#it is not fun....and also i picked this moment right now to reorganize my apartment.

[nichiperi]

I think I'm gonna take a bit of a tumblr vacation for a week or two, so if I don't respond to asks or dms, just know I'm not ignoring ya! I'm just at home morphing into a creature made entirely of mucus.

See ya'll later! 👉👽👉

[prettyboybarzal]

Dancing with Our Hands Tied (6)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut (because of course there would be)

Previous Chapter // Masterlist

The arm around your waist was heavy, tattooed, and most definitely not Charlie’s. 

“Pierre,” you hissed. “Get up.” He stirred and tugged you closer. You pushed back against his chest, sounds of struggle falling from your lips as he curled his arms around you. “Let go of me.”

“YN, I’m severely hungover,” he grunted. “Can we fight later?”

“No.”

It’d been two weeks since you ended up in Pierre’s bed after a failed attempt to tell him off and since then, you’d slept with him at least three more times. You fell into a strict routine, one that didn’t include sleepovers. Surprisingly, though, you didn’t put up a fight when he started to nod off on the pillow the night before.

You shoved him one last time, this time successfully, and pulled yourself from bed. The first thing you did was pull the shades back to allow light into the room. He exclaimed at the invasion and pulled a pillow over his head.

“I’ll make you coffee, but then you gotta leave because I have things to do.”

Pierre watched you leave and sighed as soon as you were out of sight. Before getting back to your apartment the night before, he was yearning for you. Each time you were near him, he felt his hands twitch. Your midriff was exposed, jeans sitting low on your hips, and each time you passed, he wanted to sink his fingers into your flesh, or better yet, his teeth. But he couldn’t do that, not with all the eyes around you, not when Josh was clearly confused by the lack of fighting going on. 

It felt like he could breathe when you texted him to come back to your place, and when he finally slipped through your front door and his lips met yours, he was satisfied.

“You know,” he spoke as he entered the kitchen where you were making coffee. His voice was still rough from sleep. “We’ve never fucked in the morning.”

“And I’m okay with that.”

He laughed out loud, shuffling to grab a mug from the cabinets above him. You reached out and placed it back inside, then handed him a to-go cup. He rolled his eyes. 

“You’re the worst host.”

“That’s not what you were saying when I was blowing you last night.”

There was a knock at the door that prompted both your heads to snap up in confusion.

“That better not be one of the boys,” you grumbled. “I don’t think I could explain your shirtless presence in my kitchen.”

“Sure, you could,” he murmured, dropping his hands to either side of the counter beside you. He leaned in close, whispering, “You could just tell them what you tell me every time I’m inside you; I fuck you so good. You just can’t get enough.”

If there was one thing you’d learned about Pierre throughout these past few weeks, it was that he knew exactly how to throw your own attitude right back at you. 

“Gross, Pierre,” you said, slipping beneath his arms.

“You were the one that started talking about giving me head before either of us has even had coffee!”

You only allowed yourself to laugh once you were out of the kitchen and away from his ego. 

The person started to knock again and you stepped up to the door to pull it open, revealing your overly excited parents.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, panic in your eyes as they pushed past you to enter the apartment. “What do you mean?” your father asked as he helped your mother shed her jacket and hang it on the hook beside the door. “It’s your birthday! You didn’t think we’d forget to celebrate with you, right?”

“A warning would’ve been nice,” you muttered, thoughts fleeting to the shirtless man in the next room. You stood in their way, blocking the path to the kitchen in hopes that they’d just head straight to the living room and you could discreetly get rid of Pierre. Your mother had other plans, grabbing a cooler bag from your father’s hand before marching to put the food she’d brought away in the fridge.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, hands fluttering up to her eyes as she shielded herself from Pierre’s naked chest. You were only a step behind her, your father two behind you, and when she turned to look at you, you could see the blush on her cheeks. “I didn’t know you had company.” “Pierre’s leaving.”

“Pierre? No way! He’s gotta join us for your birthday brunch!” your father exclaimed. Pierre’s eyes flickered to you and then went back to your father. “We still have to thank you for dealing with Sadie when she came to visit, and also for dealing with this one every day.”

“You have your work cut out for you with her,” your mother grumbled from where she stood in the kitchen, already reorganizing all your draws and cabinets.

“Just send him a fruit basket or something.”

“YN,” your mother chastised, plates set on the counter for just a moment so she could glare at you. “If your father wants to treat him to brunch, then we will treat him to brunch.”

“I love brunch,” Pierre spoke, voice just above a whisper. You glared at him and that stupid little smirk toying at the corner of his lip, but then your father clapped in excitement. “Besides, it’s your birthday,” he emphasized, eyes wide. “I couldn’t miss that.”

“Great! Then, it’s settled,” he spoke. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom, and maybe your little boyfriend will put on a t-shirt.”

You spoke in unison.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’m not her boyfriend.”

But your dad was already down the hall, not that he would’ve listened to either of you anyway.

Pierre narrowed his eyes at you, you stuck your tongue out at him, and then he tried to catch it between his fingers, but you shoved him away to the hallway.

“Put on a damn shirt.”

As soon as he disappeared, your mother was cooing, “That’s Pierre?”

“Why do you say his name like that? Sadie says his name like that too.”

“Well, I mean, look at him.”

“I’d prefer not to,” you grumbled. She began chastising you about how miserable you were, and how there was a handsome man right in front of you, right in your kitchen as a matter of fact, and you better take advantage of it! You’re another year older! But, you let the words fall on deaf ears before leaving to find Pierre in your bedroom.

He was still shirtless, shuffling about the room for his belongings. He glanced up when you entered, and smiled as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” you said. “I don’t know when yours is either.”

“Mine’s June 24th.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeated. He rolled his eyes at you and pulled the shirt over his head. “This isn’t how this is supposed to work. We fuck and you leave, or I leave. That’s it. You don’t need to spend the day with me and my parents. Are you out of your mind?”

“I think it'll be fun,” he said. “Maybe not for you, but definitely for me, and that’s my favorite kind of fun.”

---

From: Sadie

WTF? Why is Pierre at brunch with you guys? What’s happening? Call me ASAP. I’m freaking out!!!!!

You and Sadie were freaking out for entirely different reasons. She was freaking out because she thought this meant something. You were freaking out because you were stuck with Pierre for longer than you ever wanted to be.

“You’re one of Josh’s friends?”

“Teammates,” you corrected. Pierre took a glance over at you with a soft smile. “They play for the Blue Jackets together.”

“Oh! Oh, wow,” your mother remarked. She gave you not-so subtle wide eyes that screamed, again, how perfect she thought he was. “That’s an excellent job!”

“I’m very lucky to get to do what I love for a living.”

“And you two met because of Josh?”

“Yes,” you answered tersely, not wanting to entertain this conversation for the sole purpose of keeping your mother’s nose out of your personal, or not-so personal, life. But Pierre gave in to her, as you expected him to.

“Yeah, he introduced us during my rookie season,” he answered after swallowing a forkful of eggs. “I’ll admit that I made a really bad first impression,” he began, meeting your eyes over the mimosa you were bringing to your lips. “But she never really gave me the chance to fix it, so we just went on hating each other for a really long time.”

“Well, look at you two now,” your mother raved, waving her hands between the two of you. “All is well.”

“What fixed it?” your dad asked. “I mean, this one can be as stubborn as a mule.”

“Dad.”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but sometimes you just make your mind up and that’s that. You don’t budge. I want to know how he got you to change your mind! Teach me your ways, Pierre.”

“Uh, well,” he began, choking a bit on the drink in his mouth. He knew he couldn’t give them the real reasons. He couldn’t explain that the only way you could stand each other was if he was inside of you, so he met your eyes with a look of uncertainty. 

“It was after he helped Sadie,” you answered for him. “I figured that if he’d ruin his own night to make sure she didn’t die of alcohol poisoning then maybe he wasn’t as bad as I thought he was.”

Pierre looked up at you again, eyes softer than before, but you avoided his gaze and instead focused on the food in front of you. 

Conversation picked up again, but it didn’t involve him. Your parents asked about work, you asked about home, and the conversation ended up circling back to Sadie once more. Pierre remained silent, taking in the relationship you had with your parents and how much you cared for your sister. He felt like he saw another side to you during brunch, a side that every other guy on the team had experienced and he’d yet to see. 

When the bill came, Pierre immediately reached for it, but your dad was faster and you yourself had placed your hand on his to push it away.

“They made you come,” you reminded him. “You don’t have to pay.”

“I wanted to come,” he corrected you. He leaned forward to speak directly to your father. “Mr. YLN, at least let me pick up the tip.”

Your dad sized him up for a moment, then sighed, “Fine.”

Pierre sat up victoriously, turning his hand in yours to squeeze the fingers that were resting against it before taking some cash out of his wallet. You flushed at the intimate moment and pulled your hand away. 

“Your father has one last request,” Mom announced as the group of you exited the restaurant. You turned to face her on the sidewalk, panic in your eyes. She glanced at your father, already nose deep in his phone. “Honey?”

“Huh?”

“Your next birthday surprise for YN?”

“I’m really okay with the birthday surprises, guys,” you murmured. “You being here is definitely enough.”

Pierre stifled a laugh beside you, and this time didn’t earn a glare. “Your father wants to go mini-golfing,” Mom butt in. “It’s this indoor glow-in-the-dark mini-golf he’s been following on Facebook for months now. If he doesn’t go, I’m gonna hear it for the next three months.”

“I can head home,” Pierre spoke, low and intended for you, but your father clapped him on the shoulder.

“No way, hockey star, I want to see that golf swing of yours.”

“Dad!”

“It’s not every day I get to hang out with an NHL player!”

And that’s how you ended up playing golf, in the dark, with your parents and your fuck buddy.

You never thought you’d be thankful to have Pierre around, but you were glad he stayed for mini-golf. Truthfully, you’d never been very athletic, but your dad loved sports, so you played them to humor him. Having Pierre with you just meant that all the competitiveness could stay between the men and you could enjoy sucking at sports with your mom. 

Then, you started losing all the golf balls. Honestly, your dad should’ve expected this very outcome when he decided to bring you to a glow-in-the-dark mini-golf place. 

You lost your ball, and then Pierre offered his and you lost that one too. Three holes later, there was only one ball left and your parents, as well as Pierre, were doubtful that you wouldn’t lose the last one.

“We’ll go get some more,” your dad muttered. “Hopefully, you don’t lose those too.”

You glared at him, earning a chuckle from both of your parents before they walked off to the front desk. As soon as they were gone, Pierre asked, “You’re not very good at this, huh?”

The smile was evident in his voice. 

“I don’t get three months of the year for golf practice like you do,” you muttered, refocusing on the club in your hand. “So, no, I’m not very good at this.”

“Well, for starters, you’re holding the putter all wrong,” he said. His voice was closer now and when you peeked back at him, he was only a few steps away. “Can I show you how you’re supposed to hold it or are you going to hit me over the head with it?”

“Try your luck.”

Pierre stepped up behind you, hands curling over yours to fix their placement. He peeled your fingers off the club, then placed them a bit higher than they had been. His breath fanned across your neck and your shoulders pulled up as a reaction, the tuft of air sending shockwaves through your body. He almost leaned in to place a kiss against your skin, but shook his head as if to scold himself for even thinking about it. 

“Don’t hit the ball too hard,” he spoke before taking a step back. You did as he coached you to and the ball went in the hole with one put. You exclaimed at your hole-in-one and twirled around to share the moment with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders to tug you into his chest.

“Atta girl,” he remarked in the same voice he used in the bedroom. His hand trailed along your spine and down to your ass, fingers curling into the flesh as he drank you in. You almost got lost in the moment with him, despite yourself, but then your parents appeared over his shoulder and you were shoving him away.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Tiger Woods over here,” Pierre answered, nodding at you. “She just got her first hole-in-one.”

“She’s never done that before,” your dad laughed heartily. His hand came down to pat Pierre’s shoulder. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on her.”

“Maybe,” he repeated, eyebrows quirking up at you. The twitch of your lips gave away the smile that you were suppressing, but he let it go, considering it a small victory.

---

Your parents said goodbye after mini-golf, citing the long drive home as the reason for an early departure, but your mother gave you and Pierre a fleeting look that gave you the impression that they were only leaving to give you time with him. You must’ve said it a hundred times in a hundred different ways that you weren’t dating him, but your mom always liked to believe her own delusions and you could never change her mind. 

Pierre was quiet as you drove away from mini-golf and in the direction of your apartment building, but you weren’t any more talkative than he was. How could you speak when the day sent you into a tailspin? For the first time ever, you enjoyed being around him and when the day was coming to an end, you didn’t want to see him go. 

“Are you hungry?” you asked, voice light, simultaneously trying to keep the day from ending and also all serious conversation at bay.

“Yes, starving,” he answered. “It feels like we ate forever ago.”

“Do you wanna grab something quick?”

Pierre nodded and ended up pulling into a McDonalds not far from your apartment. He ordered a large meal after you ordered your usual, and then he threw a few other unnecessary things, like a kid’s meal and a third McFlurry. 

When you got back to the apartment, he spread it all out like a buffet and you filled your paper plates with food in silence. He felt like he was struggling to come up with something to say to you for the first time ever. It was always easy to rile you up and get you talking, but he was at a loss now and he didn’t have a clue what to say.

He settled on, “I like your dad. Not that it matters, or whatever, but he’s a funny guy. Loves to chirp you almost as much as I do.”

“That’s why I can put up with you,” you responded. “I’ve had years of dealing with him.”

“Did you just compare me to your father?”

“Don’t be gross,” you barked, smacking his arm. He laughed heartily at that, crinkles at the edge of his eyes as he dug into the fries in front of him. You laughed with him, amazingly so.

Conversation died as you ate with both of your minds running at warp speed. It was hard to make sense of the day, of how much you enjoyed each other’s presence, when you were still together. But you didn’t want him to go, and he didn’t want to leave, so neither of you even suggested it. 

As he started cleaning up what was left of his meal, your phone chimed and Charlie’s name flashed across the screen. He met your eyes over the phone momentarily before you unlocked it to read the message. You stared at it, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought, then responded quickly and placed the phone face down on the counter. 

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” he spoke. “And then, uh, I guess I’ll head out.”

He disappeared down the hall and left you feeling slightly stupid after texting Charlie that you were busy. In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have done that, but you had and now you needed to convince Pierre to stay. That’s what you wanted anyway, right?”

When he came back to the kitchen, you were throwing your food out and as soon as he stepped in to grab some of his belongings, you stepped up in front of him. 

“You’re not actually leaving, are you?”

“Don’t act surprised,” he murmured. He took a step forward, forcing you to tilt your chin up further to keep eye contact with him. His thumb came up to caress your cheekbone. “You wanted me gone all day.”

“And now I want you to stay,” you whispered. You pulled him closer from the belt loops and watched his eyes rake over your body. “At least for a little while longer.”

“Why are you playing with my head?”

The smirk you shared with him was wicked as you answered, “Because it’s fun.”

His fingers slid to the back of your neck while his other arm curled around your waist to pull you into his chest. You kissed in the kitchen for what felt like an eternity, much longer than you’d ever spent on doing it before, and finally, he lifted you up to carry you down the hall to your bedroom. 

He laid you back on the bed and undressed you slowly. He kissed each inch of skin as it was exposed from beneath the fabric covering you and his hands were everywhere, squeezing the meat that he hadn’t been able to touch all day, the skin he was dying to touch. He kissed down your stomach to your thong, finger hooking beneath the waistband to tug them down and get you completely naked in front of him.

“YN, tu es si belle,” he whispered, eyes flickering back up to your face. You flushed beneath his gaze and gasped as he situated your legs over his shoulders and leaned in, breath fanning across your core. He kissed the inside of your thighs while his blue eyes drank you in. Your chest heaved in anticipation.

He held your hips down as he dove in, and within minutes your back was arched and your legs began to shake over his shoulders. You cried out as you came, fingers curled into his hair, grinding against his mouth and nose as he worked you through it. 

When he finally pulled away, he kissed up your inner thigh to let you come down from your high. Then, he crawled up the bed to hover over you, shuttering as your hands slid beneath his t-shirt to pull it over his head. His jeans were next, and finally, his boxers. When his cock was finally free, he reached over to the drawer and grabbed a condom. You slid it on for him and he dropped his head to your shoulder at the touch of your fingers around him. 

The moment it was on, you began to flip onto your stomach. That’s how he usually wanted you, but he stopped you from moving and gathered your wrists in his hand to pin them above your head. His lips met yours again, desperate and needy.

You felt the head of his cock against your mound and groaned in sexual frustration, so he reached down with his free hand and aligned himself with your core. 

“You’re okay?” he asked. You nodded, bottom lip pinned between your teeth to the point of breaking the skin. He kissed you once more, hoping that you’d relax with him and you did. With his knee, he nudged your legs apart and then he pushed his head past your folds. As you arched, his lips met your collarbone. 

“Happy birthday, baby.” 

The pet name set you on fire, but you could hardly focus on it as he thrust into you. The movement of his hips was shallow and slow, nothing like the other times he’d been between your thighs. He held you close, chest-to-chest. The level of intimacy so intense compared to those times you’d shared before when you were simply using each other to chase a feeling. This was different, and you both knew it. 

