accident. Having been sent to Tokyo for specialized physiotherapy, you couldn’t see any of your friends or family for the past year and a half and came today for the elimination chamber PPV to say hi to your friends, having no plans of a return anytime soon.

As your memories of this place played, you realized that they were all connected to the same person. The person you wanted to see the most, the person you loved the most (not that you’d ever admit it). You heard crackling of leaves behind you but paid it no mind, it was 6 am, no one would be here.

 You wished this specific person would show up magically behind and- “Hoped I’d find ya here” a very familiar voice said and you gasped lightly, having no guts to turn around and look her in the eye. 

You stood up with a smile, taking a deep breath in before turning around and looking her in the eye, you looked the tall woman up and down with a hum.

 “You’ve grown even taller, how is that possible?” you questioned jokingly before you saw her features tremble, scoffing before rushing to you and almost crushing you in her arms, your legs dangling in the air. 

“hello, to you too, Demi” you said, your voice muffled by her shoulder. “shut up” she groaned, clearly crying now because you were starting to feel her tears on your shoulder.

Ok, now you were crying, too. “you’re..you’re walking?” she put you down and stepped back a few steps to see you standing straight and let out a relieved sigh, wiping her tears. 

“yeah, I’m okay Demi” she gulped, scanning you. She walked to you again, pulling you into her more gently now. “That day you weren’t” she whispered, now that she wasn’t pulling you up, your temple was now resting on her collarbone.

You closed your eyes, nodding as a different kind of memories played in rhea’s mind. 

Rhea waited impatiently for you on the couch as the others played monopoly, you were supposed to be here half an hour ago. She went to the kitchen, dialing your phone and it rang once, twice, three times before you answered. 

“D...Demi..” you gasped for air, causing Rhea to furrow her eyebrows in confusion. “y/n, where are you? you were supposed to be at Alexa’s a long time ago, wait, are you running?” she chuckled before you started muttering weird sounds.

“Y/n? are..are you okay?” she heard your sobs, it sounded like you were in pain, like..like you couldn’t breath. “Y/n answer me!!” she yelled into the phone causing Sonya to get into the kitchen. “chill out, man..we’re just starting, don’t rush her” she brushed Sonya off. 

She heard you gather all your strength in a breath before muttering barely coherently. “I crashed my..car..at..the light next to Alexa’s, p..please”.

“I’m coming..I’m coming right now, don’t close your eyes, keep breathing!” she ran out of the apartment, confusing everyone there before calling 911. Meanwhile, your car’s personal assistant was the only way you could have answered that call. 

“Incoming call from RheRhe , answer it?” Mercedes asked, “y..yes” you mumbled and sighed in relief, tears running down your cheeks as it understood you and answered the call. 

Rhea ran and ran until she saw the light and your car swerved into a wall, the hood completely smashed and a car behind yours that looked like it hit you so hard you swerved into that wall. 

“oh god..y..y/n?” she called before running to your door, seeing the glass smashed and opened the door, your face so bloody she only recognized you by your ‘Brutality’ t-shirt, which was originally hers but you decided to keep it, making it even harder for her to deal with this. 

“love?” she called, taking off her jacket and wiping the blood off your face with it. “Y/n please answer me” she heard the deafening sounds of ambulance and police sirens and picked you up with a great effort, not caring about the shreds of glass piercing her skin. 

“oh..he..hey Dee” you smiled up at her in a failed attempt to comfort her. Like you were accepting your fate. “It’s o..okay, d..demi” she looked around for any sign of the ambulance but they were none. She looked at you with her lips trembling, shaking her head.

“no, no it’s not! IT’S NOT OKAY! Yo..You can’t just leave me here!” her tears refused to dry and her vision began to blur. You gave her another smile, gulping in pain as you tried to move so you can face her. “is..is it because you never taught me your prism trap?..it..it’s okay..I’m..not mad...and you shouldn’t be either..” Rhea scoffed a laugh, she couldn’t believe you were joking at a time like this. 

“I’ll teach you my prism trap, just stay alive for me so I can do that, hm?” she heard the sirens from a distance and tried to keep you alert. She snapped her fingers in front of you, making you jolt awake as you closed your eyes.  

“remember when we met? hm?” she started, smiling at relief as you nodded. you’re still conscious. good. “we were kids..god, you were cocky” you let out a breathy laugh. she nodded with a small smile, you knew what she was doing and you were grateful because you felt yourself slipping.

“tell me more” she held your hand and kissed it, removing bits of glass that landed on the back of your hand when she saw the main source of bleeding, your side. 

She let you keep talking before she lifted the hem of your shit to see blood oozing out and you winced. “I’ve got you, we’ve got to stop the bleeding, okay? help is on the way” she applied pressure and you screamed in pain, scratching and pushing on her.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re in pain” she felt her tears running down her cheeks again as your hands went to squeeze her biceps, whimpering. As she saw the red and blue lights of the ambulance, she held you in her arms, not caring about the shreds of glass that pierced her skin in the meantime. 

Demi couldn’t remember you ever being this heavy, she’s picked you up countless of times, giving you piggyback rides after your matches as a tag team. you were a flyer, she saw you do the most perfect moonsaults and splashes so she assumed it was her knees that threatened to betray her as she saw your condition. She ran with you to the stretcher that the paramedic pulled out of the car, placing you on it as she explained to him what had happened to you and notified him about the source of bleeding.

you closed your eyes, hearing her pleading for you to wake up but you couldn’t open your eyes anymore. The next time you did, you were in an empty room. Hospital, you quickly deduced as you saw the countless IVs and bandages covering your body. “Oh..” You heard and looked up, seeing a nurse coming in with a clipboard. “you’re finally awake” she smiled gently, “can you hear me?” she added after a few seconds have gone by and you still hadn’t said anything.

You nodded, “good..good” she nodded at you. You felt her move closer to you, placing the clipboard somewhere before she stood directly next to your bed. “can you squeeze my hand?” you felt her her hand engulf yours and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, trying to move your hand but it’s like you couldn’t find the right wire in your brain to do so. 

The nurse pursed her lip in empathy before letting go of your hand. You let out a sound of desperation as you finally gained control of your hand and chasing hers, squeezing the tips of her fingers. “There you go, you’re okay” she smiled.

you cleared your throat, which was way too dry. “h..how...long..” she seemed to understand what you meant, nodding. “you’ve been in a coma for a couple of weeks” your eyes widened. You’ve been out for weeks?.

“your family and friends are here to visit you, though they’re a little early for visiting hours. I will let them in after I call the doctor” you nodded.

-------

After the doctor checked on you, the door was opened by the nurse who was followed by a running Rhea, panting as she grinned at you. “You’re awake!” she giggled, hugging you way too gently. “h..hi demi” you croaked out and she leaned down to kiss your forehead. “hello, possum” she cupped your bruised cheek.

“are you sure they’re not dating?” the nurse asked Sonya who was lurking in the back. “I know, right?!” Rhea turned to glare at her before turning back to you. 

“your parents went to get coffee before they told us you were awake, they’ll be here in a jiffy, hm?” you nodded with a smile. To be honest, you were glad you were not dead, because the way she looked at you right now made you feel things you never thought were possible to feel. 

------

you were leaving for Tokyo. The doctors said there was nothing they could do for you here to regain normal mobility. “I’ll never walk again” Demi shushed you. “of course you will! that’s why you’re going there, no? you’ll be completely fine and you’ll walk to me the day you come back, okay?” You nodded, you didn’t know what you’d do if you didn’t have Rhea in your life.

she drove you to the airport, and held your hand until the last second before you were supposed to find your terminal, where she wasn’t allowed in without a boarding pass. “I’ll miss you” Your lips trembled and she nodded, hugging you. “I’ll miss you, my possum” she kissed your temple before letting you go.

 “get better for me” you nodded, limping to your terminal. You turned around one more time to see Rhea from afar with tears soaking her face. You gulped, your eyes burning before taking a deep breath and turning back around, pulling your suitcase.

After 1 year and 3 months, you’ve finally regained complete mobility and they’ve also cleared you out to wrestle. You booked the nearest flight to Orlando and said nothing to your friends and family. And here you are, in your favorite place of all.

“That day I wasn’t” you affirmed,  you stepped back a little and lifted your shirt, showing her the remaining scar of the surgery on your side. “at least I still got this bad boy” you smirked and she giggled, “it does look cool hm?” you nodded. 

She looked like she had something on her mind, but you didn’t say anything as you pulled her down to lay with you on the grass to watch the sunrise. you linked hands, your head falling onto her shoulder as you watched the city being lit by the enormous sun. “I..need to tell you something” she stammered for a bit and she looked away. “Is everything ok?” you were starting to worry, she was fine moments ago.“Everything’s great..you’re here” she smiled nervously, turning to look at the sky.

“Y/n, I um..I’ve known you for over a decade. Yeah?” you nodded, smiling. “And um..you’re my best friend” she bit her lip, contemplating on whether to spit it out or not.

 “Demi, what’s wrong? Are you dying?” you whispered and she looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. “No, y/n..I’m not dying, it’s just…all those years we were friends, I wished we weren’t..” you raised your eyebrows in surprise, was that how she felt?.

“Every time I saw you, I wished we were something more, I wished I could protect you from all these bitches that hurt you..and I can’t forgive myself for letting you drive that day instead of just taking you with me. y/n/n I..I can’t believe it took me all those years to realize that I am so, so in love with you” she rambled and you kept your head on her shoulder, gasping softly.

“All this time I think I was bound to fall in love with you. It was only a matter of when and where..and it was that day,..we were at Wrestlemania, and…we were watching Lita in her match and…you looked so happy when she won.. you hugged me so hard and I didn’t want it to stop. I wore that hoodie for days after because it smelled like you..we were kids..and I was in love you...and now we’re older..and I’m still in love you” she took a deep breath and your eyes were tearing up. 

“you don’t feel the same, I know that..I kept telling everyone that. But it’s physically painful for me to keep that from you any longer than I had, you don’t have to do or say anything, I just wanted to-” she was cut off by your lips on hers as you straddled her lap, leaning down to kiss her so she would stop saying all these things. She hummed, her hands automatically going to your waist under your shirt.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily. “is that an enough explanation of how I feel?” you asked, and she nodded, shrugging. “I can live with that” she sat up, giggling as she kissed you again, and again. “I can’t believe you almost died and I still couldn’t tell you” you joined your foreheads.

“It’s okay..I love you, too” You smiled, kissing her again before wrapping your arms around her neck, playing with the ends of her short hair. You both stared into each other’s souls, this couldn’t get any better. Or so you thought. 

She moved her hands from your waist to your thighs, squeezing them as she peppered kisses over your jawline, making her way down to your neck. “you..are so beautiful” she whispered in your ear, you felt a familiar sensation between your legs, and the rough material of her jeans didn’t make this any better.

You started testing the waters, moving your hips back and forth against her, your hands gripping her shirt from the back as she chuckled, her breath tingling your ear. “naughty girl” she tutted, holding your hips in place, making you moan. 

“you want this?” she asked, looking you in the eye. You’ve never seen this version of Rhea, but you were glad you are cause she couldn’t be any hotter than right now. 

You nodded furiously, “please” you whimpered. A smirk placed itself on her face, her hands making their way to your ass. She suddenly flipped your positions, your head making a soft thud as it landed on the grass. “please what?” her smirk turned into something you couldn’t recognize, but oh did you love it.

Her knee placed itself between your legs, spreading them. “please, fuck me..daddy” her eyes darkened before smashed her lips against yours in a moan. “god, I want you so bad” she groaned, sneaking her hand to your pants, unbuttoning it, pulling the zipper down painfully slow.

You dreamed of this moment for so long, you didn’t wanna wait anymore. “please, Demi!” you urged her and she complied, leaning her head down to whisper filth into your ear. 

“yeah? you want my fingers, darling? right here..where anyone could see us? ” she breathed heavily as you felt her hand sneak into your pants, you heard her whine into your ear as she felt your slick pussy.

You threw your head back against the grass, “all for me?” she asked, kissing your jawline as she pressed her middle finger against your clit, you gripped her shirt from the back, god it’s been so long and now that it’s with Rhea, you never wanted it to stop. 

Rhea took a deep breath in, taking her hand out of your pants, making you whine desperately. “Can I take it off, possum?” she smiled, her hands resting on your knees as she got off you and sat on knees in front of you. You nodded, silently hoping no one makes their way up this hill and sees you.

“I am going to worship you” she smirked, pulling your pants along with your panties down your legs, throwing them aside and spreading your legs. She froze for a second as she saw your glistening heat. You felt your cheeks heat up as she stared but you kept your legs spread.

she leaned down, keeping eye contact with you as she used her thumbs to spread your labia, licking a long, hard stripe from your entrance to your clit and you let out a guttural moan. You ran your hand through her hair, pulling on her scalp as she ate you out.

she hummed against your pussy, closing her eyes as she sucked the life out of you. “please, daddy” your other hand pulled on her hair, too and she sneaked one of her hands to your mouth, her middle and ring finger stroked your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, taking them in your mouth to the knuckles.

She took them out of your mouth, before thrusting them back in, practically fucking your mouth. She took them out again, lining them up with your entrance and sliding them in, bottoming out instantly. 

“fffuck” you moaned, letting go of her hair before you rip it out. gripping the grass next to you instead. 

She fucked her fingers in and out of your pussy. “god you’re so fucking tight, love” she kissed your inner thigh, “Oh, I wish I had my strap right now”.

Just picturing her fucking you senseless with her cock made your pussy clench impossibly tight against her fingers. “yes..yes..I’m..Oh god, I’m cumming!” she fucked you even harder, wrapping her lips back around your clit, licking it in circular motion. 

you couldn’t help but pull on her hair again, breathing heavily as she curled her fingers inside you, screaming her name as your orgasm washed over you as you closed your eyes tightly. she chuckled against your thigh, sitting up on her knees and kissing you softly. You groaned as you tasted yourself, pulling her by the back of her neck to kiss you harder. “is this heaven?” you mumbled, opening your eyes. 

“Would you stop with the death jokes? seriously” she frowned and you let out a howl, throwing your head back as you giggled. “I’m sorry, come here” you wrapped your arms around her, hugging her close.

you sneaked your hand to her zipper before she stopped you. “not here..I’d like to worship you better at home first” you smiled at the thought of seeing your shared house again. 

She peppered kisses all over your face, smoothing your hair out of your face. “I love you” she mumbled shyly and you chuckled, “love you” you kissed her lips again and she helped you put your pants back on.

She stood up, giving you her hand to pull up before picking you up bridal style. She froze as she looked into your eyes. What you didn’t know was that she was holding your bloody form in the same way a year and a half ago.

“I..I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asked, gulping. You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head. “no..no it was perfect” she cupped her cheek. she nodded, a small smile appearing on her face before she took you to her car and drove you home.

This definitely wasn’t the way you thought today was gonna go, but you definitely weren’t complaining. :)

[seidigardensystem]

Your Words Matter

Dear Therapists,

I had just logged into a Zoom session for my Diagnosing Pathology class and my cohort was in deep discussion with one particular student as we all waited for our professor. This student in particular was already working in some sort of clinical setting, not yet giving therapy, but a new client profile had come across her desk with a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder. She didn’t know much about the diagnosis herself, but she was concerned because her boss said, “Whoa, good luck with that one. Borderlines are very difficult to work with.”

Difficult. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that word. Every time I hear a professional utter the word, “difficult” when referencing a client it stings. Is that how you really see us? As patients/clients that are stuck in a downward spiral whose struggles are too much for you to handle? Don’t you believe in what you do and that there is hope for us?

My heart breaks for whoever this person is that has borderline personality disorder because the cards have been stacked against them before they’ve even gotten started. One of my school assignments required me to write about working with a difficult population and this was my response:

“If we get the idea that a particular diagnosis or population is difficult to work with it feels like we are setting ourselves up for failure. Maybe we will treat them differently or have lower expectations or refuse to work with them because we have a negative perception.”

In 2022, I attended the Healing Together conference hosted by An Infinite Mind in Orlando, Florida. I was sitting in a session where I could hear and learn about lived experiences with dissociation and an excerpt from a book was read aloud as an example of how some clinicians view dissociative identity disorder. The presenter who read the excerpt was sad, the audience was sad, and I felt infuriated. The gist of the excerpt talked about how a clinician should be wary because clients with dissociative identity disorder are difficult to work with and that they bring unsolvable problems to therapy.

Unsolvable problems? Listen, if a client’s problem was easy to solve, they wouldn’t need therapy! Of course we are bringing our unsolvable problems to you. We believe in your ability to help us. We were trusting you enough to share our struggles. When we hear you call us difficult, challenging, resistant, and a myriad of other words, you break our trust and confidence.

My ask of you is that you reframe your perspective of difficult clients. My therapist always says that behavior is communication, so when you find a client’s behavior particularly difficult, ask yourself, “What is my client trying to tell me?” “What does my client need right now?” Seek out peer consultation or supervision without passing judgment on how difficult a client is for you.

I’ve always carried around my own judgment about myself as a client in therapy. I used to tell my therapist, “Thank you for putting up with me” and her response was, “There’s nothing to put up with.” When I had the opportunity to watch her present at a conference once, I went up to her just before it started to tell her she’d do a great job. She just smiled and said, “Everything I’m presenting today, I learned from you.” I thought about that for a long time. Not once, in our years of therapy had she ever shown any indication of frustration, feeling challenged, or felt I was difficult. She simply adapted her interventions as needed.

The NICABM posted back on June 11, 2022 on their Facebook page a quote from Pat Ogden, PhD; “When we call clients resistant or difficult, it’s because our interventions are not working and we feel incompetent.” As clients, we don’t think you’re incompetent. We think there’s something wrong with us and we believe you when we hear you say we’re difficult. So, please, choose carefully. Your words matter.

Sincerely,

A DID Client

References

NICABM. (2022, June 11). What may at first seem like opposition or resistance can often signal a client’s deepest struggles. [Status Update]. [Image attached]. Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/NICABM/photos/10159170676011314

[tornrose24]

Doodles of my trip to Universal Studios Hollywood.

-My family and I had to wake up early to get to the park when it opened at 8 AM in order to ride the Mario Kart ride ASAP before the line got too long (For those planning on going, or are waiting for the version in Florida, I would keep this in mind if I were you). It had a couple of issues when we reached Bowser’s castle on the second floor, but it was worth the wait. The ride is a lot of fun, and the best part is Rainbow Road where you truly feel like you are speeding along it.

-Next, I rode the Revenge of the Mummy ride. Unfortunately, I did not know it was an indoor roller coaster and while there were no big drops or loops, I was a ‘bit’ traumatized during and after it. This did not help me in deciding whether or not to ride the Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey (I did not, because I was under the wrong impression as to how the ride operates).

-Rode the Transformers ride next. I enjoyed it and was happy to see Bumblebee. However, there’s not much support for your head and neck, which will start hurting if you aren’t careful with how you sit in the vehicle.

-I was lucky enough to ride Mario Kart a second time during the evening and I was better able to take in Bowser’s room, as well as his throne. I’m about 5 feet, two inches, and could easily fit a third of that throne. This made me realize how large Bowser would be compared to a human. Too bad the big guy himself isn’t a meet and greet at the moment, nor can you sit on the throne, but I wouldn’t attempt it if I were you. Speaking of… please don’t cut to the front of the line like some people did. That really sucked.

-I was debating on it, but among the souvenirs I bought, I got a Princess Peach headband for my inner child and wore it for most of my time there. A few others got one too, and I can’t tell you how many people I saw wearing Yoshi or Bowser hats.

-I recommend doing the studio tour at least once. When I came to the Nope set, the lights went crazy like in the film, and for a second I was panicking and trying to remember how to evade the alien. There were some other gems that I won’t mention, but they did have the building with the clock from Back to the Future.

-I sadly was unable to meet most of the characters, because you have to wait 30 minutes in advance before they come out, and then the line is closed off. But I was able to meet Penelope and Jaques of the Toothsome Chocolate Emporium (a steampunk restaurant with great milkshakes that is in both Hollywood and Orlando). It was fun to finally meet with them and they were delighted to know I had the Red Velvet Milkshake. Also, it turns out Penelope isn’t too fond of the Grinch, LOL. (Cute side story-one kid who met the two before me had a Spiderman shirt, and Jaques did the web shooting hand gesture with him.)

[birdofdawning]

Sleepovers

So I had an idea for a cute follow-up to Sleepovers, but then it turned into some sort of therapeutic exercise, so I might try for the cute story again in a few days.

This is set after the show ends, and has a whisper of reluctant sex.

Chapter 2

This isn’t weird at all. Myka puts down her coffee and smiles at Helena, who arches an eyebrow back at her.

“Sorry to just turn up.”

Helena waves her hand. “Nonsense. I was very pleased to receive your call.”

“Well, good. Yeah, Pete and I were uh, out in the field,” she glances at the other customers sitting around them and Helena nods her understanding, “and the trail lead to both here and Orlando so we split up. And Orlando turned out to be the right call. So Pete’s heading back to the um, office, job done, and I realized I had seven hours waiting around in San Francisco before my flight, so…” She makes a tah da gesture.

Helena smiles. “And here you are.”

“And here I am.” Myka looks around them at the outdoor café and busy street. “So, you’re enjoying it? Living here?”

“Very much.” Helena takes a sip of her drink. Myka missed the name of it but it smells of chocolate and cinnamon. She supposes things like this would once have been big treats for Helena, then realises that, growing up under Warren Bering’s roof, they were once big treats for her.  

She searches for the next thing to say. “And work is…?”

“Good.”

Myka nods. “Good. That’s good. A tech start-up, yeah?”

“That’s right.”

Myka isn’t sure how to handle this version of Helena. She’s not the charming schemer, nor the furious women blinded by grief, nor the remorseful friend constantly seeking Myka’s reassurance. She’s remote. A polite acquaintance. Making Myka work for everything. Myka hates it, and spitefully decides to let the silence linger for a bit.

After a moment Helena stirs, sliding her fingers up through her hair. Myka watches it fall back into place like black silk. “And the old firm? Still going strong I assume?”

Myka blinks. “Oh. Oh, yes! Yes, for now.” At Helena’s raised eyebrows Myka carries on. “There’s a strong possibility that we’ll… the ‘old firm’ will be relocating to new premises.”

“Oh!” Helena looks surprised. “But that means…”

“Yeah, we’ll be out of a job. If it happens. But honestly, the logistics of the move, all the inventory needed, and organising the packing and transportation of everything… well, that will take years, and, you know, that sort of stuff’s really in my wheelhouse. So I’m assuming I don’t need to brush off my resume just yet.”

“You will miss it.”

Myka’s not sure if that’s a question or a statement, but she says “Oh yeah. Of course. God, yes.”

Helena looks out across the street at a small park. There is a fountain there, and people in suits sitting on the grass, eating their lunches and looking at their phones. It’s a lovely day.

“Myka, I have a meeting this afternoon, but then I’m free. Why don’t you and l have dinner and properly catch-up? There will be planes to catch tomorrow too.”

“Oh!” She opens and closes her mouth, squelches the fireflies that are suddenly inside her, and says “No, I… I really I couldn’t. You know how Artie is about unnecessary accommodation allowances. And all the cheaper hotels are further out—”

“You’d stay with me, of course.”

“What would I say to him? How would I explain—”

“Very bad traffic, and a missed flight.”

“Helena! I can’t lie to Artie!”

“You won't be. There is very bad traffic. You will miss your flight.”

They stare at each other.

“Okay,” says Myka.

“Right.” Helena finishes her drink in one draught and stands up. “You and I are taking a stroll. Come on.” She begins to stride off, hands in her pockets.

“What?” Myka takes a few desperate slips coffee, then abandons the cup and hurries after her friend. “We could have gotten those to go!”

“And added to our carbon footprint? I think not.” Helena scans the street then leads the way across to the park. “Come along now!”

This is more like the real H. G. Wells, the one she still imagines going on cases with if things had been different: the two of them bouncing ideas off each other, and maybe showing off a little too. The H. G. who would shout ‘the game’s afoot, Bering!’ and ask if Myka had her service pistol ready, just to make her laugh.

“Don’t you have to get back to work? You said you had a meeting?” says Myka as she catches up to the prowling Helena.

“I have the time,” says Helena, briskly. “No, what I’m interested in right now is a Myka Bering who, against all agency protocol, chooses to delay her return back to base for her debrief and report. She seems like a very curious person indeed.”

“I…” Myka stumbles on the path and has to catch herself from falling. Straightening, she finds Helena stopped in front of her, waiting. “You said you wanted to catch up! We haven’t seen each other—”

“We haven’t seen each other for fifteen months. The odd text has suffused until today. But now you and Pete split up while in the field and you come here, to San Francisco. During a retrieval, no less! You left Pete — Pete! — alone to potentially handle an artefact, and I do mean handle an artefact.”

“Sometimes it happens that way! Often! We split up and interview different people, or look at crime scenes! You know that!”

“You don’t fly to different parts of the country, Myka. Steve and Claudia or whoever would normally come out here while you followed the primary lead.”

“Well not this time! Look, I don’t know where this is going, Helena!”

Helena steps forward and gently takes her chin as she examines her face. “Myka, you’re very well made up, even more than usual; anyone who didn’t know you probably wouldn’t see how tired you are.”

Myka wrenches her head away. “Well thank-you for the complement! Hey, you know what, I think I’m gonna take a raincheck on dinner after all. Excuse me.” She turns, ready to stomp back to the street.

“Myka, why don’t you want to go back to the Warehouse?”

Myka whirls around. Hands in her pockets, Helena stands impassively as she awaits an answer. “I do want to go back to the Warehouse! I just… I wanted to see you! I haven’t… we haven’t…” And to her absolute mortification she hears a sob come from deep within her body.

Helena’s face softens. “Oh my darling girl. Come here.” And Myka is enveloped in a fierce hug. Her nose is in Helena’s hair and it smells of violets and there are tears in Myka’s eyes and she puts her arms around Helena and—

Helena steps away, and she’s pulling Myka by the hand. “There’s a seat over there, under that tree. Come along.” When they reach it she sits unhesitatingly, and pats beside her for Myka. “Sit. And talk to me. What's happened?”

Tentatively Myka sits. “It’s… Look it’s nothing. Everyone else seems fine. I don’t know why I’m the only one still upset.” She tries to laugh. “I’m being silly. I just need a break.”

“Myka.”

Myka sighs and looks at her feet. “There was an artifact. It… rejigged memories, feelings.”

“Alright. And you were affected”

“We all were. All of us. Even Mrs Frederick, I think.” There’s that small worry again, that doubt. She pushes it down.

Helena waits. But she places a gentle hand on Myka’s back.

“It changed things. Artie thought he had a son. They had a whole history together, a life and everything. And afterwards he realised that he didn’t and… well, now he’s acting even more…” Helena’s hand, which had been gently rubbing her back, has gone still. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Their changes were more… I don’t know. I don’t think it was as bad. Claudia suddenly decided that she didn’t want to be the caretaker, but now she’s okay with it again. Pete’s thing was fine…” She shivers, and she knows Helena has noticed.

“No matter. What about the others?”

“And you?”

Myka looks out at the fountain. “I thought I was in love with Pete. Like romantically in love with him.”

Helena is very still. “And Pete?”

“He… Honestly I think he might have just been going along with it. I mean, no, god, that sounded awful.” She takes a moment. “I do love Pete, and he loves me. We’ve been through so much together. And I think when I was suddenly there kissing him and telling him that I loved him he, uh, got mixed up?”

“Did he.”

Myka grasps Helena’s other hand. “No, listen, Pete was the one who… Just listen, there’s more.” She takes a deep breath. Then another. Then another. Helena looks mildly amused.

“Time to exhale, Myka.” And she does. Helena starts rubbing soothing circles into her back. “You don’t have to tell me anything, you know. Or not yet. But I think maybe you came here—”

“To talk to you. Yes, I think maybe I did. To the one person who wasn’t there.”

“Mmm,” murmurs Helena noncommittally. “Go slow, and stop if you think you need to.”

Some joggers come past, disturbing a flock of doves that had been foraging the nearby grass. Myka watches them fly over her head, up into the tree behind them. “They don’t roost overhead — the bench is clean,” says Helena, “I checked before we sat down.”

And Myka giggles. “I always wondered how you stayed so neat and tidy all the time.”

“Preparation, observation, and common sense,” announces Helena primly. “When I was young laundry wasn’t as trivial a matter as it is today.” And then she leans close and confides in an undertone: “The real secret is letting other people go into grimy places first.” And suddenly she’s Myka’s Helena again, the swaggering charmer of the past.

“Did you ever invent a shrink ray?” asks Myka.

“What? No. What?” says Helena.

“We remembered — well, Steve remembered and then we all did — you inventing a shrink ray, and shrinking him and Claudia down in a submersible you built called the Nautilus III.”

To her delight Helena draws herself up, bristling with outrage. “Possibly Mr Jinks’ subconscious has mistaken me for some other Nineteenth Century futurist — I mention no names. I certainly created no such vehicle, in fiction or reality! Nautilus III indeed,” she mutters darkly.

“I suspect his subconscious was thinking of The Fantastic Voyage.”

“I don’t know what that is,” sniffs Helena, “And I suspect you are procrastinating. Which you are allowed to do,” she adds quickly, and here’s the earnest, remorseful Helena of the past too.

“You’re right. I am.” Again Myka takes a breath. “I, we, Pete and I, thought we were in love. And we… went to bed together.” She can see Helena tensing, “Okay, so nothing happened in the end! We didn’t… Pete realised.” She shuts her eyes. “We were in bed, kissing and stuff, and then… Pete said ‘Myka, why are you crying?’. Because I was. I was crying, I couldn’t stop. And he backed off right away. I mean, I was saying—” She can feel herself trembling, and Helena’s arm is around her again, cradling her, “I was saying ‘I’m not, I’m happy, I love you, I… I want this.’ And Pete said—” she lets out a sob of relief. “Pete said ‘No, something’s wrong’. And then he worked it all out. And he fixed it.”

Helena gives Myka a tight squeeze. “Good. Well done that boy.”

Myka bows her head and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “Yeah, so it was okay. In the end. Just, you know, embarrassing. But Pete had my back, like always. Like I have his.” Then the tears hit again. “Jesus, Helena, it could have been so bad—"

“But it wasn’t. Your partner kept his head and prevented it.” She reaches up to wipe away Myka’s tears with her fingers. “There now, my dear,” she whispers, “enough of all this nonsense! Dry your eyes!”

“You’re supposed to let people cry now,” sniffs Myka.

“Are you,” says Helena, but she lets Myka lean into her, and rubs her shoulder, and waits until she’s composed herself.

“Okay, yes, that could have been bad, but it wasn’t,” says Myka when she’s ready.

“It’s not what’s bothering you.”

“No. No.” She doesn’t know how to explain this. “It’s… I announced that I was in love with Pete, right? And everyone went along with it. Me and Pete! Like, sure, that’s perfectly normal! Of course Myka is in love with Pete, yeah, her behaviour during all the years we have known her tells us that obviously she’s secretly been in love with him the whole time!”

“Oh lord,” says Helena.  

Myka throws her arms in the air. “And it’s not their fault! They were affected too! I don’t know why I can’t let this go!”

Helena sits back and looks up into the tree. “Trust is a fragile thing. A lesson hard learned.”

“It’s just… well, Pete was able to see it was all wrong, so why not anyone else? Am I that…” she waves her fingers around furiously, trying to find the word, “that… princessy?”

Helena lets out a surprised bark of laughter.

“Myka!” she says, reaching for both of Myka’s hands, “Out of everyone I have ever met, in one-hundred and forty-eight years, you are by far the least princessy.”

Myka’s not sure how to take that. “Well, I mean, I like nice things! I like to look pretty!” she says.

“You are a striking woman,” agrees Helena. “But to my point: I’ve never known you to need rescuing. Or to hide demurely while others fight for you. Or shy away from necessary work.”

“Until today.”

Helena waves her objection aside. “Oh pooh. I believe you can be forgiven for today. But you’ve always been clear that you’ve never needed to be looked after by anyone else. Not your parents, not Sam, not Pete, not even me.”

Myka’s heart does something complicated inside her chest. “Not you?”

“I mention myself merely as a point of contrast,” explains Helena, “to add perspective. Did you say Mrs Frederick was there?”

Because of course Helena would put her finger on the other thing that was bothering Myka. “Yes. She was.”

“I see.”

A cold chill goes down Myka’s body and rests in her belly. “But she can be affected by artifacts too, right?”

Helena shrugs. “As far as I know, yes. But…” She trails off, still staring up into the branches.

“But she would know she was affected?”

“Maybe. Unless the Warehouse prevented her from knowing.”

Myka waves her hands around. “See! This is what’s making me crazy! Of course I trust Mrs Frederick! And the Warehouse! But… I just keep thinking were they secretly totally fine with letting me believe I was in love with Pete. Was it some long game? Was the Warehouse wanting to play happy families with us? Argh!” She pulls at her hair in frustration. “And I know that the simplest answer is just that Mrs Frederick was affected by the artifact too! There is no mystery! No conspiracy!”

Helena is silent, thinking, and Myka takes a moment to catch her breath. “There really isn’t any conspiracy, Helena,” she says after a moment. “Don’t start… investigating or anything.”

Helena gives herself a shake. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Oh,” says Myka, and then “Why not?”

Helena smiles and shrugs. “Not allowed.”

“What?”

Leaning away, with elbows resting on the back of the seat, Helena closes her eyes and lets the sun warm her face. “My freedom, such as it is, is conditional on certain stipulations. And one of those stipulations is that I am forbidden to involve myself in Warehouse affairs, or to fraternise with its agents.”

“Fraternise with...?”

Helena opens one eye to see how she is reacting to this news. “I suspect they had you in mind with that last bit.”

“But you asked us to Boon! You agreed to meet me today!”

Helena looks annoyed. “If you recall I tried to stay out of that whole business in Boon!”

“So why did you meet me today, then?”

“There is such a thing as common courtesy, Myka.”

They glare at each other for a long moment. Then Helena looks away and Myka’s brain starts working again. All those long months without contact. The sleepless nights trying to work out exactly where she’d gone wrong, what she could have done differently. The cool demeanour earlier. That lingering absence in her life. It was all because—

“But I agree,” says Helena, following her own thoughts, “it seems unlikely that Mrs Frederick would have conspired to bring you and Pete together so as to emmesh you even further into the Warehouse’s affairs.”