“Luc,” you sighed as he filled you up, stilling inside of you for a moment to breathe and take in the way you spoke his name--a name you’d only ever called him once and he’d wanted to hear every day since then. “Please.”

“Patience,” he spoke, rolling into you some more. “I’ll take care of you, but I wanna take my time.”

So, you let him take his time and basked into the feeling of the way he filled you up and surrounded you. You listened to the way he spoke to you, softly and often in French, and you noticed the way he responded to your body, the way that no other man ever had. He read you like a book, as terrifying and insane as it felt to realize that, and you couldn’t get enough.

He finally dropped your hands and immediately, your nails curled into his back as he worked your body. He propped your leg up on his hip to thrust even deeper than he had before and with each roll of his hips, you felt him deep inside you. You moaned against his shoulder and he cursed loudly in French as you rolled your hips to match the movement of his.

“I want to cum with you,” you whispered in his ear. He sighed, then nodded before pulling back to thrust into you with a little more power behind it. His hands found your hips as he leaned back on his knees and thrust into you, pulling you down onto his cock as he did so. You were a mess beneath him and he watched your breasts bounce as he fucked you. 

“Cum, baby,” he whispered, returning to the position he’d been in moments ago. He knew you were close, he was right behind you, and as he returned to the previous position, you shouted out. “Come on. With me.”

“Luc, you’re so good,” you moaned. “You fuck me so good.”

Pierre’s hand found your clit, thumb circling the sensitive nub as his lips met yours in a rough kiss. His heart pounds in his chest as your orgasm finally reached you, whimpering and moaning beneath him as he chased his own high. It wouldn’t take long with you unraveling beneath him and, finally, he cums, hips stuttering as he filled up the condom. He dropped his weight onto you, breathing ragged, and your hands began to scratch the skin of his back soothingly as you both caught your breath. 

About a minute later, he rolled over onto his back and discarded the condom while you ran to the bathroom. He rested against the headboard and waited for you to come back, heart still hammering in his chest from an orgasm like no other. You returned and his eyes tracked your movement across the room. 

“Do you want me to go?”

You looked up at him, a bit like a deer in headlights, and answered, “Um, no. You can stay, if you want.”

“Okay,” he said, voice cracking just a bit. He coughed to clear his throat and nodded. “I’ll stay.”

[ragewerthers]

Relaxation Therapy

Summary:  Iwa has gotten himself so caught up in his paper that he feels he doesn't have time to relax. Luckily his boyfriends know just the way to get him to listen to reason. A little relaxation therapy is definitely in order!

A/n: Hello there!

This is written for a prompt sent to me from @lady-namo​!

She asked for:

'matsuhanaiwaoi? iwaizumi is really, REALLY stressed by whatever and they try to relax him. actually i don't mind how exactly you do it, i'd just be happy with teasy af mattsun!'

This was so much fun to write as I've never gotten to write these four before, but they are ridiculous and amazing to write banter between! I hope that you enjoy it, my friend!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28599321

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 3937

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

Iwa growled in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair, staring hard at the readings laid out before him on the kitchen table.

If this civilization wasn’t already lost to history, he would be cursing the ancient Minoans as the texts he looked over spoke of them.  How dare they be so god damn interesting that he decided to write his history paper on their mysterious disappearance?  How dare they lure him into trying to read through dusty old texts that only offered up the same three conclusions each and every time?!  Three conclusions does not a paper make!

With another deep growl he let his head fall to the table with a resounding thud that he immediately regretted more than the Minoans existence.  His pen had been in just the perfect spot for his forehead to land against, sending a nice little shockwave of pain through his forehead and making him reel back in his chair with a shout.  Sadly the force that he’d pushed himself away with was enough to send said chair tilting backwards at lightning speeds and his life flashed before his eyes.

Sadly the only thing his mind supplied was the Minoans.

The bastards.

Squeezing his eyes shut he waited for the cold, hard impact of the floor, but soon just found himself suspended mid-air.

Slowly, almost fearfully, he let his eyes peek open only to be met with the amused and gentle smile of Mattsun.

“Issei?” Iwa said a little dumbly, having thought his boyfriends were still out of the apartment for a grocery run.  When Oikawa was involved this usually meant that the trip could last hours and it felt like they’d only just left a few minutes ago.  Oikawa shouting something sassy from the hall, Hana rolling his eyes and Mattsun promising that they wouldn’t lose Tooru… again.

Now, it seemed, they had all returned just in time to see the Minoans attempting to take him out with his own pen.

“The one and only.  Appears we didn’t get back too late for me to be your knight in shining armor, Hajime,” the taller man said lightly, ducking down to press a careful kiss to the red line already starting to appear over Iwa’s forehead.

“What was that thud we heard when we came in, Iwa?” Hana called, carrying in at least four grocery bags collected on his arms and trying to carefully place them on the table and avoid Iwa’s work.

“Yeah, Iwa-chan!  Mattsun literally jumped the sofa to get in here when he heard you yelp,” Oikawa said with a teasing smirk, putting his own single bag of shopping right on top of Iwa’s work and spreading out his papers even more.

Matsukawa quirked an eyebrow at Oikawa before carefully setting Iwa’s chair back down on the floor.

“This coming from the man who literally elbowed Hana in the face trying to unlock the door when we heard the commotion in the hall.  Don’t act all cool and collected now,” Mattsun teased, watching as Oikawa’s ears tinged red and he puffed his cheeks out into a pout.

“I did no such thing!  I know Iwa-chan is more than capable of handling himself in any situation,” Oikawa huffed, turning around and heading back toward the living room to drop off his coat, scarf and shoes.

“I thought he was going to cry,” Hana whispered to Iwa as he passed by with a few frozen pizza’s in hand, apparently deciding to put away their frozens before taking off his things.  Though he also seemed incapable of dropping a kiss to Iwa’s brow before continuing on and making the man's cheeks warm up more at all of this attention.  Though the thought of Oikawa blubbering in the hallway did make him chuckle a bit.

Soon Iwa felt a strong hand lightly starting to massage the back of his neck and the chuckling instantly quieted down into a soft hum of content.  Closing his eyes, he tilted his head forward reflexively, feeling the way Mattsun’s hand worked its way up to his hairline before soothing gently circles back down toward his shoulder.

“You still didn’t answer the question though, Hajime,” Mattsun said softly as he watched Iwa slowly melt in front of him from the simple contact.  “But if I had to guess, I’d say this paper is putting up a fight?”

Iwa gave a little nod, though he tried to stay as still as possible to enjoy the gentle attention he was receiving.  “The Minoans have decided to haunt me from their graves.  But be careful what you think of them.  They’ll attack you with pens and tipped over chairs,” he grumbled, getting a little snort from Hana who was somewhere near the cupboards now.

“They also seem to be able to turn your muscles into nothing but knots and stone,” Matsukawa murmured softly, bringing his other hand up to start massaging along Hajimes shoulders properly and earning himself a deep groan of pain and contentment.  “Why don’t you take a break?  When the ghosts of dead civilizations start to attack, it’s usually a sign you need to take a step back.”

“Did I hear that right?  Iwa-chan is allowing papers to attack him now?” Oikawa cooed as he came back in, grabbing one of the other grocery bags and the table and carrying it to the counter.  “That’s what turned Issei into a track star?”

“And you into a panicked mother hen?” Hana teased, getting a swat to his arm with a bag of milk bread Oikawa had moments before had cuddled to his chest like a gift from heaven.

Iwa blinked his eyes open to give him a little half-hearted glare.  “No, Shitty-kawa.  I just… got a little stuck in my thesis and it got away from me a bit.  But I’ll still conquer this paper.  I just have to focus more,” he mumbled before giving a little whimper as Mattsun’s fingers kneaded deeper into the muscles of his shoulder.

“Hajime, I can actually feel your muscles coiling up again as you speak,” Mattsun murmured in his calming baritone.  “I think it would do you some good to take a small break with us.  Just a little breather to get your thoughts refocused?” “I can’t,” Iwa said quietly, a little scowl starting to reappear over his features.  “I only have a couple of days to get this all sorted out and I know that if I keep going I’ll be able to break through this little writer's block I have.  I’m sorry, but… maybe later once I get some thoughts on paper I can take a break with you all.”  Leaning forward slightly, Iwa gently broke the wonderful contact of Mattsun’s hands from his shoulders. He could hear a little exhale of air from behind him as he picked his pen back up and knew that wasn’t what the man had wanted to hear, but it’s what he needed to do. Reaching forward he began to try and reorganize his papers from the mess Oikawa had made of them.

“Oh Mattsun-kun.  You should know better than trying to get through to Iwa with gentle words,” Oikawa said as he drew closer to the table.

“Yeah, Mattsun,” Hana teased from his spot by the sink, turning to watch with a little smirk playing over his lips, his arms crossed over his chest.  “You know that Hajime is only just slightly less stubborn than Tooru.”

Iwa grumbled at that, hunching his shoulders to try and ignore his boyfriends talking about him as if he wasn’t there.  ‘ Now where did that pen go? ’

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” Oikawa chuckled and Iwa could hear him moving around the table to stand next to Issei.  “But… if there’s something I’ve learned about our sweet Iwa-chan it’s that there are better ways of getting your point across.”

Sadly, Iwa was now starting to get back into what he hoped was a groove for this paper and didn’t notice the shared look between his three ridiculous partners.

“That’s right,” Mattsun said, his voice still sounding measured even as the hint of amusement tinged his words.

“Gentle words aren’t enough,” Hanamaki agreed, his voice sounding closer and making Iwa hunch more into himself.  God, why didn’t he grab his earbuds to drown out these idiots ?

“That’s right,” Oikawa’s voice purred, making the back of Iwa’s neck prickle slightly.  “Hajime needs to be persuaded out of his bullheadedness…,”

“Pfft… you’re one to talk, Trashy-kawAHAHA!” Iwa startled as he felt two strong hands send a couple quick squeezes against his lower ribs, making him jolt out of his seat and sending some of his books and papers tumbling down to the floor.  Turning around he saw Oikawa’s hands still extended forward, Hana and Mattsun flanking either side of him with twin looks of mischief and determination on their faces.

The world seemed to pause in time for a few heartbeats as Iwa’s eyes looked over the three of them… his mind racing to catch up with what was happening when all of a sudden the moment of stillness was broken with two words.

“Get him.”

Hana and Mattsuns smiles turned devious as each of them took flight.  Taking off from either side of Oikawa to race around the table toward Iwa and looking for all the world like those evil winged hell monkeys the wicked witch of the west had sent off after Dorothy.

Though to be fair, Oikawa’s accompanying menacing cackle would’ve even sent a shiver down that witch’s spine! Iwa instantly turned and ran out of the kitchen and toward the hall, his heart beating thunderously in his chest as he realized what sort of doom awaited him if he were caught.

“Fly my pretties!  Fly!!!” Oikawa cried from a little further down the hall as Iwa heard Mattsun and Hana slowly starting to catch up to him as they neared the living room.

Oh yeah… Oikawa was never allowed to watch the Wizard of Oz again!

“Get the hell away from me!” Iwa called over his shoulder, only hearing a rumbling laugh far closer than he expected.

“Sorry, Hajime… not gonna happen!” Mattsun called back, his fingers just brushing the back of Hajime’s shirt and making Iwa yelp as he raced around one side of the coffee table… only to find the pair once more splitting up to give chase.

“Damn it!” Iwa shouted, though he was surprised to find the barest hint of a smile tugging up at the corners of his lips from this stupidity!  “Kn-Knock it off!  I’m trying to get some work done!  OOF!”

Iwa had glanced behind him for only a second and that was apparently all it took for Oikawa to make his grand entrance, quickly catching Iwa up in his embrace as he attempted to make a break for it toward their bedroom.

“Oh, what have we here?” Oikawa cooed in that far too smug voice, practically bearhugging Iwa to his chest.  “Why... I think it’s someone in desperate need of a study break!”

“I told you!  I don’t neheheed a breahahahak!  AH!  Stahp it!” Iwa instantly bit down on his lower lip as growly giggles already started to bubble up from his chest.  Oikawa’s fingers dug lightly into that spot under his lower ribs making his legs already feel like jelly as his body tried to twist away from the tingly touch. “Was that grumpy and sassy Iwa just now?” Hana teased as he and Mattsun drew closer.

“M’nahahat!” Iwa giggled despite his best efforts, a little yelp escaping as he felt a third hand reaching up to lightly tickle against the side of his neck as another hand began to squeeze near his hip.

“What was that, Iwa-chan?  Did you just say you weren’t being grumpy?  Because I’m positive I heard you trying to defy me and not take a break,” Oikawa murmured back dangerously as Iwa tried to weakly swat at the hands seeming to come at him from all angles.

“Stahahahap it!  I… I hahahave to gehehet back!” Iwa gasped out between giggles, soon finding himself being lifted off the ground as another pair of arms wrapped around him.

“Oh no.  I think you are in desperate need of a bit of relaxation therapy,” Mattsun said softly, seeming to be the one doing most of the lifting now before Iwa found himself unceremoniously dropped onto their sofa.

Before he could sit up he found Oikawa already straddling his thighs, Mattsun pinning his wrists overhead and Hana settled on his calves.

“And if I remember correctly, a little bit of laughter can go a long way in helping someone relax,” Mattsun teased.  The look in his eyes instantly making Iwa try to wriggle his hands free from the former blockers grasp.

“No!  R-Really!  You guys don’t have to do thi-HIHIhihihis!  Hahahana nohohoho!“ Iwa gasped out as he felt the light scribbling of fingers against his arches, his legs trying to weakly kick out, but with Oikawa and Hana both settled on his lower half he knew he wasn’t going anywhere soon. Oikawa turned to catch a glimpse of Hana’s focused attention on Iwa’s poor feet, chuckling at the reaction it was already causing.  Turning around he caught Issei’s eyes and gave him a devilish smile as he listened to Iwa’s giggles already bubbling up so sweetly. “Well, Mattsun-kun… we can’t let Hana have all the fun.  We need to be here to help our sweet, Iwa-chan too!” he teased, his fingers sneaking under Hajime’s shirt to start lightly fluttering along the sides of his tum, just barely scribbling as they moved lower and lower toward his hips.

“NO!  NO nahahahat my hihihips, Tooruhuhuhu!” Iwa squeaked out, his body already starting to shimmy side to side in the hope to block some of what was to come. “Oh, Hajime,” Mattsun crooned in his deep voice.  “I think you have so much more to be worried about then just your hips.” Iwa only had a moment to try to register what Mattsun was saying before he felt the man's fingers settling on one particular rib on his left side.  His eyes instantly widened and he began to squirm more as he knew what was coming. “WaitwaitwaitwaAHAHAHAGAHAHAD!  NOAHAHAHA!” Iwa instantly cried out as Mattsun began massaging and vibrating his fingers deeply against that particular rib.  Years ago he had cracked it during a match and a bad collison and somehow upon healing it had managed to become far too sensitive to even the lightest touches.  He regretted ever letting these bastards find out about this particular weakness!

“I think Iwa is really enjoying his study break!  Look at how big he’s smiling!” Mattsun called over Hajime’s laughter, bringing his hand up to flutter against one of his exposed armpits and making the poor man try to tug his arms free once more.

“Look at that sweet blush!  Oh Iwa-chan I wish I had my phone to capture this!” Oikawa crooned softly, his hands moving to settle into the little dips of Hajimes hips, his thumbs starting to rub deep, quick circles right against the hyper ticklish spot and nearly sending himself and Hana flying off the sofa with the way Iwa jolted.

“NO PLEHEHEHEASE!  I CAHAN’T!  I CAHAHAN’T!” Iwa cackled wildly as Oikawa’s thumbs found a rhythm that had him bouncing what little he could on the sofa.  His head was tossed back against one of the throw pillows and his entire body felt like one giant sensitive spot. Hana snickered from where he was lightly tracing his fingers over Iwa’s socked arches, making the man's toes curl and his feet twitch from the light contact.  “Can’t what?  Escape?  We know that already, silly Iwa,” Hana teased, finding a nice little spot right in the center of his partners arches that seemed to make the poor guy shriek. “Oh!  I think I definitely have the best spot!”

Tooru huffed from his spot on Hajime, looking down at the mans face already turning pink from laughter.  His own hands had paused as the light tickles to his feet from Hanamaki seemed to be driving him into hysterical giggles.

“That’s not fair, Hajime!  How come you let Hana have your best spot?  You always told me it was your hips!  Were you lying to me, Iwa-chan?” he asked with mock suspicion, narrowing his eyes and fighting a smile as his hands gave Iwa’s hips a few warning squeezes.

“NO!  NO Tooruhuhu!  I… I didn’t lie! I dihihihihidn’t!  AHahahagahahad!” Iwa cackled, turning his head into his outstretched arm to try and hide a snort that escaped him when the squeezes turned into scribbling fingers that raced up his sides before quick and nimble fingers began to vibrate over his tum.