Focusing again, Myka nods. “She’s not like that.”

“Oh, she’s absolutely like that. But she’s also intelligent; it’s obvious that you and Pete could never work as paramours. She’d have chosen someone else, someone more logical.”

Myka can feel her face warming, but gives a casual “Oh? Who?”

Helena shrugs and glances away.  

Myka looks out at the park. There is a toddler playing in the fountain now, while its father, she assumes, tries to coax it out. Closer to them three men in suits are, rather incongruously, kicking a soccer ball around.

“I don’t want to go back,” says Myka.

“Then come and stay with me,” says Helena. “Until you’re ready to decide what happens next.”

“I can’t just leave… well, Pete. And Artie and everyone. And what about you and the Regents?”

“Bother the Regents,” says Helena as she stands up and twists to brush down the back of her coat, “and bother Pete and Artie and everyone else. Even the ever-conscientious Myka Bering needs a break sometimes.” She turns back and pulls Myka to her feet. “But, my dear, I really do have a meeting, so we will have to go. You can come and see my office.”

Myka pulls out her phone to check her face. “Who will I be? An old work colleague?”

“A friend,” says Helena, “A good friend. Come on.” And she puts her arm through Myka’s.

Myka smiles and puts her phone away.

“I must tell you, though,” Helena says, as they walk, “I only have the one bed. And I am certainly not sleeping on the couch, so we’ll have to share.” She is looking everywhere except at Myka.

“Like when you were an apprentice dressmaker.”

“What? Oh, yes. Like that.” She frowns. “When did I tell you about that?”

“Years ago.” Myka nudges her. “And don’t you have a girlfriend? Giselle? Will she be okay with some strange woman suddenly sleeping in your bed?”

Helena gives a dismissive shrug and Myka tries to frown disapprovingly, but actually she feels happier than she has in months. Her smile gets wider. “We can finally have a sleepover.”

Helena blinks. “I know I know what that is, but right now all I can think of is some sort of overnight transportation system.”

“It’s when a friend comes over and stays the night. And you stay up late and tell stories.” She pats Helena’s hand kindly. “You can be in charge of the stories.”

“Can I” says Helena, checking for traffic before escorting Myka over. “Actually,” she says, brightening, “I have recently submitted a story to Uncanny magazine. It’s quite good. Perhaps I’ll read it to you tonight.”

Myka squeezes her arm. “I’d like that,” she says.

[my-precious-treasure]

Better Than A Dream

Original Works Mlist

Inspired by Sleep -Johnny Orlando

She stares out the window, her hair dancing around her face in the cool breeze and arm outstretched through the car window. The streetlamps whiz by, illuminating her face in 3 second intervals. The stars twinkle playfully beside the moon and the cloud coverage is minimal.

She inhales deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before casting her gaze upon him. The man beside her could only be described as beautiful; ethereal, almost. His already messy hair was pushed back by the wind, sharp eyes focused on the road ahead. A small smile graces his lips. With one hand on the wheel and the other arm resting on the car door, he could only be described as relaxed.

There was something about summer nights, but this one was different. She’s hit with a wave of nostalgia as realization washes over her. This is their last drive together. Graduation is tomorrow, and the day after, they fly to opposite sides of the continent.

Her vision blurs as she stares at him. This stupid, annoying, wonderful man was the bane of her existence and love of her life. But did he love her enough to do long-distance or was this their end? Do the sweet nothings he whispered to her in the darkness truly mean nothing?

Pushing the thoughts aside, she looks out the window once more, listening to the soft music coming from the radio and breathing in the fresh scent of the woods surrounding them. These were thoughts for another day. For now, she should enjoy this moment of peace with him.

As the car comes to a slow, crossing the yellow line and into a small lot overlooking a cliff, she finally looks at him again. He sees the question in her eyes but merely tells her to get out and follow him.

As they approach the railing, she sucks in a breath. It’s beautiful – the city in the distance, the lights shining like stars fallen upon the Earth.

“I thought you might like this.” He watches her lean against the rail, imprinting the view into her memory. “I wanted to take you somewhere special before our big day. Four years at that damn university; I would have dropped out long ago if it weren’t for you.” She finally looks at him, a small smile forming on her lips.

“You should give yourself more credit. I didn’t do anything.”

“You supported and helped me as my manager. You were my best friend, always brightening my day. But most of all, you love me. You saw me in my worst, but you stayed. You dragged me out to strange new places and gave me the best memories of my life. After everything we’ve been through,” he gently takes her hand in his, “you at least deserve a thank you.”

She turns to face him fully, the view long forgotten. Tears begin forming in her eyes again, “Why does this sound like a goodbye? I-I’m not ready to let go yet. . .”

“Neither am I.” He pulls her close, kissing her forehead, cheek, nose, and finally her lips. He’s warm.

All too soon he pulls away, putting his hand in his pocket. Carefully, he pulls out a small box, opening it. The ring inside draws a gasp.

“I know it will be hard at first, with the long-distance stuff, but we can make it work. I want to make it work because I love you so much. All the scenarios I see of my future, you’re there. I can’t imagine a life without you in it. So, I. . .uh. . .please don’t cry! Was it something I said? If you don’t want to, I can return it!” She shakes her head as his hand comes up to cradle her face, thumb whipping at her tears.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” Hope fills her eyes as he shakes his head.

“We’re wide away.” He slips the ring on her finger, softly kissing her hand.

“Good.” She grabs his face, slamming her lips into his once more. “I love you so much more than you realize. This – you – are so much better than a dream.”

~ ~ ~

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[thisbealexis]

Please enjoy my before, during, and after shots from meeting @switwer1 this past weekend at @fanboy_expo #orlando Honestly, Thomas and I found out about this show last minute but, I instantly bought tickets once I saw Sam Witwer on the guest list. I had to take advantage of the opportunity to meet the man that perfectly personified Maul*. Watching Clone Wars gave me a whole new outlook to Star Wars and Maul was and is the reason I have become such a fan. I think most of all, even though Star Wars has been around for decades, I took it all in at the right time in my life. Younger me wouldn't have appreciated what she was watching. Hearing Sam talk about how he's a fan of George Lucas was beyond mesmerizing. Followed by Dungeon and Dragons, entertaining, and the story of his dogs had me misty-eyed. You could feel the emotions in his words intensify with each story. So silly me wants to ask him a question about him personally. Based on his roles and his music, and even his mysterious yet charming vibes...would he consider himself an elder emo 💀 I didn't get a chance to ask during the q&a so I would do it once I met him for a photo. I practiced how I would ask him for 2 days and can we guess what happened? The SpongeBobs in my mind completely threw my script in the trash and decided to "wing it" followed by complete panic. I don't think I ever spoke that fast before in my life. Mind you it was late and the event had ended so I was trying to hurry up, but, he was so nice and stayed to meet everyone in line. He's definitely an empath and his dogs were meant to find him and be found by him. If we've learned anything, the infinite galaxies work in mysterious ways. He might be an emo kid after all (and that just makes me appreciate him more)! I had a breakdown once we walked away and even though Maul would think I'm crazy and weak-minded, I think he'd also remember a time where he was overwhelmed with feeling. The show expressed a more aware Zabrak and his growth is what hooked me in. Thank you for coming to Orlando, @switwer1! Thank you @bird_.gram for bringing out the geek in me I love you!❣️ *Former Sith Lord 👕: @imperialmerchco https://www.instagram.com/p/CiQ6yYjszZT/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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Quite Possibly the Stupidest Person I Have Ever Met

Requested: Yes! Anon

Request: Hey! Anything Kingsman with Conrad Oxford when you’re up for it x

Summery: Conrad is one of the most stubborn hard headed people you know which is why you know the boy would never listen to his father's reason. 

Genre: Fluff a sprinkling of agnst then fluffy at the end

Warnings: There is cross dressing female to male if you don’t like that don’t read it. Swearing, Violence, Reader kills some people somewhat graphically happens very quickly towards the end. 

Pairing: Conrad x Fem!Reader

Characters: Polly, Conrad, Shola, Orlando, Kitchener, Morton, Rasputin, King George, Archie Reid

Authors note: Conrad was an idiot but I won’t let him die. I’m sorry for the emotional rollercoaster of a one shot while simultaneously not sorry at all. DO NOT BIND YOUR CHEST WITH BANDAGES AND DON’T BIND IF YOU ARE DOING INTENSIVE PHYSICAL ACTIVITY PLEASE BIND SAFELY THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY YOUR ARE REAL.

Kingsman Requests are Open

Word Count: 2.9k+ (I really went overboard here I hope you like it.)

The King’s Man Masterlist

“That boy is nothing but trouble...” You mumble mostly to yourself as you and Polly observe Shola and Conrad sparring with daggers covered in powder.

“You're not wrong.” Polly responds, chuckling slightly, raising her gun to shoot the dagger out of Shola’s hand. “Conrad, you have a guest,” she nods her head towards you before continuing. “And an appointment so go get ready!” 

“Of course!” He shouts back, nodding his head in your direction with a slight smirk. “Lady L/N, enjoying the view?” His playfulness is still there after not seeing you for nearly a year. You have finished your “Schooling”. You had actually been training with the same person who trained Polly in order to know how to fight and defend yourself already being a part of the Duke’s network, but Conrad wasn’t allowed to know such things.

“Bloody hell Conrad go put a shirt on already I do not have all day!” You comment rolling your eyes before entering the house.

“Oh Y/N! What are you doing here my dear?” You heard Orlando call from down the hall followed by his confident strides and the even tapping of his cane.  You meet him halfway opening your arms for a hug which he gladly accepted with a smile. It had been to long since you had 

“Just thought I would come by for an impromptu visit, but it seems I don’t have the best timing. What is this appointment Conrad has?” You ask the older man you had grown to see as a father figure with how often you found yourself at his home. 

“His first suit fitting at Kingsman tailors.” He answers giving you a good once over. “You are more than welcome to join...I am sure Conrad would not be opposed to the idea.” The older man smirks as heat quickly rises to your cheeks.

“I might just have to take you up on that offer.” You smile slyly.

You wait patiently for Conrad in the common space outside of the fitting room when you see Kitchener enter with his right hand man Morton. Like Orlando you had known Kitchener for a very long time and have actually met the man through the Duke of Oxford.

“General Kitchener? What a pleasant surprise it has been a while.” You announce your presence raising to your feet. 

“Miss L/N how have you been? What are you doing at a tailor shop?” He responds quirking one of his bushy eyebrows at you.

“I have been well just finishing up my schooling. I am actually waiting for our mutual friends the Oxford’s to finish up their fitting...” You pause gauging the General's reaction. ‘‘But you already knew they were here didn’t you?” You ask quietly with a sly smirk.

“You were always pretty quick to catch onto things. Is it that obvious?” He leans in and questions curiously.

“Orlando will figure it out, Conrad won’t know.” You inform him, smiling up at the older gentleman. 

“Fitting room 3 is ready for you Sir.” The tailor announces getting a nod from the General and Morton.

“Have a good fitting Kitch.” You smile.

“Thank you my dear.” He smiles back.

After an hour of sitting and waiting Conrad and Orlando exit the fitting room. Hearing the door open you look up and your breath catches in your throat and heat rushes to your cheeks when you see Conrad. The bastard looked damn good in a suit and judging by the smirk on his face he knew it.  

“So...what do you think?” Conrad’s question lingers for a minute as you stand up and walk over to him, taking the lapels of his new suit jacket, straightening it slightly.

“You look great Conrad.” You look into his eyes. “Like a true gentleman if you ask me.” You whisper quietly, getting lost for a moment.

“Thank you.” He whispers back. 

Behind you another fitting room door opens looking over Conrad's shoulder you make eye contact with his father and roll your eyes causing him to smile after he sees who exited the fitting room.

“General Kitchener...” Orlando starts talking to his old friend but you zone them out focusing instead on Conrad’s reaction to the sudden appearance of the two new men. He had quickly turned you around to face the men and wrapped his arm snuggly around your waist pulling you into his side. This action did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room and you had to lower your head, shaking it slightly, hiding your smile at his rather protective action.

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation in private?” Orlando’s question peaks your interest.

“May I recommend the Pattern Room, it's upstairs second door on the left.” The Tailor spoke up.

“Perfect! Morton, would you mind entertaining these two?” Kitchener asks.

“Of course Sir.” Morton answers, giving a curt nod. 

Morton, Conrad and yourself sit down in the common area. Conrad sits on the couch beside you while Morton takes a seat in one of the upholstered chairs. 

There was something off with Morton. He seemed nice enough holding a pleasant conversation with Conrad he never addressed you. The way he presented himself made you uncomfortable; it felt ingenuine like he was just playing a part. The more you thought about it the more you realised tragedy seemed to follow the man Emily’s death, Orlando’s injury, and the fact Kitchener seemed to back rather stupid and rash military decisions when he was around. Also the fact he seemed to be actively trying to recruit Conrad to the military was not getting him any points from you. Perhaps you were reading too much into this. You look him up and down again and release a slight sigh you could not figure it out. 

“Are you alright Y/N?” Conrad asks, concerned about your shift in mood wrapping his free arm around your shoulder.

“Hmm...Oh yes sorry I must have spaced out for a moment.” You rise to your feet. “If you’ll both please excuse me I need to freshen up. I'll only be a moment.” Both men nod as you make your way upstairs. 

Once upstairs you approach the Pattern Room and knock lightly before entering.

“Miss L/N this is a private matter, what are you doing here?” Kitchener says his voice filled with authority and had you been anyone else it may have scared you. You however turn to Orlando and give him a look that could be read as ‘Is this bitch serious right now’ to which he rolls his eyes. 

“She can be here.” Orlando says beckoning you further into the room. 

“Hopefully this conversation will be more mentally stimulating than the one downstairs. Morton seems to have an issue with me.” You mumble joining Orlando’s side. “Also Kitch tell your right hand man to stop trying to recruit children, it is not a good look.” You bite out knowing that it wasn’t really his fault.

“I’ll speak about it with him Y/N.” He nods lightly acknowledging your request. “As we were saying, I need you to visit the Archduke and convince him to come back to London for his own safety.” Kitch clarifies what needed to happen, probably to fill you in more than to convince Orlando.

“If I may, I think you should go Orlando and take Conrad with you. It will do you both some good.” This gets you an approving nod from the general and a scowl from the Duke. “Oh don’t give me that look you know I am right. As much as I have loved this chat I should get back downstairs soon so as to not look suspicious.” You abruptly turn and exit the room. 

“She is just like Emily.” Kitch says before you are out of earshot.

“I know she is. She keeps Conrad in line.” Orlando comments.

“She keeps you in line too my old friend.” This comment earns a chuckle from both men and a smile from you before you rejoin Conrad and Morton.

You sit in the hidden room in between Shola and Polly fiddling with a throwing knife waiting for Orlando to join you.  The door opens and Orlando walks in accompanied by Conrad.

“About fucking time!” You exclaim smiling as you jump up and pull Conrad into a hug. “Welcome to the team.” You whisper into his ear pulling away you notice a slight tint of red overtake his face. “So what is the plan?” You ask turning to Orlando.

“Well it would seem we are going to Russia ourselves.” Orlando sighs. 

“It seems we have a monk to kill.” Shola adds.

Well killing Rasputin was an absolute shit show. On the bright side he was dead, Orlando’s leg was miraculously healed and you were all alive so all and all it could be considered a win. Yay. Now you are adding the candles to Conrad’s birthday cake helping Polly.

“You should tell him Y/N.” Polly’s voice shatters the peaceful silence.

“Tell who what? Polly you are going to be more specific.” You ask innocently looking up at her slightly confused.

 “Don’t play stupid with me. Tell Conrad you love him already. I honestly do not understand how he hasn’t figured it out on his own! He clearly loves you too, he's just an idiot who doesn’t know how to express his feelings.” 

“Oh I know it’s pretty funny to watch.” 

“The two of you are hopeless.” She shakes her head lightly giggling at your antics.

“Conrad please why do you so desperately want to join this bloody war!?” You shout at the man. No. The boy in front of you. For months he had been begging his father to join the fight and you had finally reached a breaking point.

“Because Y/N it is the noble thing to do! And there is nothing you nor my father can do to stop me now! I am an adult and I don't need anyone’s permission!” Conrad growls back.

“Noble...noble...there is nothing noble about this fight. You must be an idiot to believe that. Millions of men are dying Conrad, those families don’t even have bodies to bury. Those are millions of families that instead of getting their son, husbands, fathers back they get a letter! I want you Conrad NOT a piece of FUCKING PAPER! How is that so hard for you to wrap your thick fucking head around?” You feel tears springing up begging to fall but you don’t let them. “You are quite possibly the stupidest person I have ever met Conrad...the bravest stupidest person.” You pause for a moment pulling a small parcel from your pocket. “Do me a favor though since you are so determined to go...” You pause handing Conrad the parcel filled with sunflower seeds. “Keep these in your pocket that way if you die at least something beautiful will come from it.” You wipe away a few stray tears. “If you have a death wish I will not stand by and watch you get yourself killed. I love you too much to do that.” You don’t give him time to respond before walking out of the room. 

“Y/N?” Shola asks.

“Send for me when he joins. Until then I need to get away from him. I am sorry.” You ask the man, tears trickling down your face. 

“Of course my lady.” 

“Thank you.” And with that you left the house.

When Shola shows up at your door telling you he joined the war there was a rush of a lot of emotions: anger, fear, sadness, bitterness, and motivation. 

“Shola, I need to have a meeting with Orlando and Polly.” 

“Of course I’ll drive you there.” 

“Thank you Shola.”

“Y/N are you sure this is a good idea?” Polly asks taking your measurements in order to tailor you a uniform.

“Oh it’s probably a terrible idea but I know Conrad and he won’t take a desk job. And I will not let him die if I can do something about it.” You respond by wrapping your chest in order to bind your chest. “Orlando hates this plan but he has to acknowledge that I am doing it for the right reasons.”

“He knows that Y/N but he thinks of you as his daughter and the idea of losing both of you is a lot for him.” 

“I will do my best to make sure he doesn’t lose either of us. I promise.”

That is how you ended up crawling through no man's land between the trenches next to Conrad - who for the record does not even know it is you -  in the middle of the night hoping to find the information the spy was carrying. It was not going well when six German soldiers showed up in front of you. A few of the British soldiers went for their guns but you knew better grabbing your knife waiting for your opponent to attack first.

As soon as the german lunged for you you dodge grabbing their gas mask tilting their head back and slit their throat. You look behind you to see three of the British men dead and Conrad struggling to make his first kill. You felt bad but another German was coming at you so you could not help him. You pin the next guy stabbing him in the chest and standing up quickly. You take care of one more on your own before stabbing the man your commander was struggling in the back and throwing the knife into the head of the last man who had Conrad pinned down. 

Now it was only Conrad, you, and your commanding officer. During the struggle your hat came off and your hair came loose. At that moment it was very obvious you were a woman. You walk over to Conrad and pull him up and retrieve your knife from the dead man's head before rejoining the officer. You stand there in silence for a moment waiting for the officer to say something and when he doesn’t electing instead to stare at you in complete and utter disbelief you decide to start walking towards where the spy's body would be. 

“Wait Ma’am what are you doing here? How did no one notice.” The officer asks Conrad nods, looking equally confused. 

“Now really doesn’t seem like the best time Sir. We should find the documents he was carrying then we can discuss the fact you not only took a woman on your mission but also The Duke of Oxford’s son who is supposed to be in London sharpening pencils.” You snarl back glaring at Conrad. “So I need you to listen to my next words very very carefully.” You say turning to the officer jabbing your finger in his chest. “We are going to retrieve this document NOW and as soon as we get back you take me and that man.” You point to Conrad. “Straight back to London or so help me god I will take my knife and stab it straight through your right hand...Do I make myself clear Sir?” You growl out very tired and very done with the entire situation.

“Understood Ma’am.” The officer gulps. 

“Good.”

And that was exactly what happened: you found the document and the spy who was carried back to safety and a medic while you and Conrad were taken back to London. 

As soon as you get there you are met by King George, Orlando, and the man you would come to know as Archie Reid. 

“Both of you have committed several crimes and risked the lives of countless others with your actions.” The king begins what feels like will be a very long speech.

“Yes we did your majesty, however we also recovered the original transcript of the message the Kaiser sent to his embassy and likely saved more lives than we risked. And with all due respect I am exhausted, covered in blood that is not mine and extremely hungry so if this speech could wait that would be ideal.” You remark as calmly as possible, shoving the document into the King’s hand before grabbing Conrad by the arm and dragging him away.

“Let them go...they have a lot to talk about.” Orlando says watching the two of you walk away.

“Are you done playing hero now Conrad?” You ask once you are out of earshot of the others in a private room. 

“Yes Y/N I’m sorry you and my father were right.” Conrad whimpers softly.

“Of fucking course we were! We were trying to protect you! You need to listen to the people who care about you.” You all but groan resting your forehead on his chest. “You are so dense sometimes.”

“I’m sorry...” He says before he breaks down into tears falling into your arms.

“It’s okay...shh...shh...it’s okay it’s all going to be okay I promise.” You mutter into his hair lovingly. The two of you stay like that for a while, him cryinging into your shoulder and you rubbing his back whispering sweet nothings into his hair. After about thirty minutes he calms down enough to speak.

“You didn’t give me time to say it back.” He mumbled so quietly you almost missed it. 

“Say what back?” You question back pulling away holding his face between your hands.

“I love you too. I love you so much and I almost died without being able to tell you that. I love you, I love you, I love you!” He all but screams. You smile softly at him.

“Good thing I went after you huh? I love you too...” You mutter pulling him down and kissing him for the first time but certainly not the last.

Taglist - @nik2write @registerednursejackie​​ @lostsmolpotato 

[nojey]

fans

dream x streamer!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2.4k

warning(s): cursing, failed relationship, throwing things out of anger

synopsis: (y/n) and dream met through a mutual friend and their own friendship begins to blossom on its own. they start talking more and more and the feelings they have for one another grows so much more than either of them imagined. but as they stream together, they realize how much hate they’ve started to get and rethink whether or not they should be together or not.

looking back on it, meeting dream was one of the best days of your life. that day, your friend, sapnap, had introduced you to one of his friends and from that day forward, a beautiful relationship bloomed. not a single one of either of your viewers knew you two had become friends and it was nice; keeping something to yourself from a whole community that knew almost everything about you. you both went from talking every once in a while, to every week, to every other day, to almost all day, everyday. you grew to know pretty much everything about each other, where he grew up, how his childhood was like, everything from his favorite color to what he feared the most. and as you got to know him more, your feelings for him just grew so much more than you had ever imagined. and you hoped he felt the same way about you.

when he asked you if you wanted to facetime, you were shocked. you guys were only ever either in a discord call, regular call, or texting. granted it had been about 7 months since you both became friends, but you didn’t need to know what he looks like. you like him for the person he is, how caring and attentive he is to his friends, how witty his personality is and how cocky and confident he is. you like him for the passion he has in his heart for the people and things he loves. you never had to see his face to know these things about him. but because you knew this was a big step in your friendship, you accepted. him even asking you to facetime meant so much to you. 

he called you with his phone facing the ceiling and you had propped up yours so your upper body was on full display. “clay, you know you don’t have to show me your face? if you’re not ready to, you don’t have to.” you told him. “i’m more than ready to show you what i look like, (y/n). you’re an important person in my life and i want to show you.” he replied. “okay.. if you’re really sure. i just hope you know that whatever you look like, it will not change my opinion of you.” you assured him. “i know, (y/n).” he chuckled. “which is how i know i’m ready to show you.” you smiled. your heart warmed knowing that he trusts you this much. “whenever you’re ready, clay.” you said. “close your eyes,” he said. you did what he asked of you and you heard shuffling. he let out a breath, grabbed his phone and propped it up so you could see his face. 

“you can open your eyes now.” he said. you slowly opened your eyes and your breath got caught in your throat as you fully saw him. “wow..” you whispered, still examining his face. “you’re really pretty, clay.” he started blushing and said, “stop staring, you’re just going to fall in love with me.” laughing a bit. you started blushing too and looked away. both your reasons for blushing may have been different, but you knew you were blushing because what he said was true. 

for the rest of the night you both stayed up until 3am talking about anything and everything, getting to know each other more than you already did.

the day you both streamed together was about 4 months later. the internet went crazy. your viewers and his had absolutely no idea you two had known each other but they saw the way you two talked to each other; they knew you sounded like you were talking to your soulmate. you didn’t have to watch what you said, you laughed out to your hearts content, you both teased each other in such a flirtatious manner that it didn’t take them long to start thinking you guys were in a relationship. 

but with the people who supported you, there were twice as many people who hated the idea of you two together. at first it was bearable, neither of you cared about the hate because you were happy with where you both were with each other. clay was confident that you felt the same way about him that he had for you. he fell in love with you and you knew you had fallen in love with him too. 

a few weeks after your first stream together, he asked you if you wanted to fly to florida to meet him in person and you immediately said yes. you started packing your bags and by next week, you were on your way to meet the guy of your dreams. 

when you landed, he was already there waiting for you and when you got to baggage claim you saw him and immediately recognized him. you ran up to him and gave him the tightest hug ever; you were finally in his arms. the height difference was evident and he had to lean down a bit to hug you but he felt so content with you being there, in his arms. 

“you’re really here..” he whispered. “i’m here, clay. i’m here.” you assured. tears started slowly falling down your face and you buried your face deeper into his chest, taking in the warmth that was filling you. clay started crying too, thinking how lucky he was to be able to hold you close to him.

the day after you flew in was the one year mark of you two becoming friends so you went out to celebrate. throughout the day you guys reminisced back to the nights you both stayed up till the sun rose just talking and created new memories as you adventured through orlando. when it was around 3pm clay drove you to the beach to witness the sunset and you arrived just when the sun was kissing the water. you looked around the beach and saw no one but a beautiful set up with roses on the sand. you looked at clay with a surprised expression, he smiled, took your hand and lead you to where the roses laid. he brought you to stand in the middle of it and took both your hands in his,

“(y/n), when sapnap introduced us i never knew you would be such an important person in my life and i couldn’t be more grateful for you. you have helped me through my darkest times, celebrated with me in my happiest, been patient with me when i was being insufferable, stood by me during the most boring days and acted like you were having a blast when it was only just us talking. you’ve shown me that i can let myself be who i am without caring what any other person had to say about me. there’s so many words that i can’t put together right now because that’s how you make me feel. you make me feel so nervous when i’m around you and all the words in my head just get mixed up and i never know what to say. but i do know that right now, i’m trying to ask you on a date. so (y/n), will you go on a date with me?” by the time he was done with his speech you were close to tears. “of course i’ll go on a date with you clay.”

the night of your date had been the most magical night of your life. in the day you both went to disneyworld and at night he brought you to a hill top to, once again, watch the sunset while you both ate dinner on the hood of the rental car he got. everything was so perfect, it was the best date you’ve ever went on. 

he was an absolute gentleman, not letting you pay for your things, opening the door for you, pulling you closer to him when someone got too close to you, treating you like you were a princess and you couldn’t have asked for a better guy to be with. 

after you both finished your dinner you just laid down on the hood of the car and stared at the stars, talking about a future you wish had come true. that night you shared a kiss that would be remembered through the horrid months to come.

the day you left orlando, you didn’t think it would be the last time you ever saw clay in person. when you got home you talked like normal, already speaking about a second date the next time either you or he visited. you both missed each other like crazy and you believed you would see each other very soon.

you streamed together more often and no one was blind to the smitten words you both shared, to the adoration dripping in your voices. so many people hated it and you never understood why, was it because they thought you weren’t good enough for him? because they were so protective over him? did they just hate you? so many questions filled your mind when your phone ringing brought you out of it. you reached for your phone and saw that clay wanted to facetime. you answered with a smile on your face, “hi clay!” but it soon dropped when you saw the solemn look that fell upon his. “is everything okay?” you asked. he sighed and said, “we need to talk.”

and everything fell apart.

the next words that came out of his mouth broke your heart. “i don’t think we should continue dating, or maybe even being friends.” you could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked around your room, trying to understand why this would come up all the sudden. “what do you mean?” you asked, slightly laughing hoping he was playing some sick joke on you. but when you kept looking at his serious face, you understood he wasn’t and your tears finally fell. he looked at you and his eyes glossed over. 

it hurt him knowing he was hurting you; the most important person in his life, the person he believed he would get married to and grow old with, the person he stayed up, losing sleep for just to get to know because you were worth that and a million more. 

“i know you see all the hate we’re getting. and that’s only us streaming together. what happens when they find out we went on a date or if we do start dating, what would the fans say?” he said, no longer looking at you through his screen. “why do you care about what they’ll say about us?” you whispered. “look at me, please.” he slowly looked back at the screen to see your face full of tears and that’s what finally broke him.

“our fans. they hate seeing us together, we can’t disappoint them. we can’t dissatisfy them. i know your fans mean the world to you and mine mean the world to me too.” he said, wiping his tears away, wishing he could just wipe yours, kiss your cheek and tell you everything would be okay. “but we can make it work, we won’t stream together as much or at all anymore. we can be like how we were before they knew we were friends! we can make it work clay..” you said. he started getting frustrated, just wanting this to be over with so he didn’t have to see you so hurt anymore.

“i can’t keep going on with my fans hating the relationship i’m in (y/n)! i can’t keep seeing my fans hate you because of me! i can’t keep making my fans mad at me because i have a stupid little crush on you!” he raised his voice. the last sentence hurting you more than anything. and he saw that in your facial expression, immediately regretting it. 

“no, (y/n). i- i didn’t mean it like tha-” you cut him off. “a stupid little crush? is that all i was to you clay? a stupid little crush? so what, that whole year we spent getting to know each other was you just having a stupid little crush on me? you asking me to fly to forida to meet you, was that you just having a stupid little crush on me? me actually flying all the way to florida to meet you, did you think i just had a stupid little crush on you? did you think me saying yes to going on a date with you was me just having a stupid little crush? what, did that date mean nothing to you? did that kiss mean nothing? did you not mean anything you said to me the night you asked me on that date? because i meant every single thing i said to you clay. you’ve impacted my life so much in such a good way, but i guess you didn’t feel the same way. was i just a joke? just someone to play with while you were bored?” you asked, not wanting to believe what he was saying. 

“no, that’s not what i meant.” he sighed. “then why can’t we work things out!? i don’t understand, clay. if you really did mean everything you told me on that beach then why aren’t you trying harder for us?” you asked, disappointment dripping through your voice. “because i just don’t think we’d work out okay!” he yelled at you. neither of you spoke, just looking at each other. he saw the nasty glare and look of hurt wash over your face. “that’s all you needed to tell me.” you whispered. 

you hung up and as soon as the call was disconnected you sobbed. you cried your eyes out. the guy you were in love with made you believe he wasn’t in love with you. you were absolutely devastated and you didn’t know if you’d ever be as happy as you were with him.

---------

in florida, sat a man with his phone clutched in his hands, tears streaming down his face that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon. he whispered, “what have i done?” he screamed, he threw things, broke picture frames, punched the wall. but doing all those things would never bring you back to him.

---------

twitter

(y/n): hey everyone! i think i’m going to take a break from streaming and all social media for a few months. i don’t really want to go into detail right now but maybe if i come back i’ll explain everything. until then i hope all of you stay healthy and hopefully i come back eventually, i love you all :]

————

authors note:

you guys!! there will be a part 2, send me an inbox or a message if you want to be on the tag list !!

[anmactireaonair]

Title: Putting Up With Each Other

Summary: Orlando comes to the Reader, Polly, and Shola for advice.

Words: 879

AN: I got a couple of dialog prompts from the internet, and at first I thought this would end up being crack, but I really could see this happening. Gender neutral reader, and not proof read by anyone but me, so please let me know about any mistakes.

Orlando comes down into the wine cellar/Kingman’s workroom, where Polly, Shola, and I were relaxing in our downtime. I look up at him as he comes down the stairs and smile at him and he grins back. Orlando comes to stand beside the chair I am sitting in and rests his left hand on my right shoulder. I lean my head into his hand as Polly asks, “Is there something you need, Your Grace?”

Orlando shakes his head ‘no’, but then makes an unsure facial expression, “Nothing official, nor important. Rather I would like to get each of your opinions on something.” I raise my head to look at Orlando, interested. Shola and Polly both nod seriously, but also notably curious. Orlando lets out a deep chuckle, “No need to look so serious, everyone. I assure you this is just something that I want your input on.”

As Orlando looks back at me, I raise my eyebrows encouragingly. “Alright. Going through my office desk, I realized I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions? I suppose I could give one to each agent for report writing, or I could give them to the boys for them to…”

I smile innocently at him and interrupt, “Put spaghetti in it.” Orlando looks down at me bewildered, but I just smile back at him trying not to laugh.

He sighs, “Alright, I am currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you, Dear.” He looks toward Shola and Polly hoping for a more serious response.

I glance at Polly and Shola with a wink that Orlando cannot see. I notice the twinkling in Polly’s eyes as she understands what I’m asking, but Shola remains stoic and deep in thought. I am hoping Orlando did not notice the exchange between Polly and myself as Polly confidently states, “Put spaghetti in it.”

Orlando closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Obviously attempting to muster up some patience Orlando declares, “I’m currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two. Shola?” He looks to Shola hoping that the stoic man will have a serious answer.

Shola makes eye contact with Orlando and states seriously, “Put spaghetti in it.” Then after a beat he adds, “Your Grace.” Polly and I burst out laughing, and I see Shola crack a smile as well. Meanwhile, Orlando lets out a long sigh and runs a hand down and back up his face then over his hair.

“I’m no longer taking suggestions.” He drops into a chair next to me, very inelegantly. He props his chin in his left hand shaking his head, and mutters, “I don’t know why I bother.”

I lean closer to Orlando and stage-whisper so everyone can hear, “That wasn’t very…. “Graceful”.” Then I sarcastically add, “Your Grace.” Choked laughter comes from Shola and Polly and my shoulders shake with my own amusement, but Orlando just groans in resignation.

Orlando facepalms with the hand that was propping his chin up, and just shakes his head. Once our laughter dies down, he eventually looks at us and speaks, “Can I be frank with you guys?”

Raising my eyebrows and trying not to smirk I reply, “Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.” Orlando opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by Polly.

“Can I still be Polly?” she asks mock worryingly.