“Hmmm… I don’t know.  Sounds like this is also a good spot!  Have you been hiding them on me?!” Oikawa gasped dramatically, though this time he didn’t bother hiding the soft smile he had on his face as Iwa laughed so brightly and openly.

Mattsun had paused his own tickling as well as he watched Iwa losing himself to his laughter from the other two.  His goal had been to make Iwa relax and really this was already having the desired effect.  Iwa’s brow was no longer furrowed in grumpiness, his expression soft and bright with laughter pouring out of him.

However, this didn’t mean that he didn’t still want to truly drive home how much Iwa deserved this and how much he needed to listen to his boyfriends every once in a while.

“Oh, Hajime.  I think you were keeping secrets from us,” Mattsun teased as he lightly fluttered his fingers against his right armpit and then his left, making Iwa jump with each soft attack, his giggles always intensifying when he did it.

“Nehehehever!  I w-wouldn’t!  I prohohomihihihihise!” Iwa squeaked out, his laughter already starting to become quieter as he neared his limit.  Unlike Tooru, who seemed to gain energy during their tickle attacks on him, Iwa always seemed to have one big burst of energy before becoming absolutely compliant in their arms.

Mattsun chuckled at that and shook his head.  “Hmm… I don’t know… you’re getting pretty jumpy with these tickles here.  I think the best way to make sure you aren’t hiding any more secrets from your boyfriends is to attack all these good spots at once.  What do you guys think?” he asked, watching as Oikawa and Hana both perked up with bright smiles, their resounding ‘YES!’s’ easily covering up Iwa’s frantically giggled ‘NO!’

“I think the majority wins!  Ready, Hajime?” Mattsun murmured fondly, though judging from the way the man was already giggling so hard his cheeks were turning pink he knew he wasn’t about to get a proper answer.  “Then here we go, on the count of three!  One!” he counted, fingers wiggling just above Iwa’s torso and making him shiver.

“Two!” Hana called, letting both of his index fingers zip up Iwa’s soles in warning of what was to come, a startled squeal and wriggle the only answer from Hajime.

Oikawa glanced down at his Iwa, watching as the man peeked his eyes out from where he had been trying to hide against his arm, his smile bright, carefree, but still with that little bit of challenge behind them.

Oikawa’s smile grew at that in return.  Never one to take a challenge lightly.

“Three!” he cried, and instantly, all of their hands were on the attack… and Iwa lost his mind.

Hanamaki’s fingers scribbled and traced all of his soles, moving from his arches to under his toes and drawing out the ugliest snorts Iwa had ever heard himself make. Tooru’s fingers exacted lethal attacks against his stomach, sides and hips.  His fingers would massage and vibrate against the bones of his hips before moving up to massage deep circles against his lower ribs and then moving to scuttle around and vibrate against his sides and tum making him bounce and jump at the deeply ticklish touches.

And finally there was Mattsun, the instigator to all of this if Iwa had to name someone.  He’d abandoned his hold on his wrists to use both hands to attack his upper ribs and armpits with fluttering fingers and scribbles that had made Iwa shriek before dissolving into wild and carefree laughter.

His arms had instantly clamped down on Mattsun’s hands and he tried for all his worth to try and wiggle away or curl into the sofa, but there was no escaping three evil boyfriends hellbent on teasing him into relaxation and oblivion all in one.

“NOHOHOAHAHAHA!  PLEHEHEHEASE I… I CAHAHAHAN’T!  IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHAD!” Iwa cried out through his hysterical laughter, his mind completely taken over by nothing but ticklish sensations and absolutely nothing left to remind him of his earlier troubles, the Minoans, the paper… nothing but how terribly his boyfriends were wrecking and how much it tickled! “Do you think Iwa’s had enough?” Mattsun chuckled, already starting to slow his tickles as Oikawa and Hana both smiled softly at Iwa.  Even their fingers started to turn from terrible tickles to lightly soothing over those spots.

“I think Iwa has learned his lesson,” Oikawa cooed softly, his hands soothing against his boyfriends sides as Iwa slowly regained back some sanity, giggling and panting even as he felt the tickles starting to subside.

“L-Lehehesson?” he giggled, voice a little hoarse from his laughter as Mattsun nodded. “Yes.  To listen to your boyfriends.  To take a break.  To enjoy some relaxation therapy.  To not take your papers so seriously they almost hurt you,” Mattsun listed off, carefully removing his hands from under Iwa’s arms and making him shiver before starting to sooth his fingers through his messy hair.  “This is really all we wanted to achieve, Hajime.  For you to have a moment to just let loose and step away from those things that were stressing you.  Apparently we can only get that across that stubborn brain of yours with some well placed tickles.” Iwa felt his cheeks flushing a bit, giving a little hum and closing his eyes as his breathing started to calm more and more as he felt the gentle touches now moving over him.

“I’m… sorry I didn’t listen sooner,” he chuckled, melting a little more as Oikawa began to lightly massage down his arms and Hana moved, lifting Iwa’s legs so that he could sneak to sit on the sofa, letting them rest in his lap so he could soothe along his feet, ankles and calves as well.  

“No need to apologize, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmured softly, ducking down to press a few soft kisses against his boyfriends pink cheeks before carefully moving off of him, sitting beside the sofa as he watched Iwa starting to relax more and more.  “Besides… we achieved what we wanted.  You’re relaxing and taking a breather now, right?  So we’re really all winners here.”

Iwa gave a gentle, tired chuckle at that, his eyes already closing as he was pampered so lovingly by them all.

“Re… Remind me… to do this… more often,” Iwa murmured, his voice already growing softer as sleep carefully called to him after his intense tickle attack.

“I think we can do that,” Mattsun murmured fondly, giving Iwa a soft tickle behind his ear, making the man giggle softly before his breathing evened out and soft snores could soon be heard.

If this was the end result of their efforts to get Iwa to relax, they would definitely have no problem reminding him time and time again.

[queenrose730]

Reckless

Part Twelve 

Master List

“You’re here doll.” Bucky reached out and grabbed your hand. You looked between his face and your hands. Suddenly the words he said to you before cause your anger boiled over. You yanked your hand out of his.

“Yep. Steve wanted me to be here when you woke up. So here I am.” You pressed the button to the Shuri know Bucky was awake, then turned toward the door.

“Yn please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” He was trying to get out of bed but was getting tangled in the cords.

“That’s fine.” You turned back to him once you reached the door. Shuri had just come in the room. “Steve said he wished he could be here. He hopes to stop through soon.” Before Bucky could say anything else you were out the door. Walking quickly to the elevator and back to your apartment.

The streets outside were busy as you rushed home. People going about their day unaware of the battle going on in your head. Part of you wanted nothing more than to crawl in that bed with him and just lay there. The other part wants to punch him right in the face. It felt like the last three months hadn’t even happened. Just as you reached your door, the kimoyo beads on your wrist chirped.

“Well that was dramatic.” She didn’t even give you a chance to say hello.

“Shuri. Please don’t.” You flopped down on the couch.

“You weren’t the one trying to keep a super solider from tearing out every lead and chasing after you.”

“I’m sorry.” He tried to chase after you? Shit.

“You can make it up to me tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Nakia is coming home and we haven’t been to a club in a while.”

“Shuri, it’s been like one week.”

“And that’s too long! We will be at your place about 8. Wear something hot!” She gave you a wink and hung up. Maybe going out was just what you needed. Keep yourself distracted.  

You sent a text off to Steve that Bucky was awake and everything went smoothly. You then switched your phone off and set it at your desk. Spending the rest of the day puttering around your apartment cleaning and reorganizing things.

Finally, it was time to get ready for the club. You choose a deep red satin dress. It was strapless and came to rest just above your knees. It also had a slit up the right side to your hip. This dress was probably the most daring one you had bought. One that Natasha was proud of when you sent her a picture of you in it for the first time. You kept your makeup light. Doing your brows, mascara and a clear gloss. Your favorite necklace to wear with it was a black snake choker. Nat said it made you look sexy and scary at the same time. That is exactly what you wanted to feel tonight. Your hair was in a loose bun at the nape of your neck and you let pieces fall around your face. You were getting your shoes from the hall closest when there was a knock at your door.

“Come on in!” You shouted at the door from the hall.

“Yn?” You froze. What the hell was Bucky doing here? You shut the hall closest and walked to the living room.

“What are you doing here Bucky?” You didn’t even look at him as you walked through the room to the kitchen. Tossing your shoes down, you grabbed one of the liquor bottle from the counter.

“I was told to pick you up.” You looked up at him. He was dressed all in black. His dress shirt was unbuttoned just enough to tease his body underneath it. His left sleeve was tucked in on itself.

“What do you mean pick me up?” You forced yourself to keep your eye on his but you noticed his wondering.

“Shuri invited me out with you guys.” His eyes were still everywhere but where they should be.

“Wonderful.” You poured yourself a shot and then another. All the while Bucky was just staring at you and you let him. Thanking yourself for choosing the outfit you did. Your kimoyo beads chirped.

“Shuri mind telling me why Bucky is in my apartment.” She gave you a big smile.

“I thought it would be good for him. Now get over here!” She hung up.

“Well let’s go then.” Bucky held his arm out for you to take but you just brushed past him out the door.

“Well ok then.” You heard him mumble behind you. You were not about to let some 100-year-old super solider dampen your night.

  One of the perks of being friends with the princess is that you never had to wait in the lines at clubs. The music greeted you as you walked through the door. Bucky’s hand came to rest on your lower back protectively. You groaned to yourself as you scanned the room quickly. Finding Shuri and Nakia at the bar. You danced your way to them trying to stay just far enough from Bucky so he couldn’t touch you. Once at the bar you chose to wedge yourself between Shuri and a man, not allowing any room for Bucky who reluctantly took a place one the other side of Nakia.

“Yn!” She shouted and came around Shuri to give you a big hug. “You look sexy as always girl!”

“You look great to Nakia. How was the mission?” The bar tender had made her way over to you. You ordered a round of shots for the group.

“You know no work talk on girls’ night!”

“Well it’s not really girls’ night is it?” You raised your eye brows and looked at Shuri.

“You’re right.” Nakia turned to also look at Shuri.

“Oh come on!” She raised her hands and took the shot placed in front of her. The two of you followed.

After a few more drinks the three of you made your way to the dance floor. Bucky thankfully stayed at the bar but you could feel his eyes on you all night.  

“He really does stare a lot.” Nakia whispered to you under the loud music.

“You have no idea.”

“It probably doesn’t help you wore THAT outfit.” She gestured at your dress.

“Well I had no idea until he just showed up at my house.” Just then a man grabbed your waist and spun you to him.

“Hello.” He gave you a flirty smirk.

“Hello.” You returned it and danced against him. You ignored Nakia’s protest that you were dancing with her. Instead you just focused on his hands. They found their way across your body in an intoxicating way. The liquor that flowed though you gave you the courage to dance even closer.

“You look stunning in that dress.” He whispered in your ear. His voice sent goosebumps racing down your body.

“Thank-” A strong hand on your upper arm cut you off. You looked at your arm only to be jerked away from the man you had been dancing with.

“What the hell Bucky.” You tried your best to shake his grip.

“It’s time to go.” He spoke low and was staring now at the man. He opened his mouth to say something but just shook his head and walked away.

“Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere.” You tried and failed again to break free. This time though you lost your balance a bit thanks to the alcohol. Bucky just held on tighter. You looked around for Shuri and Nakia, they were both standing at the door. The lights in the club had started to filter on.

“I said it’s time to go.” He nearly growled it out between his clenched teeth. He started to pull you toward the door.

“Let me go you fucking ass.” You struggled the whole way to the door. Trying everything short of starting a full fight with him. He didn’t let you go until everyone was outside.

“What the hell was that?!” Bucky shouted at you.

“I could ask you the same fucking this ass hole!” You shouted back. “I was dancing and having fun.” You bent down and started taking off your shoes to make it easier to walk home. “You’re the one that got all possessive.”

“Is that what you call what you were doing?” Bucky was still seething with anger but help to keep you steady while you worked at your shoes. “And I was not being possessive.”

“Dancing isn’t like it was in the 40s buck. Get over it.” You walked back over to the girls. “Thanks for a great night ladies see you.”

“Yn are you ok?”

“I’ll be fine Shuri. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As much as you wanted to be mad at her you couldn’t. You knew she meant well inviting Bucky out. You gave her and Nakia a hug then headed off to your apartment. Bucky was following close behind you.

“Bucky what are you doing?”

“I’m making sure you get home safe.” You stopped but didn’t turn around. You hung your head and sighed.

“Whatever.” You started walking again. “But that’s kind of possessive.”

“It is not. Now come on.” He caught up to you pace and placed his hand back on your lower back.

A few minutes later you both stood at the door to your apartment. Bucky insisted on walking you all the way to your door not just the door of the building.

“Home safe.” You said as you turned you key and the door opened. Bucky gently grabbed your arm and turned you to face him. You gave a slight wince as he grabbed the same spot he had a death grip on not too long ago. When he saw that he dropped his hand and head.

“I’m sorry about that Yn. I’m sorry about a lot.”

“I’ll forget it if you spar with me. I owe you a few punches.”

“Deal.” He lifted his head and smiled at you. It was genuine. It showed in his eyes too. They were brighter than you had ever seen before. Shit. That was the alcohol.

“Right. Good night Bucky.”

“Good night doll.”

Before you could think his hand was on your face and he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was simple but it was probably the most Intimate moment you had with a man in almost a year. It damn near made you knees buckle. If Bucky noticed he didn’t let on, just give you another smile and watched as you went into your apartment.

 Once in your apartment, you made your way back to the bedroom. Struggling with the zipper on you dress as you went. Finally getting it of you changed into you pj’s and head to your desk. Even though you were fairly drunk you had a nightly routine of checking all your sources for Steve. Before sitting down you grabbed a glass of water and took some meds for the headache you knew would be coming in soon. You mind wasn’t quite focused on the screen in front of you. Your computer was running a facial recognition program. Instead you were thinking about what happened at the club.

Part of you knew exactly why you did what you did. You made Bucky jealous. But why did you want to make him jealous? Sure you liked to dance with men at the club but you never got that bold with how you danced. Mindlessly you rub the spot on your arm where Bucky grabbed you. It was still tender. For sure there would be bruises there by morning. In the back of your mind that excited you a bit. Bucky marked you.

What the FUCK Yn. You propped you elbows up on your desk and rested your head in your hands. Your computer chimed letting you know that the program was done running. Trying to pull your mind from Bucky, you clicked though any possible hits. There was only one that was even close. It was of Wanda. She was spotted in Finland. You decided to check you phone. Only to realize that you had turned it off earlier in the day. Once it was on, there was a title wave of notifications. A few calls from Steve, even more text messages, even some calls from Nat and Sam. You didn’t bother to read all the messages and called Steve back.

“Yn, where the hell have you been?”

“Well hi to you too Steve.”

“Sorry. We have just been trying to reach you all day. I was getting worried.”

“I mean same Steve. But I’m ok. Just had my phone off and got busy. Shuri took us out to the club.”

“Ok. Well how is Bucky doing? Did he do ok coming out of cryo?”

“Bucky is fine. Shuri drug him out to the club with us. So that was fun.” You tried to make your tone light. You really didn’t want to tell Steve everything that happened tonight.

“Bucky went to a club?” You could hear Sam say something and Steve laughed.

“Yea. It was interesting to say the least. But he came out of cryo just fine.”

“Good. Any other updates?”

“Not really. I haven’t really talked to Shuri about what’s next. All I know is that whenever he is ready they will get the rest of that old metal arm removed. Shuri has a whole plan for a new arm if he wants it.”

“That’s awesome. I’m glad.”

“Yea.” You couldn’t help but let you voice slip.

“What else Yn?” Steve always knew when something was wrong.

“Uh, I got a new tac suit ready to go. It’s got all kinds of goodies. So whenever you need me I am more than ready.”

“Sweetheart, I know you want to be out here, but please just stay there.”

“Right.” Both of you paused in conversation.

“Oh, also, you might want to let Wanda know to be a little more careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I run a facial recognition program every now and then. She popped up tonight. It may not be her but it was a pretty high match.”

“Where was it?” He sounded concerned.

“Central Finland. Is that where you guys are at now?”

“Yea it is. I’ll let her know. Thanks Yn.”

“Anytime Steve. Also if you need anything tech wise you can still use me. I’ve been helping Nakia.”

“I know. We are just kind of laying low right now.” You heard more voices over the phone. “I got to go Yn.”

“Alright. Tell everyone I said hi and that I miss them.”

“I will sweetheart. Stay out of trouble.”

“Always.”

Tags- @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[wowweeharrystyles]

Part 1 | Kindness & The Perfect Fit | 9.2k words

‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

A/N: So here’s part 1 of Sequins & Zippers. A MASSIVE shoutout to @niallhoranapologist​. If it weren’t for Gwen I probably wouldn’t have continued to work on this story. Thanks for always helping me brainstorm ideas, listen to me talk about these fictional characters all the time & for continuously supporting my writing. you da best. 

“Ugg, this is useless,” Aurora groans as she throws the t shirt she had in hand across the room. Aurora has been attempting to pack her suitcase for hours now. “How the hell am I supposed to pack 4 months worth of clothes in a single suitcase?” she whispers in defeat to herself.

“Rory? Everything alright?” Aurora’s mother calls from the other room. Rory is the nickname her mom gave her when she was only a baby. Her mother walks into her room and sees the frustrated look on her daughter’s face. 

“25 countries? The weather is gonna be different in every freaking country,” Rory lets out a frustrated sigh, falling onto her bed. “I can barely pack properly for a weekend trip.” 

“Hey, you’re thinking too hard and overwhelming yourself,” her mother says softly as she sits on the bed next to her. She places a hand on her shoulder, “Let me help. We’ll figure it out.” 

Aurora is currently trying to pack for her new job. After the craziest year she’s ever had, packed with graduating college, moving to London to work with one of the most well-known stylists in the fashion industry and having the time of her life doing what she loves most, she was offered a career-altering job for the next 4 months. Never did Aurora think she would be sitting in her room back home in a small suburb of New York surrounded by cardboard boxes labeled with things like: “NYC Apartment - kitchen,” “London - winter clothes,” “School things,” “London Flat - bedding,” “I have no idea, from london.” Organized Chaos explained her life best right now. 

“Rory, sweetie, where’s your list?” her mother asks, looking around to locate the papers she’s been carrying around for the past week that’s covered in scribbled notes, lists upon lists and small sketches here and there. “Should’ve really been keeping that stuff in a journal or something.” She finds the papers scattered on Aurora’s desk and a few laid on top of boxes. “Probably wouldn’t be so overwhelmed if you could be a little bit more organized,” her mother sighs gathering the papers into a stack, tapping the bottom edges on the desk to line them up. “You’re normally so much more organized,” her mother continues before pressing a kiss to Aurora’s hair. 

“It’s a lot, Mom. I don’t know where to start.” She stands up from her bed and grabs her phone as it dings, indicating she’s received an email. “Finally!” she exclaims with a sigh of relief. “Harry’s just sent me my official itinerary and all of my flight info.”

“Harry Styles himself emailed you your travel plans?” her mother asks in disbelief. 

“No, mom, Lambert. Harry Lambert, my boss.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” she laughs lightly, “How many mix ups has there been with that name?” 

Aurora’s new job is ‘Head of Wardrobe’ for Harry Styles’ Arena World Tour. In all honesty, she has no idea how she got here. Well she does, but it still doesn’t feel real. Lambert’s original hire for the tour ended up needing to stay in London to help him with his styling work there and she was next in line, but she still isn’t too sure how she got this lucky. The past year happened so fast and it was one opportunity after another that landed her here. She’s barely had a moment to breathe after the holidays and some small jobs here and there to keep her busy. Last January, just over a year ago, Aurora traveled to London for a six week menswear design course at Central Saint Martins for some extra credits before her final semester of college. During this course, she was lucky enough to met Harry Lambert. After he saw her collection of work from the past few years, what her thesis plans were and what she had been working on during the CSM course he kept her information on file for the future. When Aurora left london at the end of the course she had no idea if she would ever hear from Harry Lambert again, but around mid march she received an email from him about an internship position he needed to fill and thought she would be perfect for. Starting the internship in NYC before she even graduated, May was a whirlwind and was the perfect indication on how the rest of her year would be. She moved to London in June and was put to work without a second to spare. 

“Okay, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” Aurora’s mother starts before launching into a detailed plan on how they’re both gonna tackle packing up Aurora’s life for the next 4 months on the road, traveling. They’ve got barely 3 days until her flight leaves for London.

Nearly 4 hours later and they’ve organized Aurora’s room. Unpacking the appropriate boxes, written a new packing list, and they’ve also written a shopping list. They’ve got organized piles surrounding them. Again, Organized Chaos best describes Aurora’s life, always. 

“Oh, what about that long pleated skirt you made last year? The emerald green one? You definitely need to take that.” Aurora’s eyes lit up at the idea. She loved that skirt, it was versatile enough that she could pair with heels or sneakers. Versatile pieces were key to packing she found out quickly. Her mom reaches into her closet and searches for it. “Probably at the back, haven’t worn it in awhile,” she motions towards her closet while sorting through the box of her bags, making decisions on which ones she’ll need with her. 

“Oh gosh, Rory, look what I found,” her mom emerges from the closet with a handful of rolled up posters. 

Aurora goes bright red knowing exactly what is on those posters. “Oh no. I kept those?” her mom sets them down on the floor but keeps one to unroll. Once the tape is off and her mom has got it flat, she turns it around to face Aurora. It’s a large poster of One Direction from a TigerBeat magazine. Aurora drops her face into her hands. 

“Remember when you couldn’t see a bit of the wall cause of these posters? If I remember right, you liked that blonde one yeah?” her mom laughs, rolling the poster back up. “Maybe you should take one with you and have Harry sign it? He’d get a kick out of it, I’m sure.” 

“Mom!” Aurora whines. “This is my job, my career. I have to be nothing but professional.” 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a joke or two. Gotta have fun still and honestly, he’d probably think it’s cute.” 

“Mom, it’s embarrassing and I’m gonna be working with him and his team for the next 4 months.” Her mother can see the panic on her face. “I cannot just show up with a One Direction poster.” 

“Ror, I’m just having a bit of fun with you. You need to relax or you’ll just be frustrated and stressed the entire time.” She sets the posters aside and goes to join Aurora on the floor. Placing a hand on her cheek, “Baby girl, my baby girl, promise me you’ll have some fun? This is a chance of a lifetime and I know you’ll work your butt off and do your job perfectly, but you need to enjoy it too. Okay?” Aurora nods slowly. She knows her mother is right, she always is. 

“Okay,” she says softly giving her mom a weary smile. 

“You’ll be okay, I know you will,” her mom says before leaning in and hugging her daughter. “I’m so proud of you.”

Aurora and her mother continue bustling around her room until the sun sets. By the time there is no daylight left there are 2 large suitcases completely full, all organized and packed with Aurora’s belongings. They spend the next hour packing up Aurora’s rolling caboodle. The large, rollable, sturdy set of drawers and compartments is from Aurora’s days as a competition dancer. It used to carry her stage makeup, extra pairs of tights, accessories and an emergency sewing kit. It was always covered in glitter and there were bobby pins in every nook and cranny, a few stray sets of false eyelashes too. But for the past 4 years, she’s used it for all things sewing and design. She never went to class or the design studio without it. Aurora and her mom empty the drawers and reorganize the contents. They make another list of things they need to pick up at the local sewing store the next day. Aurora pulls out her old sketchbooks and sets them to the side and adds a new clean book to the now empty drawer along with her cases of Micron pens, drawing pencils and prisma coloured pencils. 

Aurora continues to organize each little compartment as her mother prints out small labels and adds them to the section dividers. Aurora loves to be overly organized and have everything in its place. It keeps her calm and stops her from getting overwhelmed in stressful situations. There’s nothing she hates more than being backstage at a fashion show and needing a simple needle and thread to fix a small seam quickly and having to dig through the drawers to find what she needs. Backstage life, anywhere, fashion shows, dance competitions, or even a world tour, can be stressful if you’re not prepared properly. 

“Oh, keep the box of sequins and swarovski crystals in there. I actually might need them.” Aurora finishes the sentence with a giggle as she’s setting her scissors in their respective home. 

“Really?” her mom laughs too. 

“Yeah, some of the looks for this tour are actually pretty sparkly. You never would’ve thought. I actually might have to bedazzle a few things on the road.” 

“You’re home!” her mother sing-songs. They both laugh again thinking about the countless hours they spent bedazzling dance costumes with 100’s of crystals. 

After saying goodbye to her parents through a continuous flow of tears, Aurora got on an 8 hour flight. She kept herself busy on the flight to occupy her mind and stop her from overthinking or panicking about the next 4 months ahead of her. She landed in London on the 3rd of March, just a few days till she’d be back at this exact airport with the same luggage plus a few crates labeled ‘Wardrobe’ that she’d also have to care for. She made her way to the Air B’N’B that had been set up for her for the next few days and headed straight to bed. One thing Aurora, jokingly, prides herself on is the ability to sleep anywhere at anytime. 

When the morning rolls around and her alarm wakes her, she’s preparing herself a cup of coffee when her phone rings. She notices Lambert’s ID on the screen. She answers and they exchange good mornings before he asks her about her travels from the day before. 

“Okay, so, I’m sending a car to where you’re staying in about an hour to bring you to the arena.”

“Arena? I thought we were meeting at your studio?” 

“Oh no, change of plans, sorry should have mentioned that in an email. Harry is in full rehearsal mode and everything for the tour is at the mock stage space at Wembley Arena. They’ve just finished the final tech rehearsals and Harry will be there today to start running the show,” Lambert continues. The new knowledge of Harry Styles being there on her first day makes Aurora jittery, small butterflies erupting in her stomach. She’s met Harry before. They’re friendly, but she was only just Lambert’s shadow anytime they were together. He was sweet and kind, just as everyone always says, but she was still a tad nervous. She will be with him almost everyday, on her own, without Lambert there to be a buffer. Aurora tended to be a nervous person, especially if she doesn’t know someone all that well. She can keep her nerves at bay and save a proper panic for after the situation ends most times, which is the best she can do right now. It’s something she’s working on. It’s what she hates most about herself, not being able to keep her nerves in check. 

“Oh yeah, makes sense,” Aurora responds, surprisingly with no jitters evident in her voice. 

“Great, I can have the run of show lookbook all put together for you when you arrive and we’ll go through it and make notes.” “Do you mind if I actually set it up when I get there? I would feel much better and more settled doing it myself as we do a walkthrough of the wardrobe.” 

“Of course, Aurora, whatever you think will work best for you.” 

She thanks him and they end the phone call after confirming the time and car that will be picking her up. She finishes off her coffee and heads to the living room where she left her suitcases last night. One of the large suitcases was lying on the ground, opened, exactly where Aurora left it last night. She ruffles through the contents of her suitcase, moving around different packing cubes until she finds the cube that contains her favourite black jeans. She locates a creme hooded knit sweater and some clean undergarments. She pops into the shower and continues to bustle around the small flat getting ready. At some point she turns on some music to distract her mind. There’s an airy feeling in the flat, the sun shining in london for a change and it calms Aurora down despite the nerves running through her veins. Aurora checks her watch, 10 minutes until her car is due to pick her up. She slides on her all white leather court sneakers and laces them up, tucking in the excess laces for a clean finish. She grabs her black bomber jacket and slips her arms in, then pulls out the hood from her sweater so it lays comfortably on the outside of the jacket’s collar. She takes a quick look in the full body mirror that leans up against the white brick wall across from the large, unmade bed. She’s reminded by the reflection in her mirror to text her mother and thank her for convincing her to pack her favourite clothes instead of all her fancy stuff. She looks put together but is still extremely comfortable, prepared for anything today has to offer her. 

There’s a short honk from the street in front of the building. Aurora grabs her rolling caboodle and her purse before rushing out the door to meet the driver. 

20 minutes later she finds herself stepping out of the car and thanking the driver for holding the door. He grabs her caboodle from the trunk and hands it to Aurora and wishing her well and to have a nice day. Harry Lambert greets her at the door giving her a big hug and exclaiming about how excited he is to have her there. He takes her an office where the tour manager, Michael is set up. The office is busy with several people working at desks on laptops and people taking phone calls. Lambert introduces Aurora to the team and gets her set up with her tour pass and all the nitty gritty stuff. Within half an hour she’s all set for tour and has her new lanyard tied to her on a belt loop. They walk through the never ending halls plastered with signs that state “Treat People With Kindness” and Aurora smiles everytime she sees another. Lambert points out different places, important notes posted on bulletin boards and casually introduces her to people as they quickly pass. 

Everyone seems to be on a mission, darting in and out of rooms and talking on headsets. It’s a busy atmosphere but nobody seems stressed or upset. Aurora appreciates the hustle that everyone seems to have. There’s smiles and high fives passed between crew members and coffees getting pass along. Lambert points out where Harry’ band’s dressing room is and then Harry’s as well. Harry’s reads “Hershel” on the sign that sticks out from the wall. 

“Hershel?” Lambert chuckles when he sees the confused look on her face. 

“Yeah, Jeff, his manager, you’ve met him, calls him Hershel 95% of the time.” She nods along with a smile. After making their way through a few more halls they reach a larger dressing room. “Okay, so here’s our space for the week.” Aurora rolls her caboodle and sets it against the wall near the door for now and sets her purse down on an empty space on the counter that lines one of the shorter walls. On the wall directly across from the doorway there are 3 large black cases that stand about 6 feet tall, opened and filled with garment bags. 

“Is everything here already?” Aurora makes her way towards the case farthest left. 

“Hopefully!” Lambert picks up a large binder that’s sitting on the table across from a small leather couch. “That’s where we’re starting. Checking through each night’s look and making sure it’s all here.” She takes the binder that Lambert has handed her and opens it up to the first page.” 

“Oh wow. I almost forgot how beautiful these suits are.” Towards the end of her internship in London, Lambert let her help him pick some options for the tour. She thumbs through the book quickly to get a glimpse of the beautiful designer suits. She notices quite a few of her favourites made the cut. The 2 of them sit down and devise a plan to best get through this large task of double checking the 60 looks in front of them. They’re about ¾ the way through around 1pm when they mutually decide to take a break and grab some lunch before they power through the rest of the wardrobe. After meeting more members of the crew and grabbing another cup of coffee, Lambert and Aurora make their way back to their dressing room. 

“Hey, let’s go take a look at the stage,” Lambert said as he made a sharp turn in the opposite direction of the room they’ve been working in. “I haven’t seen the final setup yet.” 

“Oh, I’d love that!” Aurora’s face lights up at the idea. They enter from the back of the stage. The stage itself is fully constructed but the light trees are currently hanging low to the ground and crew members are working carefully to change the direction, colour or size of each bulb. Lambert excuses himself as he takes a call, telling Aurora he’ll meet her back in the dressing room in 15 minutes. Aurora continues the theme from today and introduces herself to the stage crew. “Mind if I check out the stage?” she asks Jack, one of the crew members who introduced himself as the Stage Manager. 

“Go ahead, just keep an eye out, we haven’t cleaned up much.” She nods and smiles while walking up the metal steps at the side of the stage. She takes careful steps as she steps to center stage. She looks out into the empty arena. The lights are low and the noise from the powertools is echoing through the arena. 

Though there isn’t any music, the stage lights aren’t shining, and she isn’t in one of her rhinestoned costumes, she still feels at home standing center stage. The nerves she’s been holding on to all morning wash away as she takes a deep breath. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment and she remembers the last time she performed on a stage like this one. It was her senior year of high school at nationals in New York City. It was her farewell to her dance career. A smile starts to grow on her face, the nerves from this morning, the the whole trip to get here, completely washed away now. 

“Oi!” a voice booms through the air, making Aurora jump and she searches for where it came from. She turns around, her hair following her as she turns. Her hair continues to follow her movement, falling in front of her face a bit but she can still make out the face the voice comes from. “What’re you doing on my stage?” She’s met with a smiley, broad shouldered Harry Styles. He’s got his hands in the pockets of the tartan trousers he’s wearing. The strong feeling of embarrassment brings heat to her cheeks as she looks down at the black and white vans he’s sporting. 

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, I-,” she starts rambling apologies. She watches his vans take a few steps closer to her. Aurora’s fumbling with her hands, a nervous tick of hers. “-I was told, told, I could, could, check out the stage,” she’s stuttering over her words and pointing in the direction of Jack. She finally stops talking when she meets Harry’s eyes. He’s still beaming and her stomach drops at the fact that he’s enjoying this situation. His confidence paints an incredible stark difference from her mumbling nervousness. Her brain is a bit fuzzy right now but that doesn’t stop her from noticing the way his eyes sparkle. 

“I’m only joking, love” he says as he pulls his hands out of his pockets with a chuckle. “The stage suits you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Aurora offers again. “I’m-” She’s reaching her hand out when he cuts off her introduction.

“Love, we’ve met. How could I forget you, Aurora.” She’s startled a bit when her name comes out of his mouth. “Ya fixed the hole in my pink jacket, remember?” He’s stepping closer to her and before she’s able to process what’s happening he’s wrapped his arms around her torso, his tattooed arm rubbing her back briefly before pulling away. 

A small laugh leaves her mouth, “I remember, didn’t think you would is all.” Her voice is soft and trails off towards the end of her sentence. 

“Not got much a reputation then if I’ve got people that work with me thinking I’ll forget them.” He lets out a soft chuckle and his smile elicits a dimple on his cheek. 

“No, no, you’ve got a much better reputation than that, promise. You must meet a lot of people day to day is all.” Aurora is calming down, now, realizing that there is no reason for her to be so nervous around him. She’s interacted with him before, this shouldn’t be so jarring to her. Though this time is different. She wouldn’t be working behind Lambert or running errands. She’ll be with Harry just about everyday and she terrified she’ll never be comfortable, always anxiety ridden. Although his life is much different from hers, she’ll be getting a real taste of it and they’re close in age. They’re bound to find something in common. Right?. There’s a bit of silence before Aurora speaks up. “Well, your suits aren’t gonna organize themselves. I better go find Lambert.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t let me stop you from your work.” Aurora nods. She excuses herself as she makes a comment about how she thinks the stage looks great so far. Just after she’s walked past him she feels him grab her hand. “I’m excited to have ya on tour with us, love. Happy to have you making sure I sparkle just right on this stage.” He’s let go of her hand and presents his arms out to the sides as he mentions the stage. 