Shola holds up a hand towards Polly, “Shh, let Frank speak.”

The three of us start cracking up laughing, and Orlando stands from the chair and begins to leave the room, “Alright, I’m done. You three have your fun at my expense.”

Even with his back facing me and him heading up the stairs I could tell he was more amused than irritated with us, so I call out, “Don’t forget the spaghetti, Frank!” We don’t hear his response over our laughter, just the secret door closing.

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

About an hour after Orlando left, Shola and Polly also went upstairs needing to get back to work. Not wanting to be alone I make my way back up into Orlando’s study. I was surprised to see Orlando sitting at his desk leaning back in his chair, with his glasses on, reading a book. He glances up at me when I exit the secret passageway, “Hello, Dear.”

I grin and walk towards him, as I get closer, he marks his place in the book and puts it down on the desk. I push his chair back from his desk a bit and sit across his lap, my left side against his chest and my left arm wrapping around his shoulders. His arms immediately wrap snuggly around my waist. I kiss his receding hairline, “So about earlier… I just want you to know that I know I’m very lucky that you put up with me. And I love you for it.”

Orlando chuckles, “No worries, Love. As much as I hate to admit it, it was quite humorous.” He kisses my temple, “And yes you are very lucky to have me.” He winks at me, and kisses my lips softly, “But then again, I feel I’m even luckier to have you… So, I guess that makes up for putting up with you.”

[yumeka36]

Happy 8-year anniversary to Frozen!

Today marks 8 years since the release of Frozen, a movie that would resonate with me like no other and change my life for years to come. Earlier this week I made a post for the 2-year anniversary of its sequel, Frozen 2, so today I wanted to do the same for the original movie (as well as the shorts). I’m going to be sharing photos from special events/occasions that I attended throughout the movie’s history - a sort of “trip down memory lane” for all the fun times I’ve personally had the privilege of experiencing with my beloved franchise.

Since the original Frozen has been around a lot longer than the sequel, I have a lot more photos to share so I apologize in advance for the length of this post!

---

Thought I’d start with the very first Frozen items I ever purchased: these mugs from Disney Store in late 2013. It was literally the first time since I was a kid that I wanted to buy something from a Disney movie - little did I know what it would lead to 8 years later! (anyone who’s seen my collection now knows what I mean!)

---

My first trip to Disneyland after Frozen mania hit, in mid-2014. On the left is the original location for Anna and Elsa’s meet & greet, a small building in Fantasy Land (complete with Olaf on top). It wasn’t unusual for lines to be two hours long! Eventually they moved the location to a bigger space in California Adventure. Also on the right hand photo, a Let It Go cake I saw in a window!

---

Once I became a Frozen fan, I started hearing about D23 Expo and wanted to check it out. I went to my first one in 2015 and I was delighted to see all the Frozen love!

There was also a lot of promotion for Frozen Fever!

My best experience at the convention was attending Frozen Fandemonium, an event featuring the Frozen songwriters, as well as special appearances by Josh Gad, Kristen Bell, and others. They discussed the creation of the Frozen songs and even did some performances. Highlights were Kristen Bell singing the deleted song “More Than Just the Spare” and everyone getting together to sing “Let It Go.” The entire show is available to watch on YouTube here. Such an awesome experience!

---

I visited Disneyland a few more times the following years and was happy to see Frozen added to their parades and night shows, especially to the debut of “Paint the Night,” one of my favorites. During the holidays of 2015, they even added the Let It Go segment to two back-to-back showings of World of Color. I was pleased about it, though I could also understand how Disney was pushing Frozen a bit too much at the parks to the point where people were starting to get sick of it (not that I ever had that problem, lol).

In 2016, the Frozen theatrical show started playing at the Hyperion Theater in California Adventure. I saw it for the first time during the holidays that year and they honestly did a very good job condensing the movie into just an hour and adding a couple of unique touches.

---

In spring of 2017, after the Frozen ride had opened at Disney World in Orlando, I decided that I wanted to take my first trip out there...so I did, and it was amazing.

Besides the ride, the Norway area of Epcot was also filled with Frozen! There’s Anna and Elsa’s Sommerhouse where they had their meet & greet, as well as these lovely topiaries right outside.

There was also a really cool Nordic/Frozen themed museum (more photos of that here).

Although most of it was in Epcot, Frozen was still in the other lands too! There’s a float in Magic Kingdom for one of my most favorite Disney parades, “Festival of Fantasy,” projections and segments in the night shows, and a sing-along show at Hollywood Studios.

My first merch haul from Disney World...

---

In summer of 2017, there was another D23 Expo, this time with lots of Olaf’s Frozen Adventure! I attended a panel where the creators, including the song writers, discussed the short, showed us some exclusive footage, and did a live  performance of “When We’re Together” (which had yet to be released to the public at the time). The lithograph on the right was given away for free at random times at the Disney Animation booth, as well as signed versions from the filmmakers (which unfortunately I missed out on). I almost missed my chance to get the lithograph at all, but I asked the cast member nicely if I could have one and he gave it to me :)

I took another trip to Disneyland a couple days after Christmas that year and saw that they were showing a sneak peek of OFA before the Frozen stage play. I thought that was weird since the short had already been out for a month, lol.

---

Although D23 Expo 2019 was mostly filled with Frozen 2, I did manage to snag this signed poster from Joe Caramagna, the author of the Frozen Dark Horse comics.

---

And lastly, in January of 2020, just a couple months before the pandemic, I saw the Broadway play of Frozen at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. After listening to the soundtrack for months, it was great to finally see the performance myself (though I’m still salty that they removed “True Love” from this version).

---

Unfortunately I didn’t do much in 2020 and 2021 because of the pandemic, plus lack of new Frozen projects for Disney to promote. But hopefully that will change...can’t say when or how, but sometime in the future I hope to have another bunch of photos like this for Frozen 3!

[black-coffee-and-sugar]

Azie killed it!!!

me praising a supergirl episode? i know, shocking. but 6x12 just came for me where i live! i knew it was going to be great but it surpassed my expectations. sister are really doing it for themselves! so many things to point out that were phenomenal but here’s what comes to mind rn:

- the camera work while kelly’s all distressed at the hospital, lil joey struggling to breathe, orlando looking so helpless > i was already stressed within 5 mins

- rankin literally saying “i’ll do everything i can to help these people” while rolling away to her private hospital room with access to trial medication when the residents of the heights probably don’t even have insurance or money to pay the bills. also rankin literally sucking the life out of this disadvantaged community, building wealth and pushing her political agenda on the backs of black people is the most realistic portrayal of true villainy that this show has ever given us

- kelly’s phone call to james in the stairwell, talking about how exhausting it is was so personal to me. i work in these types of communities all the time and it’s a hard fight. i get emotionally tired too. it does feel like screaming into the void, like one step forward and ten steps back. and i felt this for kelly.

- alex’s solution is to send respirators and nothing else? just makes me realize that while the super friends were protecting mxy and trying to capture nxyly, they were pretty much neglecting the heights. people who were literally dying and it’s horrifying to think of where their priorities lie. especially considering the fact that they could have handled the nxyly issue without alex so she can support her gf

- writer 1: how do we make the audience hate rankin some more?

  writer 2: have her kill a guy for a sandwich on white bread. it’ll make her look like even more of an asshole

but seriously, what kind of psychopathic shit was that?

- andrea has always been portrayed a shameless capitalist who only cares about grabbing eyeballs but it has never been highlighted as negatively as it was in this episode in that phone call with kelly 

- i think kelly reaching out to lena who isn’t even in national city really speaks to her desperation to have someone see her. someone hear her. someone fucking help and i’m glad she had at least diggle’s support

- that slim stack of bills is all it took for that woman to sell her soul to rankin? bruh...

- the super friends showing up to the heights, only concerned with tracking nxyly, not giving any amount of fucks about what kelly is trying to say enraged me. i know that was the point of the episode but STILL

- kara telling kelly that mxy can fix all this once they get him out of the crystal. what are you five? give me a goddamn break with this foolishness kara! so lil joey’s lungs are just supposed to hang on til whenever the fuck y’all save mxy? lena, please come and collect your wife

- kelly looking directly at kara when she mentions the word hope while dragging the super friends for their nonchalant behaviour > oof, a slap to the face

- i see nia had the one brain cell this week. she’s the only one who attempted to help kelly in whatever way she could. 

- brainy really said racism is still a problem in the 31st century and it did not surprise me. 

- seems like having tunnel vision is a danvers sisters trait. i get alex not being able to relate to kelly’s struggle but come on she’s your girlfriend. can’t you tell when she’s upset?

- i’m glad that they addressed j’onn choosing the appearance of a black man and how even though he may have been a target because of it, he still can’t relate fully to the experiences like kelly, james and diggle can. it’s optional for him. they don’t have that luxury to check out whenever it suits them

- kara talking about the anti-alien hate with the col and i would like to remind kara that she genuinely thought things were improving and that the division didn’t exist despite j’onn and brainy repeatedly telling her otherwise. because, once again, her physical appearance affords her privilege that no black person or visible alien will ever receive

- every kelly scene was so emotional i was bawling wtf. her talking about pushing her pain and anger down and trying to be positive and all smiles > 100% accurate 

- i can’t believe i’m saying this but i did not need the lena scenes. they should’ve just kept those out. on the other note, magical amazon package delivery

- guardian’s suit is so fucking badass!!! i’m glad little black girls will feel SEEN and INSPIRED in this episode. thank you azie

- kara was really out there getting her ass kicked by a human who just got powers for a few hours? stop nerfing her abilities!

- the way we got an actual scene of kelly carefully wrapping her hair, the say her name t shirt, the books on the coffee table > well done azie

- alex and kelly in the final scene was a good portrayal of an interracial relationship where one partner wants to but just will never understand the issue fully. alex just needs to be there for kelly and i’m glad that they didn’t make it a moment to educate her white gf about racial discrimination. they kept the focus where it needed to be. i’m also  glad that unlike the other soical justice topics we’ve had,  they didn’t try to make it seem like something that is so engrained into the fabric of society can be wrapped up with a neat little bow and be done with. there’s more fighting to do but at least it seems like kelly will have the support going forward

- the promo after such a powerful episode gave me whiplash. back to our regularly scheduled nonsense i guess

This episode holy shit. man it was amazing. azie is a talented writer and it’s easy to tell that she was drawing inspiration from real and personal experiences. it was very easy for me to relate to these scenes, especially the hospital ones. also makes me annoyed because they’ve been wasting all this potential and this episode is proof that the show and it’s storylines can be nuanced and still include superhero aspects. too bad this episode will likely become one of few in this show’s entire run that actually accomplishes that.

[paisley-print]

Near The Water’s Edge:   Chapter Three

After fleeing your abusive husband, you find yourself in the small coastal town of July, North Carolina. Soon you meet Frankie Morales, Air Force Veteran and single dad. As the two of you grow closer, you begin to let go of your past and learn to love again. That is until a strange man shows up in town, and you ’re forced to choose between your safety or the safety of the people that you love.

Inspired by the novel “Safe Haven” written by Nicolas Sparks. 

Series Master List

Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: 18+ / Heavy adult themes eventual smut. Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Alludes to Non-Con, alcohol, Mentions of death, PTSD, anxiety.  Word Count: 2329

Note: A heavy chapter. Please read the warnings. Skip down page past Italics to avoid the flashback and skip to the main timeline.

Tag List:@qytyy @winter-fox-queen​​​ @sherala007​​​@inkededucatednnerdy @quica-quica-quica​​​ @hnt-escape​​​ @giizhkens-cedar​​​@heythere-mel​​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​

Chapter Three

“Y/n….. Y/n”

“I’m in here!” You called, peaking at your reflection through the glass of the microwave and dabbing at a blotch of red lipstick that was out of place. You heard him set his satchel down on the kitchen table and turned around with a smile. “I didn’t hear you come through the door.” 

“I came through the garage,” he said, then moved forward to place a lingering kiss on your lips.

“How was work?” You asked. 

He sighed and loosened his tie “busy, but the day went fast knowing I was coming home to my beautiful wife.”

You smiled and looped your arms around his neck, the fabric of your dress riding up a little. “I missed you too.”

“Oh, come on, I know you had way too much fun without me today,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss you again. This time his hands wandered lower and squeezed your ass. 

You swallowed back bile that was rising in your throat; and pulled away gently. “I did some laundry and vacuumed. Mostly I just waited for you to get back. I even picked out a movie for us to watch. I think you’ll like it.” 

“Yeah? What’s it about?”

“It’s that war movie you mentioned the other night, on Netflix. The one with Orlando Bloom.”

He smiled and gave your ass a light smack. “Yeah I think that will be fun. It’s better than the romantic comedy shit you choose half the time.”

With that, he disappeared into the bedroom to perform his nightly ritual. First it was the tie, then the suit jacket, next the top button of the shirt, and finally the cuff links. Once this was done, he would reach into the liquor cabinet for the whiskey and pour what would be the first glass of many to follow. 

You made your way over to the table, took up his satchel, then carried it through the house to the front door so you could hang it on the coat rack - where he expected it to be the next morning. Then you walked over to the Christmas tree and flicked the lights on, it lit up the living room beautifully. Christmas had always been your favorite holiday, but in recent years it just made you sad. Another few days, and all of this crap would be packed up in the attic again.

He was sitting at the table when you came back into the kitchen; you stole a glance at his belt. Thankfully, his gun was in the safe for the night. 

“Smells good,” he said, swirling the brown liquid around in his glass before taking a sip. “What is that? Garlic Chicken Pasta?”

“Yep. It’s almost done. I just gotta throw the pasta in real fast. Maybe another fifteen minutes or s-”

“I thought you said you were going to make soup tonight?”

You felt your heart racing. “I was, but then you mentioned how you wanted pasta tonight and soup on Friday, since you were going to the bar to watch the game and you didn’t want to reheat pasta.”

You turned to stir the water in the pot and tried to make yourself seem more busy than you were, that way you didn’t have to talk to him. All the while you could feel his eyes staring at you as he sat silently sipping his whiskey. Something was wrong, you could feel it. You searched your memory for all the potential missteps you may have taken today so it could be corrected. You could fix it before it bubbled out of control - a gasp escaped your lips as the lid of the pot boiled over. You reached for the lid, wondering when you had put it back on the pot. 

A voice broke the silence behind you, “I noticed the stuff in the bathroom.” 

Your grip on the wooden spoon turned your knuckles pale. 

He continued, “have you been taking the injections like the doctor said?”

You weren’t; you had been emptying the vials and filling them with water whenever David was in the shower. “Yes, you watch me take them,” you told him sweetly. “The doctor mentioned it could take a few months to build up enough hormones to-”

He slammed his glass down on the table. Not enough to break it, but enough to  to startle you. You tried your best to focus on the pasta as his footsteps grew closer. Soon his hot breath was sliding over the skin on your neck. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and sighed.

The weight of his body settled onto your shoulders, and for a moment you felt guilty. You never quite knew how he was able to do it. Make you question yourself like this. He prayed upon your capacity for empathy, and it always worked. You didn’t want a baby with him…. but you felt bad that you denied him one. None of it made sense. 

“Do you think it’s me? I’m the reason we can’t get pregnant?” he asked, voice sincere.

You put down the spoon then turned and looked at him again, hand coming up to rest on his cheek. “Not at all, honey.” 

His own hand shot up to grab a hold of your wrist, grip bruising. “Then who’s fault is it?”

You smiled through the pain, though your eyes filled with tears. “Maybe the doctor’s. You told me yourself that they were only in the business of making money.” 

His other hand came up and hit you across the face. Immediately searing pain shot through your cheek and into your eye. You stumbled forward, teetering unsteadily on your high heels. David used this opportunity to take you by the throat and slam you up against the refrigerator. Your head knocked against the stainless steel handle. Cereal boxes on top of the fridge fell over and spilled their contents all over the floor. David didn’t notice, his attention was focused entirely on you. 

“We’ve been to three of them. Clearly it’s not something they are doing. So if it’s not me, and it’s not the doctor’s then whose fault is it?”

You hesitated only for a moment. David took this as yet another act of defiance and landed a punch in your rib cage. He was punishing you by showing exactly where he wouldn’t hit you if you were pregnant. Since you weren’t carrying his child, you could endure his corrections. It knocked the wind out of you. You struggled for air as David waited patiently for your response. 

“Me. It’s... It’s m-my fault,” you finally choked out.

This answer seemed to satisfy him. He let go, then calmly went over to the cabinet, plucked the bottle of whiskey from its shelf and brought it with him to the table. “Since you are clearly incapable of doing it yourself, I will take over the job of giving you the injections.”

It hurt to breathe. Every breath you took felt like someone was twisting a dagger into your lungs. Your hands were shaking and your eyes watered as you reached under the sink to take out the dustpan and broom. You didn’t cry though, You forced yourself not to.

-

The rest of the meal passed in silence, you pushing around salad and pretending to eat while David scrolled on his cellphone. As long as you didn’t lift your arms too high and took shallow breaths- the pain was bearable. After the meal had ended, David took the alcohol with him into the living room. 

Once you were done cleaning up, you told David that you were going to take a shower. He was too invested in the news program to care. The moment the door was shut, and the water was running, you broke down. Sobs hid by the sound of running water. 