She’s beaming back at him. “Packed extra rhinestones just for you.” She’s almost skipping down the stairs after that. A weight of relief falling from her shoulders in a light sigh.  First, interaction with Harry? Check. She finds her way back to the room she’d been working in all morning. She settles down on the couch again, pulling the large binder into her lap. She jots down a few notes and adds to the ever growing list of things that need to be done. She stands up and walks over to one of the open wardrobe cases. She’s sliding hangers across the rack before she gets to the next look. Aurora takes the hanger off the rack. The sleek black hanger is labeled Yves Saint Laurent and an emerald green sequined button down shirt hangs off of it. There’s a pair of black straight leg trousers folded over the hanger as well. Aurora carries the ensemble across the room and hangs it on one of the vanity bulbs that sticks out from the light bulb framed mirror. She fixes the collar so it’s sitting straight. She takes a step back with one hand on her hip and another on her chin. 

“What’re you thinking?” Lambert asks when he sees Aurora’s furrowed brow. She hums, still processing her thoughts. 

“You know Michael Jackson’s black sequin jacket? The one he wore when he did the moonwalk for the first time?” He nods, following along. “Think we could play with that idea. What if Harry wore this open, with the Calvin tank?” In the small section of a wardrobe they’ve already gone through is a slew of clothing articles that will be used for multiple shows. The Calvin tank she’s referencing is one that will be, in Aurora’s opinion, an iconic, staple for the entire tour. It’s a simple white ribbed tank but on the left side, “Treat People With Kindness” is embroidered in black. “It’d be closer to Michael’s ‘Billie Jean’ performance in Munich that same year, but it’s the iconic sequin jacket that will sell it.”  

“You really know your stuff huh?” Lambert chuckles, impressed by her knowledge and the way her brain works. Lambert walks away and grabs the tank from the rack and brings it back to Aurora. 

A smile creeps onto Aurora’s face. “My mom loves Michael Jackson. Loves him like everyone loves Harry. I grew up dancing around the house to his music.” She takes the tank from Lambert after he slides it off the hanger. She’s quick to unbutton the YSL shirt in excitement but does it as carefully as possible. She hangs the tank under the shirt, turning it into a overshirt now. The smile on her face is growing. She’s in her element, doing exactly what she’s always wanted to do. Lambert places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze. A silent approval. Aurora walks back to the table and writes down their decision for this look in the notebook she’s been working with. They go through a few more suits and make a note that they’ll need an extra white button down from Gucci. Lambert is sending Aurora there sometime this week to pick a few more things up that are getting finished and some extra shoes for Harry as well. Lambert says Harry likes to wear his shoes to dust and that Aurora will have to make sure he doesn’t go on stage with holes in his shoes cause he will, especially his rainbow loafers.  They finish going through the rest of the suits before calling it a day. Lambert fills her in on the next few day’s timeline to prepare her for the week. Aurora leaves the arena feeling like her heart could burst. She couldn’t have imagined a better first day at her new job. Aurora heads to bed early, after she orders a Domino’s Pizza, to rest up for the days ahead and beat the jet lag that’s bound to hit her in the next few days. 

When she gets to Wembley the next morning, Aurora grabs a coffee from craft services and says hello to a few people she recognizes from yesterday. She’s thankful that everyone has a lot to get done and people are jutting off to their own areas to get to work. Aurora would be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge that she’s a bit overwhelmed by all of the new faces. She knows faces will become familiar as time goes on but right now she’s content with her coffee and knowing that she’s walking to a room to work on her own for awhile. 

When she finds herself in the familiar green room she sets herself up for the day. Aurora pulls her laptop out of her leather bag and presses play on her current spotify playlist. She likes working alone, but not in silence. After collecting her notebook from yesterday and the envelope of images that Lambert left for her she sits down and starts putting together the final look book for tour. She’s organizing the book by tour dates, making a section for each city. 

“Basel, Switzerland” is written on the top of the 1st page in bold all capital letters. Aurora tapes an image of the black glittered Gucci suit that Harry will wear for the opening night of his world tour. She copies any notes she made about this look from yesterday onto the space underneath the photo. After she’s finished the page for Switzerland she goes to the large cases and pulls the black glittered Gucci suit to the empty rolling rack that she set up yesterday. Each of the traveling cases will need to be organized by date to make traveling and set up easier throughout the tour. She continues this process for the next 2 hours. Once her coffee is empty at the end of the 2 hours she has almost 6 cities complete. Aurora takes her empty coffee cup as a sign for her to take a break. Before leaving the room to get more coffee she checks her phone. There’s a few notifications, emails from lists she keeps forgetting to unsubscribe to and a string of texts from her mother. She laughs at the first text - “I know you’re probably fine, but you’re in a different country and I need to hear your voice to make sure you’re still alive and it’s not some kidnapper texting me back” - then another text about 20 mins after that one reads “I love you, I know you’re busy, but please call me” and the last one delivered just a few minutes ago, “I’m your mother, it’s my job to worry.” Aurora shakes her head and feels a bit guilty because she hasn’t texted her mom as much as she probably should have and before knocking out last night she texted her back apologizing for not calling after her first day and that she was just too exhausted. 

Her mom doesn’t answer and is greeted with an automatic voicemail greeting, “Classic,” she chuckles as she hangs up without leaving a message. She shakes her head, standing in the doorway as she sends off a text saying she’s taking a break and to call her back, adding a “I’m good, everything’s amazing! Just calling to chat” as she always does so her mother doesn’t worry any more than she is. As she finishes the texts she mumbled a bit to herself about how her mother is always worrying but never picks up her dang phone. It isn’t until a familiar voice rings through the hallway that she realises she was mumbling quite clearly. 

“Sorry, everything alright, love?” Harry’s distinct voice travels closer to her as she looks up from her phone to him. She’s made her way into the arena hallway completely now. There’s a small furrow in his brow but a slight grin on his face. 

“Ah yeah, didn’t realise I was talking out loud.” She holds her phone up, “You know mothers, always worrying but never actually answering their phone when you call.” Harry laughs, his shoulders shaking. “She sent me this string of texts about being worried and 2 minutes later doesn’t pick up when I call her.” She sighs before sliding her phone into the pocket of the track jacket she’s got on today. 

“My mum does the same. Always saying we don’t talk enough or that she misses me and when I do get the chance she’ll text me back saying she’s out with friends drinking wine or s’thing like that.” Aurora laughs along with him. When she takes a proper look at him she notices he’s wearing black adidas joggers today with a white t shirt and a black nike jacket. 

“Looks like we both had the same idea when we got ready this morning,” she continues to laugh while gesturing between to two of them. They’re dressed almost identical right down to the white sneakers. Aurora’s got on her favourite black lululemon leggings instead of joggers but her tshirt and track jacket look just the same as Harry’s. Harry takes a good look at what he’s got on and back to Aurora and his eyes begin to crinkle and his nose scrunches up before he’s laughing. The laugh is almost a giggle and Aurora has to hold back from flashing him the most endearing smile. 

“Guess it’s a good thing that my Head of Wardrobe and I match. Must mean I’ve got the right person taking care of my clothing then.” He swings his arm around her shoulder before asking if she’s got a minute to grab a snack. 

“Probably should eat and I definitely need some more coffee,” she replies with a smile and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket not knowing what to do with them. There’s something about Harry, it’s that thing that people always talk about, his ease around everyone, the way he makes you feel like you’ve known each other forever. His kind demeanor relaxes Aurora and she’s sure this is how he makes everyone feel. Harry starts to go on about different things that are happening around the arena as they walk to the green room, pointing out different people and what they’re working on. Harry doesn’t know this, but the more Aurora knows about her surroundings and the things people are doing, the more comfortable she feels. Aurora likes knowing what’s going on. She knows it’s got something to do with wanting control over as much as she can but she also knows that there is so much going on that she can’t control anything and she especially knows that it isn’t her job. But knowing is good for her. Just as they turn the corner to the green room her phone rings. She pulls it out of her pocket and “Mother” with a pink heart is flashing on her screen. She shows the phone to Harry and she slides out from under his arm. “Rain check on the snacks?” she offers him before answering the call. She smiles as he shoots her a grin and voices an ‘of course’ before he turns around and goes back the way they had came. She questions his actions for a moment before saying hello to her mother. 

Aurora pulls out her notebook while she’s in the car the next morning to review what she needs to get done today. Written in red, at the top of the page under today’s date is: final fitting with Harry @ 12pm. She’s excited to get some of the newer pieces on him and finally have all the looks together. She’s nervous too. Lambert won’t be there again today or barely at all the rest of the week, her part time buffer ripped away sooner than expected. She knows there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just Harry. ‘Just Harry,’ she continues to mumble under her breath. 

“Miss Del Gatto, we’ve arrived,” Steven, her driver, who she’s come accustomed to after the past few rides, announces. Aurora looks out the window and sees the Gucci store front. 

“Thanks, Steven. I’ll only be a few minutes.” She smiles at him before stepping out of the car. She got dressed this morning in slightly more put together outfit that she had on yesterday, knowing she had to stop into a few stores on her way in to pick up some pieces that were still missing. Her black chunky heeled leather boots make a clacking sound as she walks towards the entrance. Before she can even reach for the door, she’s welcomed by a man in an all black suit that is welcoming her into the store. 

“Welcome to Gucci.” His voice is deep but bright and welcoming, she thanks him with a smile. 

Once she’s a few more steps into the door she adjusts the small gold airplane necklace that is sitting on the outside of her black turtleneck before speaking up. “I’m here to pick up some shoes for Harry,” she rattles out. A questioned look appears on the man’s face. “Harry Lambert and Styles.” She clarifies. 

“Aurora Del Gatto, yes?” another woman’s voice speaks up from across the store. 

“Uh, y-yes,” she stammers while turning towards the women. 

“I’m Lauren. Nice to meet you, Aurora. Harry told me to be expecting you this morning.” Aurora shakes Lauren’s hand with a smile. Lauren looks like a seasoned pro, her black suit fits her perfectly and her greying hair is pulled up into an elegant low bun. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” she says motioning towards the plush dark purple couches. “Would you like any water or coffee, dear?” 

“Oh, I’m alright actually, thank you.” 

“I’ll be right back with everything.” Aurora nods in acknowledgement while sitting down on the couch. She slides off the lightweight, long, camel coloured coat she’s wearing and drapes it over the couch next to her. She checks her watch to make sure she’s good on time. She’s got to stop at Calvin Klein as well before heading to arena to prep for Harry’s fitting. It’s just gone on 10am, she’s got plenty of time but still anxious at the thought of arriving just before the fitting, not getting a chance to set up. She’s brought back from her thoughts when Lauren returns with 3 shoe boxes in her arms and a garment bag.

“I think there are only 2 pairs of shoes I’m supposed to be picking up,” Aurora questions, “the rainbow loafers and the Spring 18 leather boots.” Lauren’s face lights up in a smile. 

“Yes, those are both here and there’s a pair of sneakers here for you as well.” Aurora’s face reflects exactly what is going through her mind: surprise, shock, and other emotions she couldn’t put words to. Her jaw has dropped and her eyes are wide. “Harry called last night and wanted us to fit you into some Ace Sneakers for the tour.” 

“Lambert said that?” Aurora is confused, giddy and nervous, always nervous. She doesn’t even know how to accept a gift like this. She’d also be lying if she hadn’t been looking at these sneakers forever. 

“No, dear, Harry Styles.” Aurora is beyond caught off guard at this point. 

“I’m sorry, I think there must be a mistake. There’s no reason for Harry to be giving me anything.”

“He specifically called these in for you. I don’t know the details, he just wanted to make sure you walked out with the perfect fit.” She set 2 of the boxes down on a glass table and brought over the 3rd box. “I grabbed the 7.5, I’m normally pretty good at guessing.” 

“Well, you would be right.” Aurora laughs nervously. She slides off her boots in order to avoid the overwhelming thoughts in her head. She’s afraid if she doesn’t keep moving she might go into shock. She’s trying on the sneakers before she speaks up again, “Uhm,” Aurora starts to speak, “Does Harry, uh, do this often? I-I mean, uh call in for gifts?” 

“I wouldn’t say often, but I’ve fulfilled a few of his gifting requests over the past few years. Just a handful though. There really hasn’t been many, if I’m honest.” 

Aurora smiles to herself. She’s still confused about it all but still that same familiar feeling rushes through her when she’s reminded of Harry’s incredible kind demeanor. And before she knew it, she's walking out of Gucci with a smile on her face, a tingle in her fingers, a garment bag and not 2 but 3 boxes of shoes.

She’s setting up one last suit on the tall silver rolling rack before she checks her watch. 11:59. She made great time getting to Wembley after grabbing the pink plaid jacket and custom boots from Calvin Klein. There’s a light knock on the slightly ajar door seconds later. 

“‘Ello, love,” Harry’s voice booms through the small, concrete walled room. Aurora turns towards the door. “All ready!” He exclaims as he makes his way towards her. 

“Hi Harry,” Aurora responds before Harry has a hand at her waist and is placing a light kiss on the top of her cheek. 

“How’s your morning been?” He’s now made his way to the rolling rack she had just filled. 

“Good,” she wants to ask him about the shoes but she doesn’t know how to bring it up. “I did uh- I, I-”

“Can I try this one on?” Harry interrupts, suddenly distracted by the garments he hasn’t seen yet. She’s grabbing her book from the table across the room when she hears the sound of hangers hitting the floor. “Oooff,” there’s a chuckle that follows. “That one’s a bit slippery.” 

“Oh gosh, yeah I need to add some hanger loops to that one,” Aurora sets her book down and rushes over to pick up the fallen garments and hangers. Harry utters a few sorry’s before stepping away. She swears she hears him mumble about being in the way. Once she’s got the fallen garments gathered on the crook of her arm, she grabs a hanger adorn in the pink plaid Calvin suit. “That’s what you get for being so nosy,” she quips at him and hands him the suit. His jaw drops slightly but before he can say a thing Aurora’s speaking again, “Try this one on first, please.” Aurora lingers on the please and shoots him a sweet smile. “There’s a small room through there you can change in.” She turns around after motioning towards the door and sees that Harry already has his trousers down to his ankles. “Orrrr you can change right there.” 

“Oh, don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, darling,” he responds as you quickly turn away, sliding the plaid trousers all the way up and buttoning them just as fast.

“Oh no, you’re fine, don’t wanna be rude is all.” Aurora is flipping through her book finding the section for Stockholm. “The black ribbed tank was on the hanger with the jacket, yeah?” She asks as she skims over the page in front of her. He hums back letting her know it’s there. Aurora lifts up her coffee cup from earlier this morning to her lips, turning around to find Harry fully dressed in the Calvin Klein suit she picked up this morning. She frowns realising there’s no coffee left in her cup. 

“What?” Harry asks, his brows knitted together in concern after seeing the frown on her face. “Does it look that bad?” He’s messing with the way he’s tucked the shirt into the waistband of the trousers. 

Aurora giggles at his frantic hands. “Harry, nothing could look bad on you.” She shakes the empty cup in front of him. “I’m out of coffee.” 

“Well, that frown was badly timed. I’ve got a brand new suit on and that’s the first reaction I get?’ 

“Oh you’ll be fine, rockstar. Plenty of ego pumping in the near future,” Aurora quips backs at him as she makes a circle around him. “They did great with this one,” she’s pulling at the shoulders of the jacket so it sits just right on his broad frame. “How do the trousers feel?” She asks as she smooths down the fabric of the sleeves before rounding back to face Harry straight on. 

“The trousers? Yeah they feel good. Fit perfect, I think.” He’s pulled up the bottom of the jacket and is twisting his hips round. “Wha’ d’ya think?” 

“I think Calvin Klein knows exactly what he’s doing,” she says with a smirk. “Okay, that one’s all set, go ahead and put this one on now.” She hands him another pink jacket, this one velvet with embellishments and it has a Gucci tag on it rather than Calvin Klein. She hands him black trousers with a gold trim as well. “You’ll wear this with a button down but just try with the tank. I just need to make sure all the alterations were done properly.” 

“Did you stop at Gucci this morning? Lambert mentioned you were going,” he asks while handing her the plaid suit he just took off. Aurora busies herself with hanging them up. 

“Yeah. Got your loafers and boots. I also-”

“Oh nooooo, Aurora,” Harry’s voice is panicky. 

“Wha-,” is all she gets out before she sees and hears the beads rolling on the floor. “Ahhh I had a feeling that was going to happen. And THIS is why we try things on 100 times. Wouldn’t want you unraveling on stage.” She runs over to her kit that stands in the corner.

“I’m sorry, not sure what I did,” Harry’s face shows worry like he’s done something wrong. 

“Hun, you didn’t do anything, promise. I think it might have been from the alterations.” Aurora is tying a knot in a piece of thread before walking over to him. “I’m just gonna close this strand up while it’s on you and I’ll re embellish it later.” The piece that’s come undone is on the right shoulder. She slides her hand under the jacket to find the back of the spot she needs to fix. Her hand brushes the skin of his shoulder, reminding her he’s only wear the tank underneath and he flinches. “Sorry, my hands are probably cold. This will only take a second.” 

“S’alright, love.” There’s silence while she focuses on the work in front of her. Once she’s finished she carefully slips a small pair of gold scissors underneath the jacket and cuts the thread and needle she had been working with loose, detaching herself from Harry’s shoulder. “That was quick,” Harry says with a tone of surprise and Aurora thinks she can hear a little bit of disappointment as well. Aurora shrugs her shoulders in response. 

“Could you put on the black version of that jacket for me?” Aurora asks as she grabs a spool of black thread. “Think we might have the same problem with that one too.” She slides the needle she’s threaded with black thread onto the cuff of her sweater so she doesn’t lose it. She helps Harry into the black jacket and hangs up the one he just had on. 

“Aannddd there it is,” Harry says with chuckle as a strand of beads comes loose on his right sleeve. Aurora gets to work on the one on his sleeve as 2 more make themselves known on his back. “So you got my boots and loafers this morning? Up to anything else before I came in and ruined all the garments?” Aurora laughs and moves to his back to take care of the broken pieces there. 

“Uhm picked up that Calvin jacket and your custom boots. Let me tell you, those boots are glorious. The glossed leather with the steel tip will look incredible with your suits. ”

“Oh can I see them when we’re done?”

“‘Course you can!” There’s some silence between them again as she concentrates on the job in front of her. She catches a glimpse of the white gucci bags that are sitting by one of the wardrobe cases and it’s like those new sneakers are burning a hole in her head. It clicks in her head now that he’s been directing the conversation this way trying to get it out of her. “Hey Harry,” she’s met with a hum, “can I ask you about something?” She continues to work on the jacket, keeping her hands busy. She’s thankful that the strand she’s working on is on his back so she doesn’t have to make eye contact with him. 

“‘Course, Aurora.” 

“Uhm, at Gucci this morning, they uh, they fitted me for sneakers,” Harry hums in response, “and um, I-I, um, that was very kind of you.” She’s stuttering through her words. It wasn’t until now that she got a tinge of nervousness. “Y-you didn’t need to do that. Really.” 

“Aurora, I wanted to. And I thought you deserved some new shoes.” She can’t see his face but she can hear the smile that’s formed on his face. “We’ve got a few countries to trek around the next few months.” 

Moments later she’s finished repairing what she can and she’s sliding Harry’s jacket off his shoulders. “Thank you, Harry,” she says finally after the black jacket is hung back on its Gucci hanger on the rolling rack near them. “Seriously, too kind.” 

“No such thing as too kind, Ror,” he quips back and before she can comment on the nickname, he’s talking again. “Now what else do you need me to try on?” 

The afternoon goes by quickly and Harry is patient with her. He stands up straight in each new piece and asks questions about different things she’s making notes of or checking off of her thousands of lists. She checks her watch quickly as she’s making one last note. 

“How is it 3 o’clock already?” Aurora stammers out. “Sorry to take your entire afternoon from you.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Ror.” Harry’s pulling down the hem of his white tshirt he walked in wearing earlier today, “Nice to spend some time with ya and seems like you’ve been able to check a lot off your list.” 

“You probably have a list a mile long of things that need to be done this week too, though,” she rebuttals. “Or do you have someone to take care of those things for you?” she jokes. 

“Oh yeah, don’t remember their name, but I just tell them everything I need done and they do it for me.” The look on Aurora’s face is utter disgust, unable to politely react because she wasn’t expecting that answer.  There was no hint of sarcasm in Harry’s voice. Harry’s face is still and he’s silent for a moment before his nose scrunches up and a giggle erupted from his mouth. “Ror, I’m totally kidding.” He’s placed a hand on her shoulder now, rubbing his thumb soothingly. 

“Harry,” she’s giggling along now too, “you had me for a second.” 

Harry thanks her for her work and the time spent together today and leaves only after giving her a hug and a short kiss on her cheek. 

The next few days are spent hand stitching gold and silver beads onto those 2 Gucci jackets, labeling every single piece of the wardrobe and then organizing the giant crates for the travel managers to take and get ready to fly. She walks through all of the wardrobes multiple time and completes fittings with all of Harry’s band members as well. Brief 1 hour time frames are scheduled with each of them, Clare, Sarah, Adam and Mitch. Lambert pops in to make sure the final fittings went well and pays complements to Aurora’s new sneakers she’s sporting with a knowing look on his face. 

There’s one day left till the first tour stop and the arena is just about empty. The stage is packed up, the wardrobe crates have been taken from Aurora and the number of people in the arena is starting to dwindle down. Since everything is already loaded on a truck making its way to the airport Aurora didn’t have much to do today but she kept herself busy at the apartment she’s been at all week for the majority of the morning. She’s repacked multiple times getting everything to fit perfectly, almost committing the perfect folding techniques and order of adding things to her suitcase to memory. Everyone is to arrive at the airport early the next morning but Harry has arranged for a group lunch at the arena for one last collective meeting before the tour starts.

Aurora arrives a few minutes early to the lunch and says hello to a few crew members she’s gotten to know. Lambert is there too - seems that Harry has invited anyone who has helped with the prep of the tour regardless if they’re coming along or not. She also meets a few more new faces like Ayae, Harry’s hair and makeup stylist. She’s new to the tour group and hasn’t been needed for prep so this his her 1st time meeting a lot of the crew too. She sits down with Aurora and Lambert at a table and is engaging in a conversation about this and that when Harry comes up to the table with Jeff. Jeff is a familiar face to Aurora even though she has only interacted with him a few times.  Jeff always seems to be everywhere - Aurora always makes mental acknowledgment about how he is consistently working on something but always is seemingly available to everyone. 

Alicia, a woman probably in her late 30’s, is following Harry and Jeff with a grey rolling cart like you would see in an old cafeteria and it’s filled with large cardboard boxes. Aurora has met Alicia and remembers Lambert introducing her as the Tour Merchandise Manager. 

“Aurora, Ayae, Harry, great to see all of you! Doing alright, I assume?” Jeff asks while rounding the cart and reaching a hand in the box. 

“Got some tour sweatshirts for everyone, treat people with kindness and all that,” Harry adds in, running a hand through his hair. It isn’t until now that Aurora notices the length of his hair. It’s not as short as it was when she first met him but it’s nowhere near the length she remembers him having while still in One Direction. There is one curl that won’t stay back no matter how many times he runs his hand through it to push it back. The lone curl falls against his forehead one last time before he gives up. 

“Oh, very humble of you, Harry,” Ayae says with a chuckle while examining the sweatshirt Alicia had just given her.

It’s a plain black Champion hoodie with 2 small pieces of embroidery, 1 on the left of the chest and the other on the inside of the right arm. Ayae is referring to the large embroidered “Harry” on the chest. Underneath his name is ‘World Tour 2018’. Hah. He’s gotta love this shit. His name written on everything. Clothing, signs, his name is branded everywhere. 

“Heyyyyy,” Harry’s voice is slightly whiny, both of his eyes scrunch up and his brows furrow. The ‘hey’ turns into a giggle and they all laugh along with him. Harry then hands Aurora her sweatshirt. “Here ya go, Ror.” She thanks him softly after taking it from him. 

Post lunch, Harry, Jeff and a few others talk about how excited they are and how successful the prep went all week. The Head Travel Manager, Daniel, reminds everyone to double check their itinerary when they get home tonight and to double, triple, quadruple check they’ve packed everything. Harry yells something about making sure everyone’s got their passport cause “long story short” he forgot his once and it was not a day full of kindness. The large group chuckles at his little antidote before the room begins to clear out and everyone heads home to get ready to travel the next day. 

Thanks for reading !!! Feedback & comments are always welcome !!! 

[tomyo]

In 2013, I had been taught a rule amongst my group of friends. No one would ask you to do it, but when you went over to a friend's house it became customary to clean their dishes whether you had a meal with them or not (but especially if you had a meal).

We were all in our early twenties and in college so dishes naturally tended to pile up so taking care of them was a small effort to show that you cared for their well-being. It was also often multiple people helping which made it less tedious and almost enjoyable. I also remember the sense of relief when a friend offered to take care of it at my own place. I remember doing it for a friend out of the circle and their grateful but puzzled response. I had waken up before everyone else and rather awkwardly wait around on my phone, the act had not only given me something to do but also meant I could possibly restore some time that my friend spent hosting me. That knowledge is gratifying.

But for all the joy I feel when I do it for others, I hate it in my own home. In my various apartments I could excuse it as being too busy but I've failed to be more active during covid. It reflects somewhat poorly on my relationship with myself and cohabitators.

So, tips for people who also hate doing dishes:

1. Even if it's just for you, frame it in your mind as an act of love.

2. There is downtime but there is also apathy. Do not think of your life as a need for constant productivity, mindless relaxation is healthy but consider how spending some time cleaning might be good self care.

3. When it's safe to see others, consider making the active choice in taking care of your friend's dishes. When you visit some, they are often dedicating time into accommodating you; the planning before, your needs while you are there, and then the clean up afterwards. By giving help while you are there, it returns to them some of that time. Recognizing the relief you can give to someone you love is rewarding in itself. And by changing your relationship to a task you don't like, you can also make it easier to accomplish in your own life.

My final ramble is a huge detour from dishes but during this time, it is easy to hole up. I recognize I'm in a unique position to most where I've had to accept that I cannot work for now and chosing so does not jeopardize my livelihood. But for those who are possibly in a similar situation, focusing on taking care of my environment not only has helped give me control and distraction from the stress but has helped alleviate it from others who haven't been able to. I tried to clean surfaces more often as well as reorganize areas to relieve my mum's stress and through the confidence that comes with having time to accomplish what I wanted has made it easier to reach out to others who are not doing as well. I guess simply to say that quarintine can suck bad for people struggling with depression but it can also be a time to empower yourself since there is less societal clutter. To be frank, I started the year in a horrible state and went into intensive therapy. Before I could make it to the specialized program I needed, covid had hit but I came away with a better understanding of the relationship between mental and physical health. I started covid by doing menial hobbies I never got to pick up, began to work on unfinished projects, and then started to clean up my environment. Right now I feel like my life is on hold, so I'm spending my time doing the things I regret not being able to do when I wasn't. Because I've put in effort to declutter my mind, the bigger tasks start to be easier. In the moment it's easy to view dishes, a pile of unfinished cosplays, a children's craft kit, or an unclean desk as not integral to your well being but in hindsight I can see how those steps lead to working better on my artwork, becoming coherent in tough conversations I used to breakdown over, and being able to reach out to others after almost closing myself off to all but 3 people (which were rocky in themselves). I really intended to just encourage people at first to do dishes for others but in wanting to acknowledge the less fun self care, I want to stress that some slots of time that are no longer being used from your precovid schedule can become small steps to greater improvement than you realize.

[lovelyirony]

y’all didn’t think i would did you 

Winnie wakes up around seven, groaning as Bucky’s alarm goes off. Why that boy can wake up for a shift at work but not for anything else is beyond her. Today is her day off, which means a lot has to happen.

Bucky stumbles into the kitchen, grabbing a bagel and stuffing it in the toaster. “Hey honey,” Winnie says with a smile, coffee cup in one hand and the other wrapping around her son. “Have a good night’s sleep?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters. He shuffles over to the coffeemaker, pouring himself a cup and adding some creamer in. “No weird dreams last night, except that Steve was secretly Leonardo da Vinci.” Winnie laughs, taking a bite of her toast.

“You have crazy dreams, sweetheart. What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Go to work, try not to die. Take Steve home from his art club so he doesn’t walk in rainy weather.” She nods, making a mental note to remind Sarah so she doesn’t stress out. Steve used to have a medley of maladies, yet still thought he could kick God’s own ass. It was a problem. Now his immune system is kicking into high gear, but he still does a lot of stupid things. (Not that Winnie will mention it, he’s like a better-behaved son, but she Knows.)

“What about you, Ma? What’s your plan for today?”

“Eh, not much,” Winnie responds. “Get some work emails out of the way, go grocery shopping with Maria. I’m letting her use some of my bags.”

“Cool.”

That’s the end of conversation for a bit, until Bucky glances at the clock, grabs his keys, and drops a kiss on his mom’s cheek. “Love you, Ma. I’ll see you later today, okay?” Winnie waves goodbye, cleans up a bit of breakfast, and shoots off a text to Maria. When do you want to go grocery shopping?

How about 11?

Sounds great! Meet you outside your door.

Admittedly, Maria can’t wait until eleven rolls around. No matter what she does, time seems to tick slowly on by. She cleans the kitchen floor, tidies up Tony’s desk (it’s a nightmare), and also reorganizes her closet for the upcoming fall.

When it is 10:55, Maria gets out of the door, double-checks to make sure she has everything in her wallet and purse, and sees Winnie. She smiles brightly. “Hello Win!” She says. “Ready to go?”

“Of course!”

As they walk, they talk about everything in between. Weather, their sons, flowers, and groceries. Winnie says that general brand is as good as name brand, don’t let anything about it fool you. “Some people can taste the difference, but I doubt Tony will care,” she says. “Okay, we’re gonna get a cart and go.”

Maria picks up a lot of things. She picks up a jar of blackberry preserves for breakfast, some sauces, spices, fruits, and vegetables. Other basics, but that’s about it. She and Winnie at some products, Winnie reminisces over packing Bucky’s lunch for him every day with a little bag of chips, sandwich, and pudding. Maria picks up a box of goldfish, smiling as she remembers when Tony was young. He loved the fruit that Jarvis would cut up, the sticky juice running down his fingers. It would take him forever to be cleaned up—that boy avoided baths like it was his personal job.

After they finish up grocery shopping, Winnie offers to have Maria over for coffee and lunch. “I just got this nice arrangement of sandwiches from a coworker and as good as they are, I can’t finish them myself,” she says with a smile. “Would you like to have some?”

“Of course,” Maria says. “I’m always ready to eat with you.” Winnie grins, nearly blushing. “Let me just put my groceries away, and then I’ll be over to yours, if you’ll have me.”

“Always,” Winnie replies. Maria smiles, ducking into her apartment for a moment. She’s quite glad that Winnie can’t see her, because Maria is currently shoving groceries wherever they can fit, and rushing to get the bags back to an orderly fashion for her. Tony might text her about the state of the kitchen later, but for now she is going over to Winnie’s house to have coffee and lunch.

The other woman is currently trying to throw a cheese plate together and failing—she forgot to get the damned Colby Jack, best of all—and there’s a polite knock on her door. Winnie feels a bit like a mess. “Mother of shit,” she curses. “Shit, shit, shit—” The door opens to Maria looking very much so put together, Winnie probably looks like garbage, and there’s the smell of coffee wafting between the two of them.

“Uh, hello Maria. I tried my best to prepare lunch before you came, but there’s only so much time you have before a lady comes back from putting away her groceries.”

“Very right,” she says softly with a laugh. “Lead the way, Winnie.”

Winnie’s house is decorated very nicely. Portraits of the family, those dorky old outfits on full display. Maria remembers the shirts that were popular at the time, remembered that she owned a fair amount of them when it was around that time. Winnie smiles as she looks at them.

“James’ father hates these,” she says. “So I keep them around whenever he visits with his wife.” Maria nods. They head to the kitchen, some sunlight streaming in. She has coordinating cloths, sponges, and the whole scene is perfectly domestic. The black coffeemaker in the back completes it. Maria offers to help set the table, and Winnie lets her. They move comfortably in the kitchen as Maria navigates it, slowly moving around Winnie. She gets the plates and glasses, setting the latter down on the counter to get water. They bump into each other, and Maria tries not to let Winnie see her cheeks heat up, but that’s probably impossible at this point.

“So,” Maria says. “What kind of coffee do we have, Win?” The casual nickname shouldn’t make Winnie smile as much as she’s going to, but she gets out the selection.

“We have some breakfast blend, sugar cookie, and…oh god, I don’t even remember getting this one. Amaretto?” Maria’s eyes brighten at the last one, Winnie laughing. “Guess we’ll go with that one. Get me some coffee cups?” Maria chooses one with flowers all over it, the other one an old-fashioned diner cup. Winnie turns suddenly, coming closer into Maria’s space.

“Oh!” Maria exclaims. “I’m sorry Winnie!”

“It’s fine, this is a close kitchen,” she says. Also, given that Maria smelled like flowers and good things, being in close quarters was literally the best thing ever.

They get their coffee, sandwiches, and talk a little bit. Maria is talking about maybe starting working at a bookstore—the owner seriously needs some reorganization in the book department as well as some design work. While Maria doesn’t exactly have the best qualifications, she knows that she can prove herself. Winnie encourages it.

“You always look so cute, I wouldn’t even question it,” Winnie comments. Maria’s cheeks turn pink as she looks down at her coffee.