Steam fogged up the mirror and clouded the ceiling. Vanity light bulbs suddenly appeared blinding. You used one hand to peel off your shirt as carefully as possible, knowing there would be a bruise. It looked much worse than you had expected, dark broken capillaries reaching out from the center like tails of a serpent. 

Breath hitched in your throat as you lifted your hand up to feel it. It didn’t feel broken, thank god, but it probably was fractured. As soon as you stepped into the stream of water,  bullets tore through your sensitive skin. You couldn’t reach up to turn the water off so you squeezed yourself into the corner, naked body pressing up against the freezing damp tiles.

All you ever did was love him and he repaid you in marks and insults. You had tried to be a good wife, and he saw none of it. He was not the man you married six years ago - or at least not the man you thought you were marrying. For a long time you tried to rationalize his behavior, saying that being a detective in the homicide unit was a necessary but dark job. He was a hero. So you endured his bad days because you thought you could be a beacon of light for him, but with every hit and beating the light flickered out…. and you felt as though you would be trapped in the dark with him forever. 

You couldn’t even think of bringing an innocent child into this hell. 

You kept yourself as close to the corner of the shower as possible, leaning your head into the rushing water and trying to wash your hair with only one hand. It proved to be a much harder task than it looked. Soap kept getting into your eyes and your neck ached with the strain of moving it in such an odd way.

By the time you were finished washing the remaining drops of conditioner out of your hair. David was there, waiting on the bed when you opened the door. He swayed a little as he sat and motioned you over with his finger.

“Come here, hon,” he slurred.

You did as you were told. David pulled you closer, taking the towel you had wrapped around yourself and pulling it off of you. You shivered in the cold air as you stood bare for him. He set it down on the bed, then took something in his hands, gently pressing it to your side. 

You gasped, alarmed at its sting - only to realize it was an ice pack. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking up at you with big round eyes. He sighed and rested his head on your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have hit you. I  know you want a baby just as much as I do. I’m just getting worried, we’ve been trying for years…”

You hoped that the alcohol was enough to kill him in his sleep tonight. You fantasized about it, hearing him choke on his own vomit as he lay beside you. Hearing him thrash and spit and sutter and gurgle and die on his own vomit like an animal. You wouldn’t move a muscle, you would just listen and smile in the darkness of your bedroom. Your hand came up to rest on the back of his head, because you knew that’s what he wanted. “It’s okay.”

A wave of nausea flooded your system as his lips pressed a lingering kiss to the base of your neck, his finger trailing up your side and coming to brush against your breast. At least you were safe from sex tonight. David wouldn’t touch you below the waist when you were on your period - it repulsed him. 

“Do you still love me?” He asked, pulling back to look at you, eyes bloodshot and nose red from the liquor.

“Yes,” you lied, “of course I love you.”

-

The early morning sun cast long shadows across the parking lot of the marina. Seagulls called from every direction, catching the wind and hovering on the air stream. Looking almost frozen as they teetered in the air - until they dived down, striking at the water to catch their prey. 

As you passed the main shop, you drew a slow breath, lungs filling with the smell of salt water. 

It was a beautiful morning and a busy one for the marina. The parking lot was packed with families getting their things in order to set out on the water. You thought it odd that Frankie would be allowed off today, of all days. You noticed that there were a few more cars than normal as you unlatched the gate to Frankie’s driveway and shut it behind you. To say that you were nervous was an understatement.

You lay awake last night, over-analyzing everything. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself, but mostly you didn’t want to embarrass Frankie. He had been the one to bring you along, and you were a direct reflection of him. If you failed today, then he might not speak to you again. He had been your only friend you made while in town, and you didn’t want to risk losing that. You had to be perfect, look perfect, act perfect. 

Christ, this was all starting to be too much….. 

‘It’s just a beach day with friends. Stop overthinking it,’ you told yourself, trying to dispel the panic attack that threatened to come on as you ascended the stairs. A hand lingered on the bell as you looked through the frosted glass window and saw figures moving...and male voices. 

You couldn’t do it, you wanted to so badly, but you just couldn’t. You started down the stairs back towards the gate, already working on the apology you would tell Frankie when you saw him again. You hoped he wouldn’t be mad. As soon as your sandals hit the broken shells of the driveway, you heard someone call out from behind you. 

“Summer?” It was Frankie, standing on the landing, front door ajar. “Are you alright?”

You thought quickly, “Oh uh yeah, sorry. I just forgot to close the gate.”

Frankie glanced at the gate, then back to you. “Don’t bother, we’re going to head out soon, anyway. Come inside for a second, my friends are here, they wanna meet you.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, smiling perhaps a little too forcefully.

Frankie let you step inside first before closing the door behind him. His house was nice and a lot more put together than you had expected. There were curtains next to the sliding glass door, nautical paintings leading up the steps, and live plants hanging in the windows. You wondered if he decorated himself or if he had help from Katie. 

‘Katie’ you thought, looking around. There wasn’t a picture in sight that gave a hint as to who she had been to him... she was a ghost. 

His friends were standing in the kitchen, laughing at a joke one of them told. They looked older, around Frankie’s age. Three women were sitting at the table chatting idly.

The blonde man was playing a little game with Lucy, lowering his beer bottle just enough for her to reach it, then snatching it away at the last moment. “Hey Fish!” he called “what have you been teaching your daughter? She’s trying to steal my beer!” 

The little girl giggled. 

“Knowing the weak shit you drink, I don’t really see the problem,” Frankie shot back.

This made everyone turn and look, taking notice of your presence in the room. 

“Miss Summer!” Lucy squealed, running up and crashing into you for a hug. 

“Hi” you smiled, placing a hand atop her head. 

“Are you gonna build sand castles with me today?”

“Of course.” 

“Lulu,” Frankie cut in, “where are your shoes?”

“Ummm on my bed.”

“Well, go put them on your feet, silly. We’re about to leave.”

Then, just like that, the girl was off in a blur of pink tulle. He introduced the woman at the table first, since they were closer “this is Amber, Yvonne, and Taylor.”

They all gave you a friendly smile, and Yvonne pointed out how much she liked your sundress. This made you feel a little more at ease.

Next Frankie introduced the men “Santiago, Will and Ben.”

Will was the first to speak “hey catfish’s girlfriend is real! Who knew? Pope, you owe me twenty bucks.”

Ben laughed and looked at you “you know, there’s still time to run, we’ll distract him for you.”

The words stung. What had Frankie told them? It must have been a joke... or was it a warning? You laughed lightly with the rest and moved your hair to the side, feeling as though the room had grown about ten degrees hotter. ‘If he touches me, I’ll leave…. but he knows where I live…’ 

Frankie, who was looking quite ‘sunburned’ again, adjusted his baseball cap nervously.

You knew you had to say something… “Fish?” 

“Yeah,” Ben responded, “short for Catfish…. Oh, he hasn’t told you the story yet?”

The three men looked absolutely giddy with this revelation. They were about to launch into the tale when Lucy reappeared.

“Alright,” Frankie said, jumping on the pause in the conversation. “Let’s go, I don’t want to sit in traffic all day.” He turned to you, reaching in his pocket and handing you his key “can you do me a favor? Can you start the car and get Lucy in her car seat? I’m going to help them load stuff in the truck.”

“Sure,” you responded, thankful for the chance to leave the house. 

“Thanks,” he said, then turned to address his daughter. “Lulu, go with Miss Summer while Daddy packs the car-”

“I wanna help!” Lucy exclaimed.

“It’s too heavy for you, baby,” Frankie said gently. “Next year you can help, I promise.”

Lucy looked like she was about to protest, so you cut in. “Lucy, we have to plan our sand castle village. I think we should make it look like the one in Frozen, but I haven’t seen the movie yet, so you have to help me.”

The little girl gasped and started towards you, you held out a hand for her to take.  The two of you walked out the door as she explained the plot. “So Anna and Elsa are sisters and they live in Arendelle…..”

As soon as you were gone, Frankie walked into the kitchen to pull the men aside. “Hey, tone it down a little, just for today.”

Ben laughed “oh come on Fish! We were just joking-”

“Look, I know that but Summer might not.”

Santiago had noticed it too. It was the way you marked the entry points when you first came in. It reminded him of that trip, a room hidden behind the wardrobe. Noticing that as a potential entry point had saved all of their lives that day. “Catfish is right, knock it off.”

Ben placed his empty beer on the counter next to the sink. “Jeez Pope you too? What are you, his mother now?”

Santiago was quick with his response “you both seem to forget the goldmine of stories we have on you.”

Will narrowed his eyes “you wouldn’t-”

 “Like that zip tie flagpole incident,” Santiago said, raising his voice. 

All three girls at the table looked up. That seemed to shut Will and Ben up for good. Satisfied by this, Santi continued, stepping forward and speaking to the men directly. “Seriously, Fry likes her, don’t scare the girl away.”

The boys could be a little brash at times, but they knew when to turn it off, especially when it came to Lucy’s well being. She was regarded as somewhat of a fifth member, dubbed ‘Fry’ after her father’s nickname. 

-

Frankie was hit by a wave of cold air as he entered the car. You were still busy chatting with Lucy from the passenger seat. “So Hans is the snowman?” 

“No, Hans is the prince, Olaf is the snowman,” Lucy informed you.

“Ohhh Olaf is the snowman.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty funny,” the little girl laughed, her brown curls bouncing as she did. 

“I bet” you smiled and looked at Frankie, who was pulling on his seat belt. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know, you looked upset before,” you pointed out.

Frankie shook his head “nope, all good. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m excited. Can’t remember the last time I went to the beach.”

He placed a hand behind your headrest, preparing to shift the car into gear, when he remembered something. He kept his voice low, not wanting Lucy to pick up on what he was saying. “They were joking before, about the girlfriend thing. I never said anything like that.”

The spark of trepidation in his eyes told you he was telling the truth, “That’s okay, I believe you.”

​​

[bqstqnbruin]

Always be my plus one - part 2

Ok I know that I should use a different gif for each part but I'm not going to. But here's part 2! It's longer than the first part so have fun.

People to thank who are amazing and I owe my whole life to even though I'm probably forgetting someone because I'm the worst: @zinka8 (I CAN FINALLY TAG YOU) @hockeywocs @calgarycanuck @chara-hugs @justjosty anyone who sent in an anon and again I'm forgetting someone so if you helped me with this and I forgot, yell at me.

But here we go! This is about 9k words, and, fun fact, this is also my 5,000th post on this blog, so that's exciting!

Hope you like it!

Read part 1 here!

Series masterlist --------------------------------

New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day

New Year’s Eve is the last day of the Georgian calendar year, marked with celebrations that last well into the next day. Huge parties take place around the world, one of the most notable being the ball dropping in Times Square in New York City, marking the new year for the eastern coast of the United States, televised with Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve hosted by Ryan Seacrest. This special each year includes a packed Times Square, performances, interviews, and general excitement to put whatever happened in the past year behind them. Likewise, in Canada, the CBC has hosted a similar countdown special since 2017, including live music and coverage of festivities in each of the provinces and timezones the country spans.

New Year’s Day is the first day of the Georgian calendar year, again marked with celebrations. In the United States, various parades take place, including the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, California, or the Mummers Parade in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. In addition, various sporting events take place as well, including the Citrus Bowl in Orlando, Florida, the Outback Bowl in Tampa Bay, Florida, the Rose Bowl Game in Pasadena, California, and the Sugar Bowl in New Orleans, Louisiana, all post-season college football games, and the National Hockey League's outdoor game, the Winter Classic, typical showcasing a major regional rivalry. The day typically includes people already failing at keeping up with their New Year’s resolutions, whatever it was they promised to do every day of the year (such as working out, flossing, getting more sleep) already not going well.

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December 27, 2021

Lucy had insisted Anne go with her to the mall to go shopping when she found out that she was going to a New Year’s Eve party with Tyson’s teammates. Once her older sister found out that Anne’s ‘mystery man’ was a professional hockey player, she went practically bat shit trying to figure out more information about the two of them since Anne had yet to tell her anything.

If only she knew there was nothing to tell.

“Come on, what about this?” Lucy asks, holding up a dress. Anne wasn't sure that it would go past her butt, not to mention the open back and the plunging neckline. Lucy had to know that Anne would never, on any occasion, wear a dress like that. It would look good on Lucy, and Lucy would be comfortable in it, but not Anne.

“No,” Anne tells her, continuing to look through the rack for anything that had more fabric to it than what Lucy was offering her. There was nothing wrong with the dresses, really, and Lucy was normally pretty good about picking things out that Anne would actually like, but something about this being a dress for what sort of was, sort of wasn’t a date with a guy she spilled her coffee all over was making her more nervous than she needed to me.

“But it’s for your man. On New Year’s Eve. It doesn’t hurt to look a little sexy,” Lucy begs, making sure to add a little shoulder shimmy at the word ‘sexy’ for emphasis.

‘He’s not my man,’ Anne wanted to say. But she wasn’t about to spill that secret before Lucy even met him. It would be easier to just tell them they broke up by Valentine’s Day. “Tyson wouldn’t want me to wear anything that would make me uncomfortable,” she lets out instead.

Lucy sighs, pulling out dress after dress to show to Anne. “Ok, how about this: what color do you want to wear and how long do you want it to be?” Anne shrugs, not having thought about it in the slightest. “Well what’s Tyson wearing? Are you matching with him?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Annie!” Lucy practically screams the nickname her family decided they were going to call her, a few of the other store patrons turning to glare at Lucy’s outburst. “How do you not know what your boyfriend is wearing to a Colorado Avalanche New Year’s Eve party?”

'Not my boyfriend' she thought. “I don’t dress him. Do you know what Jason is going to wear for every party?”

Rolling her eyes, she holds up another dress that Anne turns down. “Well, since I’ve known my man since we were in diapers, I know his style, and therefore, know what he could potentially wear before I tell him what he’s going to wear.”

Anne lets out a sigh, wandering away from her sister while she continues to go through what seemed to be endless rows of dresses. Part of Anne wished she was like her sister: lucky enough to find a man that she would love forever when she was young, never having to worry about anything. The other part of Anne wished her family wasn’t so annoying about her finding a man, wishing that Sebby didn’t steal her phone and see Tyson’s name, and that their mom hadn’t come down and jumped to conclusions before she had a chance to defend herself.

“Hey,” Lucy comes up to Anne, “Why don’t we grab some food and then try a different store.” Anne nods, Lucy linking her arm in her sisters before taking her out of the store. “Have you met any of Tyson’s teammates before? I mean, you have to mean a lot to him if he’s bringing around the guys he spends the most time with.”

“He’s told me a little bit about all of them, but I haven’t met them yet.”

“You know this is big, then, right?” Lucy says, finding a line at the food court for them to order from.

Even if Lucy hadn’t picked a place that Anne wasn’t too fond of, her words made Anne lose her appetite. As far as she knew, Anne’s family thought they were dating, which they weren’t, while Tyson’s teammates thought they were friends, which they were. That’s what they had agreed to. They just needed to make it to New Year’s Day and then this would all be over.

Lucy keeps talking, rattling off information about Tyson’s teammates that Anne was sure she had found on their Wikipedia pages, Lucy’s ‘top of her class,’ ‘photographic memory’ coming out while Anne stayed silent.

“Look, Anne,” Lucy says once she gets the food she ordered for both of them, “if he likes you enough to bring you around his teammates, that’s a good thing. Think of it like Jason asking me to go to his soccer games when we were freshmen. He wants you to be at something important for him.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Anne shrugs, “I’m worried about bringing him into the belly of the beast the next afternoon.”

“Why, because you’ll be hungover and Ma and Dad haven’t seen you that way yet?” Lucy asks, smiling with her fork between her teeth.

Throwing her head back and groaning, Anne starts, “No. Ideally, we’ll still be drunk and calling you or Matthew to come to pick us up. Remember what Mom was like when I introduced you all to Andy?”

“Well, yeah, it was hate at first sight. And she was right to feel that way, obviously. If you think Tyson is the ‘one,’ then you’ll be fine.”

Anne chokes on the fries she was picking at when Lucy says that. “The ‘one’? Please. I wouldn’t know if he was the ‘one’ at this point. Right now, he’s my ‘plus one' at best.”

Lucy shrugs, a sly smile on her face as the two of them continue to eat in silence.

The two of them venture to another store, Anne not having high hopes in finding a dress, knowing that she was going to have to resort to wearing something old that probably wouldn’t be very ‘New Year’s Eve’ themed, or borrow something from Lucy, who, albeit having great style, definitely didn’t have anything that she would want to wear. Maybe she could call Stephanie or her cousin Lauren and see if they could pity her enough to let her borrow something.

Lucy went to the dress rack, Anne just wandered around the store. At this point, she didn’t even care if she found a dress; a long shirt would be just fine. She was nowhere near her sister or the dresses, but she saw something out of place, a skirt and sleeves peeking out in the middle of pant legs. She picked up the dress, solid black, which would probably fit her like a glove, off the shoulder. A black choker, which she had, and a nice pair of heels would make the dress perfect. And it was even on sale. Someone had probably put it there in order to hide it, but Anne didn’t know that for a fact, so could she really feel bad about wearing it?

She practically ran through the store to find her sister, grabbing her by the arm to the dressing room despite the stack of dresses on Lucy’s arm that were probably going to end up back on the rack or in Lucy’s own closet.

Anne looked at herself in the mirror, excited for the first time for Tyson to see her on New Year’s Eve wearing something like that. The two had been talking nonstop, but Anne had made it clear they were friends and that she wasn’t looking for anything. If something came along, she would know it, and honestly, she didn’t know it with Tyson.

But picturing him seeing her in the dress gave her a glimmer of hope that it was Tyson, even if he wasn’t the ‘one’ like Lucy had been badgering her about earlier.

“Hey, Annie, come on!” Lucy snaps Anne out of her fantasy, banging on the door to show her, “Jason texted me that he and the girls are going to be home in an hour with dinner so you can’t take all day.”

“You really think putting on this dress is going to take an hour?” Anne huffs, opening the door from the dressing room stall.

“Well, it depends on how many dresses you try,” Lucy starts, cutting herself off when she sees her sister in the dress. “Oh, Anne.”

“You like it?” she asks, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. It was a simple dress, knit and insignificant. She had no idea why she was so excited about it.

“I do,” Lucy says, coming up behind Anne and resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder as the two of them admire Anne in the mirror. “And you know who else is going to love it? Tyson.”

Anne took in a deep breath, Lucy rubbing her back between her shoulders before she let her get changed back into her clothes. ‘Tyson was going to love it.’ Anne hoped so.

=============

December 31, 2021

Tyson said he was going to be at Anne’s place at 9:15 to pick her up and drop off stuff at her place to stay over. Since they were going to be together all night, it was easier if Tyson stayed with Anne after the party before needing to drive to Anne’s uncle’s house the next afternoon.

But it was 9:30, and Anne was sitting on her couch, waiting for the boy who was supposed to fake being her boyfriend tomorrow to show up to take her to a party with a bunch of people who had no idea who she was or that this scenario was going to be happening the next day.

How did Anne end up like this? What if he didn’t show up? Why did she let her mom and siblings take over the conversation about her life and let them believe that Tyson was her boyfriend? And why did he agree to it?

Anne gets snapped out of her downward spiral of thoughts by her phone ringing, Tyson calling to hopefully tell her that he was waiting to be let in. “You said you were going to be here at 9:15,” she answers, not letting Tyson say anything.

“Well, traffic,” he explains, “It’s New Year’s Eve and I didn’t want to speed, either, and end up getting pulled over for that. Can you come let me in? It’s cold.”

Anne gets up from her couch, venturing downstairs in the slippers she was keeping on until the last minute. The heels Lucy had let her borrow weren’t uncomfortable, but she wasn’t about to wear them around her apartment building if she didn’t have to. She spots Tyson sitting on the couches in the lobby, going up to him. He was looking down at his phone, but seeing him made her heart race. He had on a white button-down with the top two buttons undone, a black jacket, and black pants on. She goes up to him, resting her hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

Tyson looks up, unable to find the words when he sees Anne. He stands up, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Anne sees this and lets out a small laugh. “Are you ok?” she asks, her nerves of seeing him dissipate while he acts like this.

“You’re,” he starts, letting out a breath as he looks her up and down. He shakes his head, a lazy smile on his face. “You’re beautiful.”

Anne laughs, grabbing his bag for him and leading him back upstairs to her apartment. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“You know,” Tyson starts when the two of them get to her door, “pretending to be your boyfriend really isn’t going to be that difficult.”

“Yeah,” Anne scoffs, putting down Tyson’s bag with a thud by the couch, “and if you keep flirting with me like you mean it, then they’ll really believe you.” Anne’s back was turned to Tyson, so she didn’t see the look on his face, him biting his lip at her words that she thought he was just pretending. “You’re staying over for a night, what the hell could you have brought with you?” she asks him.

Tyson clears his throat, still not over Anne’s little dig about him pretending to flirt with her. He’s been flirting with her since they met, has she really not noticed? “Uh, you didn’t tell me how formal or casual this is at your uncle’s so I just packed a few options.”

“Huh, I never pegged you for a fashionista,” Anne teases, putting on her shoes and coat as Tyson orders the Uber to take them to the venue.

“Apparently you’re never going to peg me at all,” Tyson mumbles, not loud enough for Anne to hear.

“Sorry?”

“Uh, the Uber will be here in a few minutes so we should get downstairs,” he tries to save himself.

“But,” Anne says, locking her door and following Tyson back down to the lobby, “You can pretty much wear anything to Uncle Vince’s house as long as it isn’t a Juventus shirt.”

“Juventus?”

“That’s Napoli’s biggest rival. It would be like me wearing, I don’t know,” Anne says as they both get into the car that had pulled up, “a Red Wings or a Wild shirt to something for you guys.”

Tyson can’t help but smile, even though he knows it’s probably meaningless. Anne had made it clear that the two of them were just friends. But what if, “you like hockey?”

Anne shrugs, looking out the window as they drove into the city. “I don’t hate it, but I couldn’t tell you much about it. I’m more of a basketball girl, honestly.” Tyson scoffs, Anne turning to him. She had a smile on her face, trying to hide the slight insult she felt by the noise he made. “What?”

“Hockey is clearly better.”

“You’re just biased.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” he teases her, reaching over and nudging her arm. His hand lingers on her arm for a little bit, not really thinking about Anne’s noticeable settling into his touch. “Um,” he clears his throat, taking his arm back and praying that it was dark enough that Anne couldn’t see the red on his face, “What are your teams?”

“Men’s are the Nuggets, of course, women are the Seattle Storm, and college I go for UConn.”

“Did you go there?”

Anne shakes her head, Tyson admiring the way her hair framed her face, thankful that she was looking out the window instead of at him. “Nope, I went to CU Denver. My dad’s other brother, Johnny, went to UConn, and when I was born, that was around the start of the women’s dynasty that they have. When my dad was away on trips and mom was working, he and Aunt Lisa would watch the four of us and always have the UConn games on. I fell in love with Diana Taurasi, Sue Bird, Maya Moore, Stephanie Dolson. I grew up wanting to play basketball and be like them, so I played basketball.”

“Did you in college?”

“No,” Anne laughs, looking at the building they were pulling up to. “I played until high school, and was definitely not good enough to play in college. I still love it, though.”

Tyson smiles at her, getting out of the car and rushing to the other side to help her out, linking his arm in hers to escort her in. “I love that,” he whispers to her, walking in and thankful that he had Anne on his arm that night.

The guys weren’t necessarily on his case about finding someone the way it seemed like Anne’s parents were, but that didn’t stop the chirping about him never having a girlfriend for as long as he was on the team. They knew she was his friend, but, hey, it was better than nothing.

Anne had no idea where Tyson took her, not recognizing the building they had walked into, but she was speechless at the sight of the grand ballroom, the lighting just dim enough that she couldn’t help but feel at peace, the noise from Tyson’s teammates and their families taking that away and leaving her overwhelmed. Tyson had slipped away to hang up their coats and grab drinks, leaving Anne to fend for herself for the time being.

She knew they weren’t late by any means but based on the sobriety, or lack thereof, that everyone was displaying, an outsider would think that Tyson and Anne had shown up hours late, everyone seemingly on at least their third drink of the night, if not more. Anne worked her way to the side of the room, giving herself a good view of the bar where Tyson was, hoping that he could find her after he was done chatting with whoever it was that had his attention.

“You look almost too comfortable for someone just watching everyone on the side. Who are you here with?” someone interrupts her thoughts. She snaps her attention to the mystery man standing next to her, leaning against the wall and looking out at the crowd as they danced and sang, drank and had fun. He was the same height as Tyson, just about, probably not that much younger but the rosiness on his cheeks made him look years younger than both her and Tyson.

“I’m here with Tyson,” she tells him, waving to the guy who was supposed to be by her side that night.

“You’re the girl who spilled her coffee on him when we went to the hospital for the charity event,” Rosy Boy laughs.

Anne scoffs, “I wish that wasn’t my legacy, but here we are.”

The two of them stand and watch everyone, laughing as some of the kids pretend to chase around the adults, one of them catching someone by the leg as the man pretended to fall down. “That’s our captain, Gabe,” Rosy Boy tells her, “being chased by Naylah, Nazem’s daughter.”

“So, Gabe, Nazem, Tyson,” Anne says, pointing at the only three men of the Avalanche that she knew, “You?”

“Cale Makar.”

“Anne DeFormicola.”

Cale smiles at her, turning his body so he was facing her directly. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Anne could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks, thankful that her hair was down to cover the red that she knew had appeared on her ears. “Uh, are you and Tyson together?” Cale asks, his voice shaking as he prayed he didn’t make the mistake of flirting with one of his teammate’s girls.

“No,” Anne tells him, “We’re just friends.”

Cale lets out a sigh of relief. “Good, I, uh,” he stammers, Anne’s confused look making him nervous despite the smile that was on her face, “I mean, good, good for me. You? Us? I don’t know what I’m saying.”

The two of them laugh together, Anne seeing Tyson out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t look particularly thrilled as he watched her and Cale talking, the distance between them shrinking as the conversation proceeded.

Before she knew it, Tyson was by her side, a glass of wine in hand for her that he practically thrust in her hand. “So, how’s Cale treating you?” Tyson asks, not hiding the discontent he felt seeing Anne and Cale so obviously flirting.

Anne watches Tyson down his drink, a little too fast for her liking, especially considering Cale was obviously uncomfortable by what his teammate was doing in that moment. “Very well, we were having a good conversation.” Anne sips her wine, Cale mumbling something and slipping away. “What was that about?”

“I want you to be careful?” Tyson says as if it were obvious, even though he was lying. He didn’t want to have to see Anne flirting with his teammate all night.

“Of who, Cale? Didn’t you tell me he was the human equivalent of a puppy?” Tyson rolls his eyes, looking over to the bar and already wishing he had more to drink before having this conversation. “What’s the worst he’s going to do? Bite my ankles? Bark when he wants to go play outside?”

“Ok, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” Anne studies his face, the way he bit his lip as he tried to find his words. “You remind me of Sebby.”

“Your little brother?” Tyson asks, not really wanting to be compared to him.

“He’s really protective of me. We’re all protective of each other, but he’s especially protective of me. You’re probably the same way with Kacey, right?”

Tyson swallows hard, nodding. “Yeah.” He wasn’t even just friend-zoned: he was sibling-zoned.

“You just don’t want me to get hurt,” Anne reasons, already finishing her wine. It’s not like it was that much in the glass. “I think if anyone was going to hurt me, it wouldn’t be Cale.”

The two of them stand there, watching Tyson’s teammates dancing as the music changed to something more upbeat. On the nearest table, Tyson put down his and Anne’s empty glasses, extending his hand out to Anne in a bid to lead her to the dance floor. Anne hesitates, not really too fond of dancing, but then Tyson smiled at her, raising his eyebrows, and for whatever reason, she felt like she had to go with him.

His hand found the small of her back, holding her close enough that they could still talk over the blaring from the music, his other hand in hers as he tried to get her to move to the rhythm of the song. It’s not that Anne was uncoordinated, but she just wasn’t that great with dancing. “I would have thought you were better at this,” Tyson teases her, looking down at their feet as Anne steps on for what he thought was the fourth time.

“I will gladly go back to my place against the wall and watch you make a fool out of yourself by yourself instead,” she jokes, rolling her eyes as Tyson spins her around.

He pulls her in closer than before, the music changing to a slower song. “I don’t think you want to do that,” Tyson tells her, his forehead pressed against hers. He could kiss her right now if she let him. This was technically their second date, if they considered the coffee place their first. And Tyson did. He didn’t know why he wanted this girl in front of him so badly so fast, but there was just something about her that he had to be with her.

Before Anne could say anything, she feels someone tapping on her shoulder. Pulling away from Tyson, she sees Cale standing there, his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. His entire face was red, clearly nervous, as he started, “Uh, sorry, but I was wondering if I could dance with Anne?”

Anne smiles at him, looking over at Tyson to signal that she wanted to. Cale was adorable, and something about him left Anne unable to say no to him. Tyson gives a sad smile, releasing Anne from his grasp. “I’m going to go get another drink,” he says, leaving his date and teammate alone to be closer than they were before. He couldn’t be with a girl that didn’t want to be with him, he thought, downing the drink he got probably too fast. At least tomorrow he could pretend that the two of them were together, pretending that he was hers and she was his.

But for now, he had to watch Anne smiling and staring at Cale, his teammate holding her so close that Tyson wanted nothing more than to be Cale.

Tyson had his back against the bar, watching Cale and Anne dance and have fun when JT came up to him. “Didn’t you bring a date?” JT was the only one Tyson had told about the fake dating plan between him and Anne.

“Yep.”

“She in the bathroom?”

“She’s dancing with Cale,” Tyson says, raising what he thinks was his third drink in their direction. He was praying that they couldn’t get any closer than they were now, but the way Anne was smiling, he knew that was what she wanted.

JT looks between Anne and Cale together and Tyson’s near angry expression as he took another sip of his drink. “Oh, I get it,” JT realizes, Tyson side-eyeing his friend. “You like her, and now you’re seeing her with Cale and you’re jealous.”

Tyson could feel himself start to panic. He did like her, but he wasn’t about to let everyone know that. “No,” he lies, JT scoffing at him. He hated that he knew him so well. “Maybe.”

“Well, then why aren’t you the one dancing with her?” JT asks, Tyson watching Anne throw her head back laughing, Cale burying his head in her shoulder, a smile just as big as hers on his face.

“She wanted to dance with him. What was I going to do, say ‘no?’

“Yes.”

“No,” he rebuts, signaling the bartender for yet another drink. “At least I can pretend to date her around her family,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, until she pretends to dump you because she’s really dating Cale.”

“Maybe in the new year you should try to be more helpful instead of whatever you are now,” Tyson snaps. “Sorry,” he mumbles into the fresh drink he was bringing to his lips, planning on downing it as fast as he got it. If he had to watch Anne dancing with Cale, he might as well be drunk so he can’t remember it in the morning.

“It’s almost midnight,” Cale whispers to Anne.

“Yeah,” she smirks, having a feeling she knew where this was going, especially judging by the way his grip tightened around her waist.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, getting nervous about what he wanted to ask her. “Who are you kissing at midnight?"

Anne can’t help but smile, his innocence endearing to her. Tyson and JT were still watching the two of them dance even though Anne and Cale were too focused on each other to notice. “I think it depends on your answer,” she flirts.

“I was kind of hoping it would be you,” he tells her.

Anne laughs, “Yeah, I got that,” she tells him, running her hand through his hair at the nape of his neck, sending a chill down his spine. “I was hoping it would be you, too,” she tells him, closing her eyes with their foreheads pressed against each other. She almost wished she had spilled her coffee on Cale instead of Tyson, not needing to pretend to date him tomorrow and instead just date Cale and date him for real. It might have been the alcohol or the night that was making her feel this way, but Cale was not a hard guy to like.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Tyson mumbles, not wanting to see Anne and Cale anymore, setting his drink down and leaving the room before JT could protest.

Soon after, everyone began their countdown to midnight, chanting while Anne and Cale stayed silent.

Anne knew Cale wanted to kiss her before the countdown was over. He was hovering against her lips as soon as someone yelled ‘ten!’ She didn’t know what it was about him, but she was ready to kiss him, not waiting for everyone to get past ‘five’ before she connected with him for a second, already wanting more as soon as they started.

Cale pulled away fast, smiling, moving his hands from her waist to cup her face, kissing her as soon as everyone around them was screaming ‘Happy New Year!’ When they finally pulled away, Cale’s entire face was red, and Anne knew that there was some color on her cheeks, too. Kissing Cale was something else, but something was missing. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

=============

January 1, 2022

Anne and Cale danced a little longer, some of the guys and their families starting to leave.

“I think I have to go find Tyson,” Anne tells Cale, realizing she hadn’t seen the boy she came with for the better part of an hour.

“Uh, wait,” Cale says as Anne starts to pull away, Anne stopping as Cale smiles at her. He puts on her jaw, tilting her head up to kiss her again. “Can I see you again?”

Anne smiles, biting her lip. “I’d like that. But I really have to find Tyson.”

The two of them start walking around, trying to locate their lost boy. “Are you coming back with us?”

“Us?”

“Tys and I live in the same building,” Cale explains, part of him wanting to ask Anne to go home with him.

Before he can, Anne starts, “No, Tyson is staying at my place tonight. We have something tomorrow. Today,” she corrects herself.

“Oh, ok. Well, then, can I get your number?”

“When we find Tyson because he has the ticket for our coats and my phone is in my coat,” she explains, regretting giving everything to Tyson.

“Anne!” they hear someone yell, turning around to see Tyson stumbling over despite JT trying to help him up. Anne hadn’t told him not to get very drunk out of caution for having to deal with her family in a few hours, but now she was regretting forgetting.

“How much did he drink?” Anne panics, slinging Tyson's free arm around her shoulder.

“When I got to him he was already on four and I think he had at least three more while I was with him. I couldn’t tell you what he had on his own,” JT explains, the four of them getting their stuff and trying to get out while Tyson could barely walk.

Tyson mumbles something, trying to lean his head against Anne’s shoulder while they walked, despite the three-inch height difference that would have been bigger had Anne not been wearing heels. JT asks him to repeat it while he orders and Uber to get Tyson and Anne home. “Anne’s so pretty,” Tyson says, practically screaming it in Anne’s ear.

“Thank you, Tyson,” she says, trying to be as sweet as she could despite her anger she felt for him getting this drunk.