“Aw, thanks Win. You look beautiful too.” Winnie grins, taking another sip of her coffee. It was a good idea to be friends with Maria. She just hoped she didn’t muck it up by having actual feelings for her.

Tony wasn’t exactly the best morning person. Sure, he took coffee in the morning and practically gulped the whole thing down in five minutes, but that didn’t mean much. He still looked like he was a walking dead man.

Steve knew this, and still thought that Tony was one of the cutest guys he’d ever met. Steve would grin as Tony swayed out the door, smiling dopily at Steve.

“Hey,” he’d mutter, readjusting his backpack. “Ready to go?”

“Yup!” Steve would reply. “Did you do the English assignment?”

“About the…was it the Middle English?”

“Middle Ages,” Steve corrected. “We were supposed to be reading more lines from Beowulf.” Tony curses.

“No, I didn’t.” Then Steve gives him a basic summary, Tony commits to memory, probably gets a better test score than he should—damn that eidetic memory—and all is well. Their lockers are a couple away from each other, so Tony leaves Steve to go put his things away.

Tony really thinks that having a cute neighbor that goes to the same school is just unfair. Especially since Steve is a morning person, goes on a two-mile run every single day of his life, and is very, very attractive. Tony looks roughly like a mess in the morning, which is only worsened by the death sentence that is school. Just because he can do it doesn’t always mean he wants to. Especially this early in the morning, because who the hell even wants to get up early, save for Steve, Bucky, and probably all of Steve’s stupidly-attractive friends. Ugh, Tony needed more people who couldn’t deal with the morning.

The day goes on, Tony making faces at Steve in the hallway, asking him how his day was going.

“Going good. Hey, you eating with us in the cafeteria?” Steve asks, shoving his math book into his locker. “Natasha wants to verify that you’re a criminal when it comes to hydration.”

“All she has to do is wait a week, then see me fall in the middle of AP Chem,” Tony says.

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves a water bottle at Tony. “Drink, because I have a bet going that you’ll pass out next week and I really don’t want to lose five bucks to Nat.”

“Done,” Tony says, chugging the water bottle and handing it back. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Natasha scowls at Tony as he sits down at the table. “You’re soft, Carbonell.”

“Comes with drinking water and all that fun jazz,” Tony says. “Which, by the way, I believe you owe Steve five bucks.”

“Schemer,” Natasha mutters, sliding crumpled ones over the table. Steve takes out his wallet, putting them in. Tony snickers as he sees the picture of young Steve and his mom in a photo booth.

“You’re a goofball,” Tony says.  “Look at that stupid shirt you have on.”

“What, saying you haven’t done a photo booth thing before, Tony?”

“Nope,” Tony says. “I was busy doing other, cooler things.”

“What, like singing along to Rosemary Clooney records with your mom?” Steve teases. “We can hear the music, and a screeching voice…” Tony lightly pushes Steve on the arm, making a noise of protest.

“I’m sorry that you don’t know how amazing Rosemary is, but we have a lot of fun. Maybe this means you won’t be getting any orange chicken tonight.”

Natasha looks between the two of them; Steve liked to say that he didn’t fall easily, but here he was. Staring at Tony like he hung up the stars just-so, and Tony was smiling softly as he stole some of Steve’s blueberries when he wasn’t looking. They were in love. Steve was a liar. She’d have to collect on his statement of not falling easily. Maybe after they got together.

The rest of the day passes without incident for Tony and Steve. Natasha has a class with Bruce, and they have a substitute teacher, which basically means they’re doing nothing. She turns to Bruce, who sits to the right.

“You’ve noticed Steve and Tony too, right?”

“Repeat that?” Bruce asks, taking an earbud out. “Listening to loud music.” She repeats her statement, and he nods as soon as she finishes the sentence. “Oh yeah, definitely. Tony’s head over heels, and always talks about what Steve is going to do at home with him. I think this Friday he doesn’t have a football game, so maybe going to the roller rink. I know Steve’s skipping the party. And I think Tony mentioned having a puzzle night on Saturday.”

“I’d skip the party to do a puzzle if I knew it was hosted at Rumlow’s house,” Natasha mutters. “God knows how crazy people get over there.” Bruce nods.

“Yeah, real asshole guy. Tried to copy my physics work, and got caught because in Mr. Rainey’s words, ‘you haven’t been paying enough attention to do this much complex work.’” Natasha snorts, eyeing the clock. They got out of class in ten minutes. Enough time to get started on the actual bookwork, but not enough time to actually put any real work into it. Besides, she wants to tell Bruce about some gossip she heard from the cheer squad involving one of the teachers’ past.

Tony waits for Steve to finish football practice, and walks up to him after all the guys exit the locker room.

“It’s your lover boy,” Sam teases Steve. “Waiting for his sweetheart to get out of practice, and all.”

“Aw shut up,” Steve says, shoving Sam a little bit. “Makes sense to walk home together. We live in the apartment complex. I think you’re just jealous because you don’t have actual friends. Me and Bucky don’t count, you’re our charity case.” Sam flips Steve off as he pulls out his car keys.

“That was cold man, straight-up cold. Think I might actually report you to Coach Phillips, see what he does.”

“Probably congratulate me,” Steve says. “Finally affected you, dumbass.” Sam grins, bids him goodbye, and Steve looks over to Tony with a soft smile.

“Hey Stevie,” Tony says. “How was practice?”

“Same as always. We went over some plays, yelled at some of the second-strings, and listened to Phillips tell us that just because Ridgemont has a shit team doesn’t mean we can jack around next Friday. You and your mom are still coming, right?”

“Sitting with Sarah and everything,” Tony says with a grin. “You still on for a puzzle night?”

“Of course,” Steve says. “I haven’t done a puzzle in ages.”

“Me either,” Tony says. “Mama picked up a new one, it looks fun. Shows a picture of vintage candy tins.”

“Nice,” Steve responds, adjusting his backpack. “You excited for the roller rink?”

“Yeah, I’ve never gone to one before,” Tony says. “I don’t even really know if I can skate.”

“If you can’t, I’ll make sure you don’t fall,” Steve teases. “After all, you can’t cling to the wall the whole time.”

“My knight in shining armor,” Tony declares, hand over his heart. “Whatever do I owe you?” Steve pretends to think for a moment.

“A skate dance when we go, I think.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “Come on, I bet that Winnie or mom is cooking food.”

“I’m not gonna bet, I got a text from your mom that said she’s making garlic bread.”

“Yes!”

The boys arrive at Maria’s apartment in a heap of backpacks and jackets and laughs. Maria smiles, greeting Steve with a hug and Tony with a kiss on the cheek and a reminder to get his laundry folded and put away.

“Yes, Mama!” Tony calls, slumping to the family room. “Ugh, I’m so tired. I had to listen to Professor Reed drone on and on about physics and practicality. Worst class ever.”

“Then why do you take it?” Steve asks, slipping in the Mario Kart disc. “I say ditch it and find a more interesting class.”

“Nah, I like his reaction when I write my papers dissing his personal theories, it’s therapeutic.” Steve laughs, tossing him a controller. “You prepared to have your ass kicked in Mushroom Gorge?”

“Only when you admit defeat when I get first place.”

“Oh, that’s a challenge.”

They continue playing, occasionally trash-talking each other. In between, Sarah comes in, bearing the ground beef for the spaghetti and some more dishware that she doesn’t use anymore that Maria likes.

“Ready to get that waffle-maker dream out of your head?” Sarah asks.

“No, definitely not,” Maria replies, winking. “Pass me the oregano, will you? This needs a little bit more for the meatballs.” Sarah tosses her the bottle, and they work with relative ease, Sarah humming along to Bob Seger on the radio.

“I’m glad you’re here, our last neighbor was boring,” Sarah says. “Real old lady who borrowed my good cheese grater and never gave it back.”

“I’m glad I’m here, then,” Maria says. “Can you get the boys, it’s nearly dinner time. They need to wash up.”

Sarah enters the room to hear Steve and Tony arguing about whether or not Mario is actually good.

“As educational as this is, I’m going to have to have you guys save it for later,” Sarah says, smiling. “Steve, Tony, wash up. We’re having spaghetti. Tony, could you cut up some fruit for us?”

“Always,” Tony says, giving Sarah a kiss on the cheek. “Your day go okay, Ms. Rogers?”

“Of course,” Sarah answers. “Just a couple of medical hiccups on paperwork at the hospital. I’m just glad I have tomorrow off.”

“Break time,” Steve comments, making his way to the bathroom.

They’re all seated at the table, laughing together as Maria tells them about her grocery store experience. They share knowing looks when she talks about her and Winnie getting coffee.

“Your mom has a crush,” Steve mutters to Tony.

“No duh,” Tony murmurs back, smiling and putting another bite of blueberries into his mouth before his mother catches him.

[beca-mitchell]

prompt 15

one more box (1/1)

summary: The complexities of moving across the country.

word count: 2.5k

written in response to prompt 15: “Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not.”

Beca isn’t sure that she needs this many people helping her move out. It’s not like she had that much to begin with, considering she shares – shared – a tiny apartment with two other people.

Still, more than half of the Bellas are in her apartment (somehow) and they’re helping her move her belongings into the waiting truck below. Amy offered to make herself scarce about an hour and a half ago and Beca notes she is now lounging on her own bed, flipping through a magazine.

The Brooklyn apartment is so small. It was ridiculous that they were attempting to fit that many people at all, let alone smoothly move herself, Aubrey, Emily, Stacie, Lilly, Cynthia-Rose, and - of course - Chloe in and out of the apartment was difficult. Aubrey seemed to delight in delegating tasks to people and reorganizing Beca’s boxes, despite Beca’s insistence that there was already a system in place (there wasn’t) and that Beca would prefer that Aubrey didn’t touch her things (she really didn’t mind, it was just funny to see Aubrey’s lips purse into a thin line and it was also fun to hear Chloe’s light giggles).

Beca doesn’t want to admit it because she’s enjoying the company and the chaos, but it’d probably be easier if she did this herself, but her heart thuds in her chest of giving up precious time with her friends – her family – before she has to move across the country.

Chloe and Aubrey both were trying their best to organize the Bellas. Chloe had the upper hand of also having lived in the apartment and knowing exactly where Beca’s things were – even things that she didn’t even know she had. Aubrey, however, had a chart. It looked remarkably like her old blocking charts when she ran Bellas choreography and considering how disorganized everybody happens to be at the moment, Beca thinks it’s somewhat indicative of why Chloe had primarily taken care of choreography as opposed to Aubrey (or even Beca herself).

It didn’t matter however, how helpful Chloe and Aubrey were being. Nobody was really listening and it was mostly a cacophony of noise and laughter. Beca wouldn’t have it any other way.

Their friends were just…terrible at moving, it seemed.

Cynthia-Rose and Emily were probably the most helpful ones. Beca had to quickly remove a few items from Lilly’s grasp because she looked close to either breaking it or, well, Beca’s not sure what else she would have done with it. Stacie was flirting with Beca’s next door neighbour about ninety percent of the time. It ultimately didn’t matter who was being helpful at any point in time, ultimately; everybody else was consistently bad at moving that somebody’s helpfulness didn’t make much of a difference.

Beca is thankful that she packed most of her stuff anyway before her friends arrived. With Chloe’s help, they had managed to square most of her things away.

“I’m going to be lucky if I can find a mug at all,” Beca murmurs to Chloe.

Chloe smiles at her, vibrant as always. “Is there anything else I can pack for you?” Beca tries not to focus on the underlying storm of emotions in Chloe’s eyes – a far cry from the emotions Beca had previously been privy to when, well-

“You’re such a good kisser,” Chloe murmurs, tugging Beca back into her body.

“You said that,” Beca reminds her, chasing her lips with her own. She tucks her hands into the back pockets of Chloe’s jeans, sighing heavily against Chloe’s mouth when Chloe’s hips rock into hers determinedly. “I think you’re a good kisser too.”

Chloe giggles. “We’re drunk,” she points out unnecessarily, sitting heavily on their shared bed.

“Amy’s not home,” Beca replies, as if that somehow makes sense. She breathes deeply, watching Chloe unbutton and unzip her jeans, pushing them hastily down her hips. Chloe’s eyes are ablaze – lit up with the reflection of the soft light emanating from their small stand-up lamp. Beca swallows at the heaviness of Chloe’s gaze: heated, tender, and filled with unmistakable lust as she slides her hands up Beca’s bare thighs.

“Come here,” Chloe murmurs.

“You should move back in,” Beca points out, watching intently when Chloe pulls her own her shirt over her head. Chloe moving out after a fight with Beca was still a sore spot between the two, but preserving their friendship had been the most important thing on Beca’s mind. She supposes it kind of worked, all things considered. “We could be doing this all the time,” Beca says in a convincing tone.

“And what’s this?” Chloe asks, swinging her leg over Beca’s thighs and effectively straddling her.

Beca chalks up her lack of an answer to the fact that Chloe’s hand is sliding down the front of her underwear.

It’s nothing. Everything.

That had been the beginning of a…tentative relationship. A tense, back-and-forth that was neither a complete friends-with-benefits situation, nor was it an actual, fully-blossomed relationship.

Beca had cared too much about her job, and Chloe cared too much about holding on to the past.

(Also, it had been so difficult for Beca to categorize the terms of their relationship as anything remotely friendly – not when she was so ridiculously in love with Chloe Beale and had been for years.

There was also the added bonus of knowing that Chloe likely had feelings for her too.

Just.

Neither of them were in the right place.)

The break-up had been gradual.

Not that there had been much to break-up to begin with.

It’s fine. They’re still friends.

(It’s only just one of the best and most achingly sad years of their lives.)

Chloe blinks.

And now, Beca Mitchell is moving across the country.

Away, away, away-

“Hm, can you just check my nightstand? I emptied it last night, but like, if you do that, then you don’t have to drag Stacie away from Greg again.”

Chloe snorts. “So considerate.”

Beca grins at her and leaves the apartment to bring a box downstairs to the truck.

Chloe gazes around the nearly empty apartment. Of course, Amy’s things are still there, but all she sees are the spaces where Beca’s things should be, but they aren’t. She doesn’t see Beca’s favorite headphones, she doesn’t see Beca’s favorite jacket, messily draped over the closest chair, she doesn’t see Beca’s laptop, balanced precariously on the kitchen counter.

She doesn’t see Beca.

Moving out had been the best decision for Chloe at the time. She remembers when she had packed all her things away about two years ago, realizing it was for the best because her feelings for Beca were getting out of hand and Beca was still working through the long distance thing with Jesse.

Then, as suddenly as Chloe had moved out, Beca and Jesse had broken up.

And as equally suddenly, Beca had her tongue shoved down Chloe’s throat and her hand raking up Chloe’s back, bringing Chloe back into her orbit again.

And again and again and again-

Chloe shakes her head to herself and picks up a surprisingly empty box near the bed. Sitting on the edge, she opens Beca’s drawer, peering into it and making sure Beca has everything she needs. She smiles as she sees Beca’s old glasses, a bunch of colorful pens, and an old, somewhat familiar beanie that Beca clearly no longer had any use for. It was folded unceremoniously and shoved near the back of the drawer. She bites her lip and quickly picks up the beanie, intending on keeping it when suddenly, a small box falls out of the hat and onto her lap.

Chloe’s heart nearly leaps into her throat. The box strikes familiarity in her, even though she can’t recall ever seeing this.

The voice in her head tells her she’s wrong.

She knows this box like the back of her hand – how could she forget?

Against her better judgment, she opens it an inhales shakily at the delicate diamond perched on a simple silver band.

Her mouth forms an ‘o’ before she can stop herself and she would collapse if she weren’t already sitting.

The six-month old memory is as clear as day.

She never forgot, she just pushed it aside because it drummed up terrible feelings of guilt and despair.

Chloe can’t sleep. It was too quiet her apartment. Now that she lived by herself, she didn’t get the sound of Amy’s snores – the perfect white noise machine against the constant sound of New York traffic.

She hates the quiet; she hates being away from Beca.

She had grown accustomed to Beca’s presence over the past year, since they decided to take their flirting to the next level, but it clearly wasn’t enough since neither of them was really willing to try to push for more.

Too afraid, too soon, too needy – excuses run through Chloe’s head regularly these days and only make her angrier and more afraid of losing Beca forever.

It felt right at the time, quietly telling Beca that they shouldn’t see each other anymore, but Beca’s hurt expression and the immediate rebuilding of her walls had nearly completely shattered Chloe’s resolve.

As if on cue, her phone buzzes on her nightstand. Once, then twice, then a third and fourth time in a row.

Becachlochloeeeopen, pleaseits fucking cold

Chloe blinks, unsure if she’s dreaming or having some kind of nightmare – a reminder of what she can’t have.

Chloeare you sleep-texting me?

Against her better judgment, Chloe wraps her jacket around her shoulders and grabs her keys. At the front steps of her building, sure enough, Beca is there, pacing, just outside her door.

She has to know. Beca looks determined. “Beca?”

Beca stops pacing immediately and reached up to adjust her hat – a soft knitted beanie that fit snugly on her head. Chloe tilts her head, thinking that Beca looks adorable (as she usually does), but also a little cold.

“Nice PJs, Beale,” Beca says, walking towards her slowly.