Tyson keeps babbling incoherently, none of them wanting to try to figure out what he was saying while they were waiting in their Ubers.

“Hey, Anne, hand me your phone,” JT asks, trying to reach out to her with his free hand while also making sure Tyson didn’t fall over or fall on Anne. She does as he asks, Cale standing there wondering why he didn’t just do that in the first place. “Text me when you two get back to your place and let me know how he is before you leave for your Uncle’s.”

“Yeah, of course,” Anne says, not even thinking about how he would have known where the two of you were going later.

Before Cale can ask for Anne’s phone, the Uber for her and Tyson pulls up. “Are you sure you’re good to get him back?” Cale asks her while JT gets Tyson in the car safely.

Anne nods, putting her hand on Cale’s bicep to reassure him. “Yeah, he should sober up enough to walk with just me during the drive back. Thank you, though,” she says, giving him a quick kiss before climbing into the car.

“I wish it was me,” Tyson slurs, his head on Anne’s shoulder as the Uber pulls away.

“What’s that, Tyson?” Anne asks.

“I wish it was me that was kissing you.”

Anne looks at him, his eyes closed as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “When?”

“At midnight. I wanted to kiss you at midnight. I just hope you didn’t kiss Cale. That would make me sad,” he says, letting out a yawn.

Before Anne could say anything to respond, Tyson was asleep, leaving her alone with her thoughts, and the Uber driver probably hoping they remembered this to tell their friends in the morning. Why would he have wanted to kiss her? They were just friends. They had both made it very clear that everything they were doing was just out of friendship because they both needed someone to be there for the other and just pretend they were something they were not.

This wasn’t going to be like one of those ‘fake dating’ tropes that Anne had read in books when she was a teenager or in rom coms. Those weren’t real life. That didn’t happen.

Anne gets Tyson up to her apartment, surprised that she was able to drag him out of the Uber and balance him long enough that he didn’t fall over and take her with him to the ground. She practically threw him onto her bed, getting him in position so no matter what happened he would be fine. He was asleep almost immediately, a soft snore coming from his lips.

Anne pulls out her phone to text JT that his teammate was asleep, getting herself ready to go sleep on the couch.

The next morning, Anne woke up to Tyson sitting at her kitchen table, already having helped himself to a cup of coffee. “You look like you’re feeling great,” Anne commented, Tyson clearly hungover from the night before.

“Why did I wake up in your bed and not your couch?” Tyson asked.

Anne shrugs, fixing herself a cup of coffee to join him. “You’re my guest and the couch isn’t the most comfortable thing to fall asleep on if you aren’t used to it.”

“You are?”

“I’ve fallen asleep plenty of times while I was reading on that couch,” Anne tells him, wishing she had something to offer him to eat. “Uh, when we get to my uncle’s house, there’s going to be a ton of food so if we didn’t eat now, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

Tyson nods, looking down at his coffee. He wished that he didn’t have to pretend to be Anne’s boyfriend. He already wanted to be more, but Cale was already closer to that in one night than Tyson was in how many weeks. “What do I need to know about your family before I meet them?”

Anne starts rambling about her family: her grandparents moved back to New York which was where they grew up so she hasn’t seen them in a while because they’re too old to make the trip out here and she hasn’t had time to make the trip to see them. They were going to her Uncle Vince’s house, her dad’s older brother. He has three kids, Michael, Emily, and Spencer, all of them dating someone. Then there’s Uncle Johnny, her dad’s younger brother, who has two kids, Lauren and Landon, and three grandkids from Lauren: Christopher, Lydia, and Henry.

Tyson didn’t even know if he was going to remember everything she was saying; from the food that Johnny brings just for Landon because of allergies, or the food that was designated as ‘the kid's food’ which was absolutely off-limits unless you were under the age of five years old. The Sam Adams’ beer is only meant for Aunt Lisa and Aunt Laura unless they offer it to you, but the wine is a free for all because it’s guaranteed that everyone of age brought their own bottle anyway, including Anne.

“Wait, but I don’t have a bottle,” Tyson asks, both of them getting up to get ready.

Anne smiles at him, going into one of her cabinets. “You want white or red?” she asks, holding up two bottles. “Because, as you know, I’m partial to red.”

Tyson laughs, taking the bottle of white wine from her, not even sure if he should be drinking anything given the night before. He was just lucky he somehow didn't feel worse despite how much he had. “I knew you were my kind of girl.”

They stand there for a second, neither of them sure how to react or what to do. “We should go get ready,” Anne says, bringing the bottles over to where she kept her keys so she wouldn’t forget them.

She retreats to her room, leaving Tyson to get ready out in the open of the rest of her apartment. That wasn’t a moment they just had in her kitchen, she tells herself. She puts on a pair of jeans, trying to find a shirt suitable enough for her mom to not nag her about, finally settling on a sweater that she was almost sure was Lucy’s that she stole a few months ago.

“Hey, Anne,” she hears Tyson calling her. “Someone’s calling you.”

An unknown number flashed on her screen in Tyson's hand, her forgetting she left the phone by the couch. Normally an unsaved contact was something that she wouldn’t answer, but the Calgary area code, for no reason whatsoever, told her that she had to answer it. “Hello?”

“Anne? It’s Cale. Sorry, I got your number from JT.”

Anne smiles, looking at Tyson who could hear his teammate's voice just loud enough that it made him upset. Tyson’s words from the night before rang through Anne’s mind as she finally answered him back, “Hey, no, it’s fine. What’s up?” Anne goes back into her room to finish getting ready, putting Cale on speaker as she does.

“I just wanted to check on you. And Tyson, I mean, that you were ok with him last night.”

Anne laughs at his nerves, the same ones that came through when they were first talking last night that she was thankful had faded as time went on. “Yeah, we’re fine. We’re getting ready to head out, though.”

“Any idea what time you would be done? I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight?”

She could hear his voice shaking, wishing that she could say yes. “I can’t tonight, but maybe another time?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says, both of them saying goodbye as Anne grabs what she needs to head out.

“You ready?” she asks Tyson. He looked good, a simple black button-down he had paired with jeans. Why did he have to look good? Tyson nods, grabbing the wine while Anne grabbed her keys.

The two of them drive in silence, her phone plugged into her car with Cale and JT’s contacts popping up on the screen on her center console as they were texting her. “I’m glad you got along with some of the guys last night,” Tyson tells her, finally breaking the silence between them.

“Yeah, me too. Especially since someone seemed to enjoy the bar more than anything else,” she teases.

“Hey, the bartender was attractive, and giving free drinks, what was I supposed to do?”

Anne laughs, knowing that wasn’t the real reason he was there the entire night. She didn’t know what that reason was, but it wasn’t because of the looks of the person giving Tyson drinks. “What do you remember from last night?”

Tyson hesitates, really not sure what to answer. “I remember the drinks and you were dancing with Cale at some point.”

“You remember none of the Uber drive back?”

He almost did. He knew he had fallen on Anne’s shoulder, but he didn’t remember getting into the car with her. He wasn’t even sure that Anne was the one that got him in the car. “Not really, no.”

“Ok,” Anne says, partially thankful for that. She wasn’t sure she would want to relive the part of the night, nor did she think Tyson would either.

She pulls up to her uncle’s house, already seeing Lucy’s car and her cousin Spencer's sitting in the driveway. “Ready to enter the belly of the beast?” she asks him, patting his thigh as a sign of encouragement.

Tyson looks out to the house, seeing someone standing in the doorway waiting for them to get out of the car. “We’ve gotta start acting like a couple, now, don’t we?” he says, leaning closer to her across the center console.

Anne rolls her eyes, knowing that he wanted a kiss or something, anything to show Aunt Laura that Tyson was actually her boyfriend. She does kiss him, sweet and slow. Tyson was sure if they weren’t being watched, he would have gone for more, but knowing he couldn’t was killing him. He had to make the most of the time he had with Anne’s family.

When Anne pulled away, she reached up to Tysons face, grazing her thumb along his beard as his hand connected with hers. She didn’t know why, but she kissed him again, their foreheads pressed together as they sat there in her car. It was different kissing him compared to Cale. A good different, and like last night, she couldn't put her finger on why. She almost forgot where they were, startled by Aunt Laura knocking on her window.

Anne’s face had to be bright red, embarrassed that her aunt saw whatever moment, real or fake or whatever that was, while sitting in the driveway of her house. She greets her aunt as she gets out of the car, handing her the two bottles of wine.

“You must be Tyson!” she says, more excited than Anne thought she would be. “Teresa’s told us so much about you, come in, come in,” she gestures. Anne was sure that she would have dragged him in by the collar of his shirt if she didn’t have the wine in her hands already.

Tyson looks at Anne, confused. “I have no idea what my mom could have said to her,” Anne says. Tyson shrugs, grabbing Anne’s hand as she leads him into the house.

Lucy comes running up as soon as Anne steps through the door, a baby that couldn’t be more than a year old in her arms. “Hey there, Hazel,” Anne coos, taking her goddaughter from her sister. Hazel reaches out, grabbing Anne’s hair as Anne winces at the slight pain from the baby’s pull. “This is Tyson.”

“Hi, pretty girl,” Tyson says, Hazel reaching out, squirming to get away from Anne and into Tyson’s arms. “Is it ok if I hold her?” he asks Lucy, waiting for her to nod before Anne passes her off to him.

Lucy pulls her sister aside, a silly grin on her face. “He’s perfect,” she gushes, “Look at him!” Tyson was bouncing Hazel up and down, Hazel shrieking with glee with him.

“He’s not perfect,” Anne says, “but he might be close.” The sisters laugh, Lucy hugging Anne from behind while they continue to watch Anne’s ‘boyfriend’ interact with Lucy’s youngest daughter. Anne wasn’t even sure if she was really pretending as the rest of her family came into her uncle’s house.

Teresa was practically attached to Tyson the entire time, as were Skylar and Harper once Tyson started playing with them. Literally, Tyson was walking around Uncle Vince’s house with Skylar and Harper clinging to each of his legs. Tyson was the center of attention, Anne wishing that it wasn’t because everyone was just finally excited that Anne found a man.

“What do you think of him?” Anne asks Sebby, the two of them watching Tyson and Matthew talking as if there was no one else was in the room. She had heard ‘touchdown’ and ‘linebacker’ come up in conversation, meaning Matthew was going on a rant about the Broncos, something that he did way too often.

Sebby looks him up and down, pursing his lips while he thought about it. “I’m not sure I trust him.”

“Oh, come on,” Anne whines.

“He’s an athlete. And a professional one, at that,” Sebby throws his hands up in defense. Growing up, Sebby was the only one who didn’t really like sports, feeling they were a waste of time when he could be doing something like reading or studying. Sports were only relevant when his siblings were involved, otherwise, he hated them.

“Give him a chance. Please?” Anne begs, not even sure if it were necessary. “He’s not Andy.”

Sebby narrows his eyes at his sister, jumping slightly as Tyson and Matthew start laughing. “Why didn’t you mention him before Christmas?”

“If you remember, I didn’t mention him at Christmas, you did,” Anne scolds him, trying to figure out what story to tell her brother. “And, it was still new. I didn’t want to say anything if it wasn’t going to be something.”

“Is it?”

“Maybe. I think so,” Anne lies. At least, she thought she was lying.

Tyson comes over to Anne while she was talking with Sebby about his upcoming semester, his last one before he graduated from college and hopefully entered law school. He wraps his arms around her, kissing her cheek before resting his chin on her shoulder. “You think I could steal her for a second?” he asks.

Sebby narrows his eyes, Tyson a little thrown off by her brother’s reaction. “Sure.”

Tyson brings Anne into another room, praying that no one would walk in on them. “We didn’t talk about anything we could say to your family about how we met,” he brings up.

“I was planning on deferring that to you since I normally can’t get a word in otherwise,” she admits, even though she hadn’t thought about it before.

“That’s not fair,” Tyson says, looking over Anne’s shoulder to see someone in her family looking at the two of them. “Your family is watching.”

Anne follows Tyson’s gaze, turning and waving at Landon and Lauren. She reaches up and puts her hand on Tyson’s cheek, Tyson taking it with his own and kissing the palm of her hand. “When you see how I get pushed aside at dinner, you’ll understand why it’s fair.”

The two of them continue talking about how they were going to go on with the rest of the day, Anne telling Tyson she was fine with everything he had done so far and really didn’t care if he kept doing it. Anne, not wanting to tell Tyson, liked what he was doing. It felt right for some reason. Was Tyson right that it should have been the two of them kissing at midnight and not her and Cale?

Tyson’s drunken confession from the night before was still ringing in her mind when everyone got called to sit down for dinner. Tyson was still, unsurprisingly, the center of attention. His hand was on Anne’s thigh for most of dinner, Lucy’s eyes never leaving as Anne rested her’s in his. The usual rounds of conversation started, asking Lucy about her medical practice, Jason about Andersen’s, his restaurant that bore his family’s name, Matthew and Steph about work at United, Sebby about how he was feeling going into this last semester of college.

Then the conversation was supposed to turn to Anne, normally swamped with questions about Anne’s lack of love life. Instead, of course, the conversation turned to Tyson.

“How did you two meet?” Teresa asks, giving a smug look to her daughter, “Anne hasn’t told us anything about you.”

Tyson hesitates, figuring Anne wouldn’t want her family knowing they met when she spilled her coffee on him. “I was out with some of my teammates after practice one day,” he starts, hoping that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was good enough. “We were at a coffee shop, and I saw Anne there grabbing something before her shift at the hospital. I saw her smile at the barista when she thanked him for taking her order and,” he looks at her, taking Anne and putting it on the table for her family to see. “Something about that smile of hers I just knew I had to talk to her. I needed her in my life and I’m happy she’s in it.”

He kisses the side of her head, whispering, “we have to remember that story now,” against her skin. When he pulls away, Anne smiles at him, signaling that she would. There was no way she could forget that honestly. Why was pretending to like him so easy?

The conversation stays on him for a little longer, Anne never being asked anything. Finally, Emily stands up with Jimmy, saying they had an announcement. “We’re engaged!” she squeals, holding up her left hand with the ring that she either just put on, or no one noticed as the family congratulated her. Jimmy had proposed at midnight, down on one knee right as whoever they were with said ‘Happy New Year!’

“Another wedding!” Teresa yells, Tony rolling his eyes next to her. He didn’t hate weddings, he hated his wife’s need to spend an extravagant amount of money on a new dress and presents for the couple every time. “And then maybe we’ll have one for Anne in the next year, too, oh Tony we’ll get to plan another wedding.”

“Mom!” Anne scolds, Tyson’s face getting bright red. “That ringing in your ears is not wedding bells.”

The rest of the dinner goes on fine, Anne and her siblings off in one of the rooms while their spouses and Tyson were nowhere to be found.

“I think Tyson’s scared of me,” Lucy says, examining her nails.

“He might just be intimidated by you, Signoria Perfezione,” Anne teases her with the nickname Lucy got when she was little, her need for order prevalent from a young age.

“Yeah, he said that Anne told him how smart you were and he didn’t want to feel stupid around you,” Matthew points out.

“Well, shouldn’t he be intimidated by Anne?” Sebby asks.

“I know you’re trying to compliment me, but your tone says otherwise,” Anne says. “Why don’t you like him?”

The three of them look at their youngest siblings. “There’s something off,” he starts, Anne feeling her heart start to race. “He’s like borderline pretending to be with you.”

“Come on, man, you’re paranoid,” Matthew scoffs, Lucy agreeing.

“I mean,” Sebby explains, “He looks at Anne like he wants to be with her, not like he actually is with her.”

“You’re just over analyzing. We’re together. Probably more together than you and Collins are,” Anne fires back, part of her hating that she was lying to her siblings, the other part of her wondering how much of it was a lie.

Sebby shrugs, “Well yeah, because we broke up.” Anne’s jaw drops, Matthew raises his eyebrows in shock, Lucy the only one to scream and actually make a verbal acknowledgment of what he just said. “Yeah, the other night. She finally blew up over the whole, ‘I don’t want to move to Boston or California,’ thing and said if I wasn’t willing to move to be with her then I wasn’t good enough for her.”

“Oh, I don’t like that,” Anne says.

"Why didn't you tell us," Lucy asks.

"I see how they act about Anne never being with someone," he says, Anne glaring at him. "I'll just find someone in law school and not say anything unless they ask. Plus, I don’t want to be that far away from you guys. Why would I stay with someone who wants me to do that?” he admits.

“Aw, you do like us!” Lucy teases him, her and Matthew tackling him in a hug while Sebby yells for them to get off, yelling louder when Anne joins in.

“Hey, um,” Tyson interrupts, “Sorry, you’re having a moment.”

“No, no, what’s up?” Anne breaks off, going over to him.

“Your aunt said dessert is out,” he tells them, or, rather, tells Anne with her siblings in earshot.

“See, you’re delusional,” Lucy tells Sebby as they walk past Anne and Tyson into the next room.

Tyson looks at her confused, waiting for an explanation. “I think Sebby’s catching on to us pretending,” she shrugs, really not that worried. She and Tyson could talk later about how long this would go on, and if anyone in the family were to find out that it was fake, Sebby would be the one to keep it quiet.

She goes into the next room, leaving Tyson there by himself. “Yeah, pretending,” he says to himself.