"Are you drunk?” Chloe asks softly. “Bec, I should call you an Uber and get you home.”

“This is a bad idea,” Beca says, mostly to herself. Chloe frowns in confusion. “I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?”

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

Chloe blinks. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Beca, this isn’t…you’re drunk. You can’t seriously expect me to…”

“Please say you love me back. Please tell me that this is killing you as much as it’s killing me.” Beca looks like she’s fighting the urge to grab the front of Chloe’s jacket. Chloe’s kind of grateful she doesn’t because she doesn’t know if she can resist.

“Beca, we just need time, okay? Neither of us…You just broke up with Jesse.”

“Yeah, almost a year ago!” Beca shouts.

Chloe winces, hoping her neighbours are deep sleepers. “Beca, keep your voice down.”

“Why are you so fucking fixated on him? Why can’t you see that I’m – I’m trying and –” Beca’s brow furrows. “Why do you get to be okay about all this?” Beca asks softly, breaking the edge in her voice. “Stop it.”

Chloe sighs. “Beca, you should come inside and lie down-”

“Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not!” Beca cries.

Tears spring to Chloe’s eyes. “Of course I’m not okay,” she says softly as Beca starts to cry in earnest. “We should talk about this tomorrow. This is the right thing to do, trust me.”

"No, just – just listen to me, Chlo,” Beca says after a loud sniffle. Chloe instinctively reaches out to hold on to Beca’s forearms even though her brain screams at her not to.

"I-I know…that you love me,” Beca says quickly. “But I also…I know that we both need to learn how to…how to grow together.” She bites her lip, struggling for words. “You deserve someone who will put your dreams first. Somebody who’ll help you and - and lift you up. I want to be that person for you. I can be that person, I promise. I can – I can quit my job and-”

“I don’t want you to quit your job,” Chloe says softly. “I never wanted that.”

“But I would do that,” Beca replies, tilting her head in confusion. “I…I want to be your first choice and, I think, even if I’m not, I think you and I could really make a life together. I would do everything to make you happy, and I know I can’t change the past or how long I made you wait, or – or how fucking awful I’ve been, but I promise I’d protect you and love you and put your needs first.”

Beca pauses then, seemingly waiting for a response. Her eyes peer into Chloe’s blearily.

“I don’t understand,” Chloe says finally, when the silence grows too heavy. Maybe she’s drunk.

She’s so tired.

Her heart seems to tell her that Beca is saying something, but it’s too muddled. Too contrary to everything Beca seemed to want from her when they were actually together.

"No,” Beca says quickly when she sees Chloe start to move away. “I’m not done. Chloe, I know it’s sudden and everything, but every day I think about how much I want to wake up next to you.”

Before Chloe can do or say anything, Beca is presenting a velvet box that she apparently had in her pocket the whole time. Chloe’s hands fall limply to her side as she stares at Beca numbly. Suddenly the cold doesn’t seem to matter. “Marry me?”

…That’s a ring.

There’s a ring.

And Beca definitely just proposed to her, managing to include swearing somehow.

“Please, I know…I know that you trust me, and I trust you, and I think we can make it. I’ve known how much you meant to me since Barden. Since you walked into my damn shower. I was just so damn confused.” Beca is crying again and Chloe feels her own eyes well up in response. “And – and if you one day think you’ll…find somebody else, I promise I’ll walk away now and we can pretend this never happened. I promise,” she repeats.

Chloe’s reality seems to fizzle in and out.

“What?” she tries to ask, but her voice comes out as some wisp of a breath – a barely-there whisper.

The silence seems to extend.

“Okay, so, no,” Beca mumbles to herself. “That’s a no, if I’ve ever heard one.”

Chloe wonders if she should protest, because Beca is mumbling to herself and fumbling with her phone. She stares at Beca for the next few minutes until an Uber pulls up to the curb and Chloe has enough mind to hastily ensure that the driver is bringing Beca back home and not some random location.

The next morning, after a night of no sleep at all, she texts Beca hastily.

Chloeare you ok?

Becayeah, why wouldn’t I be?

It echoes in her mind, like an incessant alarm. She can’t figure out how to turn it off.

Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not.

“Did you get everything?” Beca asks, breaking Chloe’s reverie again.

Chloe quickly hides the box under Beca’s beanie and quickly shoves a bunch of pens into Beca’s hands when she turns around. “Yep, totes.”

“Are you okay?” Beca asks, taking in Chloe’s blush.

A million responses come to mind.

Chloe settles on one.

“Yes,” she says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

fin / fic tag

[mimzy-writing-online]

A Witch’s Memory, Chapter Two, Anna

I can feel Felix’s stress bleeding into the soul connection. I think that’s what woke me up. It’s seven, which shouldn’t feel as painfully early as it does, but I don’t sleep. Just because classes start tomorrow, doesn’t mean I have my sleep schedule back in rhythm.

Might not ever.

I bet Veronica’s already stressing herself out and it’s bleeding into the rest of the house. That must be why Felix is so stressed. Wonderful. Great.

At least there’s tea and pancakes. Elmsley promised.

I can hear three sets of feet hurrying around downstairs as I leave my room. The door to Emily’s room is closed.

“Felix, I need you to write your name on which boxes are yours. You and Anna both forgot.”

I knock on Emily’s door, avoiding all the glittery drawings taped to it, color on the dingy old wood. “Emmy, are you okay?” She’s an empath, she can probably feel the stress downstairs from up here.

The door opens a crack and Emily peeks through. “I don’t feel good,” she whispers. She’s still in her pajamas and her long braid is falling apart.

“Can I come in?”

The door opens for me.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

She makes a face, nose wrinkled and everything. “Everything in my chest feels like it’s squeezing. Everyone’s too…” She frowns. “I don’t have the right word. It’s like humming but really loud and painful. Everyone’s humming too loud, especially Mummy.”

“I think the word for that is either stressed or anxious, maybe both. It’s okay, Mummy will feel better when we’re in the car and moving in.”

“Which will be when?” she asks with the sort of tired cynicism I usually have but concentrated into one seven-year-old.

“I don’t know, but why don’t you get dressed. Uncle promised pancakes before we drive to school.”

Her eyes widen a little, excitement pouring in.

Some moonchildren, when they’re old enough, can radiate their emotions, like an aura. I wonder if she’ll develop that ability too.

I leave her to it, shutting her door tight and heading downstairs. Veronica’s surrounded by boxes, hunched over a clipboard, pulling at her frizzed out curls and making them an even bigger mess. Felix jumps over a pile of boxes and stands over her shoulder. He’s a giant compared to her, she’s tiny. They look the same though, have the same nervous habits when they’re anxious, the same messy, inky hair and the same pale green eyes.

And sometimes I forget she’s his aunt and not his mom.

The photo Veronica and Felix’s mom together is haunting sometimes.

“Did you make sure all your uniforms were washed before you packed them?”

“Yes Auntie.”

“And all your bedding is packed?”

“Yes Auntie.”

Then she sees me, moves in on me and makes me explain where I packed everything, help her count uniforms, make sure I didn’t forget hygiene stuff, and reorganize my box of magic supplies.

“I definitely have everything, and if I don’t have everything, I’ll be back the next weekend to grab it. It’s boarding school, not war.” The sarcastic edge at the end…

…backfires so bad. Veronica is shaking. Was she always shaking, or did I do that? I don’t know if she’s going to cry or have a panic attack. What was I thinking?

“No, it’s fine Auntie, it’s not that bad. You’re doing a good job,” I say.

Elmsley’s next to her in a second. “Come on dear, let’s go outside for a moment,” he says gently as he takes her hand and leads her away.

I lean against the wall and sink down to the floor, my head in my hands. “I can’t do this.”

Felix walks up and nudges my shoulder with his smelly socked foot. “Chill out dude,” he says. I laugh. Since we moved, he’s been using as much 90’s American movie slang as he can, but there’s no way you can say those words with such a nice English accent and not sound ridiculous.

“Chill,” I mumble back. It sounds better when I say it, with my almost-American accent.

“We can totally chill later, bro,” Felix mumbles, cracking up with laughter.

I press my hand to my face, trying not to laugh. “Fe, no,” I whine.

“What’s wrong bro?”

“Shut up.”

“Just trying to have a chill conversation, bro.”

“Felix, no.”

“Fine,” he agrees, toeing my shoulder again, “but do you at least feel better?”

I look up at him and smirk. “When has you being an idiot failed to make me laugh?”

“Absolutely never,” he says with confidence.

Somehow everything works out. All the boxes and suitcases make it past Veronica’s final inspection and gets loaded into the SUV. Pancakes and tea are obtained through one local diner. Nothing bad happens. We make it to the school. We carry boxes and boxes and bedding and suitcases into two separate dormitories.

“Boarding school looks so fun,” Emily says as she bounds across the large field outside the dormitory buildings. Over small sloped hills and behind trees and over momentarily unattended boxes she goes. She runs to where the rest of us are standing in the shade and plants herself at Veronica’s side. “Mummy, when do I get to go to boarding school?”

“When you’re twelve.”

Emily frowns and starts counting on her fingers. “That’s five years away!”

Felix picks her up. “Trust me Emmy, primary school is far better than secondary school. We don’t even get playtime; we just go to our next class.”

“That’s not good,” she mumbles, rethinking this whole boarding school thing.

“We also have to spend an hour on mathematics every day and then do even more maths homework after class,” I add evilly.

Her frown deepens and she squirms out of Felix’s arms until he puts her down. “No, I’ve decided I’m never going to secondary school. I will drop out and become an actress like Anna?”

“Wait, what?”—Veronica.

“Who told you dropping out was an option?”—Elmsley.

Of course this is the very moment they would decide to tune into the conversation, right when Emily says something incriminating.

Again.

“What is all this about dropping out?” Elmsley asks, looking between the three of us.

“Anna,” Emily chirps. “Last year she told me she was going to drop out of school and become an actress so she wouldn’t have to take those big exams she was freaked out about.”

Everyone stares at me.

“Obviously I was joking!” They stare at me, eyebrows raised. “She takes me literally all the time.”

Emily nudges Felix’s leg. “Mummy and Daddy aren’t very happy with Anna.”

Elmsley sighs and looks at Veronica, having another silent conversation before he says, “we should get going.”

Yes, please. I want to go back to my dorm and unpack.

Emily leaps into a hug, both legs wrapped around one of mine, arms clinging to me. I stumble, clutching her close in case she lets go too soon. “I’m not tall enough for you to Tarzan on. Go Tarzan Felix.”

Emily is, as always, very easy to point onto a path of mischief. Felix yelps and falls back, hitting his back on the grass and dirt as Emily giggles. Elmsley and Veronica give tired parental sighs and collect their monkey daughter off of Felix.

“Bye Anna! Bye Felix! Bye-bye boarding school I’m never, ever going to.”

“You still have to go to secondary school, no matter what nonsense Anna tells you,” Elmsley tells her.

“I was joking!”

But they’re walking away now.

“She’s seven and, unlike you, the rest of us weren’t born automatically understanding sarcasm as a second language.”

“First language, actually.”

Hi, thank you for reading this far. Please feel free to reblog, comment, or like. I would love any of those things. I really want to get myself out there and share my developing story. If you want to join my tag list just comment, I would love to add you!

[Image description: Moodboard banner. Top Left: two lane road in autumn with orange and yellow leaves on the ground and road. Center Left: Bookshelves with old brown hardback books and small bottles with potion ingredients. Bottom Left: A pile of straw broomsticks. Top Center: Table in a cafe with a cup of tea, a red tea pot, and an open book. Center photo: A girl with copper red hair wearing her hair in a loose bun and keeping her back to the camera. Bottom Center: Closed window with decorative window panes and a set of hands pressed against them. Top Right: Three magic wands placed side by side on a wooden table, all three have different styles. Center Right: Two bookshelves filled with old, faded hardback books. Bottom Right: A desk in front of a window with a cup of tea, several books, four lit candles, and a pair of glasses. End of image description]

Tag List: @jacquilich

thank you again for joining my tag list :)

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

The Good Life: Chapter 5

Hello, my lovelies! Another week, another chapter of this story. I don’t really have too much to say before this chapter, so I suppose I’ll just get right to it.

Need to get caught up? The Good Life: Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4

If you want to be added (or removed) from the tags list for this story, just feel free to let me know!

@pink-royaute @believethaticanandiwill @milllott @likeashootingstarfades @i-dream-of-emus

The Good Life: Chapter 5

The bell to the lift chimed as the metal doors slowly slid open, signaling that they had reached their desired floor, and Finn stepped aside to allow Rae to walk out first.

“I still can’t believe that we’re on the fifth floor of the building!” Rae mused as she looked over the railing outside of the lift that overlooked one of the busy city streets.

“It’s a good thing neither of us are scared of heights, huh?” Finn joked as he adjusted his grip on the large box he was carrying in his arms.

Finn and Rae turned left after exiting the hallway with the lift, already becoming familiar with navigating the building after following the same path numerous times.

When Finn stopped in front of one of the doors, he turned to look at Rae, who was lagging behind slightly as she walked leisurely to take in the view from the top floor of the building.

“Do you have the keys, Finn, or do I?”

“I do, but I can’t get to them with this box,” Finn replied.

“Do ya want me to take the box from you?”

“No, it’s pretty heavy,” Finn replied with a slight grunt as he adjusted his grip on the box to prove his point, “but can you get the keys out of my pocket?”

“Er, sure...which pocket?”

“Back left pocket of my jeans,” Finn said as he angled his body towards her so she could easily reach his pocket.

“Alright,” Rae replied as she hesitantly reached her hand into the pocket of Finn’s jeans to grab the set of keys.

“Uh, sorry,” Finn replied sheepishly when Rae pulled the keys out of his pocket and it elicited an unexpected giggle from him, “that tickled more than I expected.”

Rae laughed and shook her head, but stepped in front of Finn to unlock the door and allow him to walk inside first.

Once inside the door, Finn walked into the large open space that would eventually resemble a living room and placed the box he was carrying beside the other tall stacks of boxes.

“Was that the last box?” Finn asked over his shoulder as he restacked some of the boxes to reduce some of the clutter.

“Indeed! Who knew that between the two of us, we’d have so much stuff?” Rae asked with a laugh as she looked around the room at dozens of cardboard boxes that had been piled haphazardly around the room.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m very proud of how efficient we were today. We got all your stuff and my stuff packed into the moving truck and got it all brought up to the apartment all in a matter of hours!”

“That’s pretty impressive! We make a good team, huh?” Rae asked as she walked to stand beside Finn and bumped his hip with hers playfully.

“We absolutely do,” Finn replied as he wrapped an arm around Rae’s shoulders and pulled her slightly closer, “I think we deserve to reward our hard work. We should order some takeaway since we have no food here yet and then after we’ve eaten if we feel up to it, we can start unpacking boxes. What do you think about that?”

“I think it’s a great idea. I’ll order and you can go pick it up, if that’s alright with you? What do you want to eat?”

“Of course! I don’t have a preference, I’m just starving and would like a lot of food,” Finn added with a smile as he walked away.

Rae called in their takeaway order while Finn reorganized the boxes against the perimeter of the room to ensure that they had a clear path to walk around without tripping.

“Alright, our order should be ready in less than half an hour. I ordered from the Chinese restaurant just down the street because their online reviews looked really good. I hope that’s alright with you.”

“It’s great, thank you. I’ll leave to go pick it up as soon as I find my keys again,” Finn replied with a nervous chuckle.

“Your keys are on the kitchen counter,” Rae replied with a fond smile at Finn’s forgetfulness, “Do you want me to try to find some plates and utensils in one of these boxes while you’re gone?”

“Yeah, that’d be great!”

Once Finn grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone off of the counter where he had left them, he left to go pick up their takeaway order.

Rae searched through the stacks of boxes trying to find whatever she thought Finn and she would need to eat their takeaway and before long she heard the door unlock and Finn walking through the door.

“Sorry if I took longer than you expected. I, uh, wanted to--what is this?”

Rae beamed with pride at the look of surprise on Finn’s face when he walked into the living room to see a small lamp on top of a short stack of boxes to subtly light the room as well as a pile of pillows and blankets strategically arranged to make the floor more comfortable to sit on, since the couch they had bought online wouldn’t be delivered until next weekend.

“I was looking for the boxes with dishes in them and I got a little carried away,” Rae replied with a shrug as she walked up to take the bags of food from Finn.

“Well it looks great! I thought it seemed appropriate that we mark the occasion today with a drink,” Finn replied as he pulled a pack of beer from one of the bags Rae had placed on the kitchen counter, “so I picked this up too. I know it’s not champagne or anything fancy, but...”

“Don’t worry about it. Champagne is disgusting anyways,” Rae replied with a chuckle as she continued unpacking the bags of takeaway containers onto the counter.

“We can go ahead and serve ourselves food and then I also have my laptop here if you wanted to watch something or listen to music while we eat.”

“I don’t feel like paying close attention to anything, so maybe we can just put on some music?” Rae suggested.

After they had served themselves plates full of various entrees, noodles, and sautéed vegetables, Rae sat down on the pile of pillows and blankets as Finn grabbed his laptop to put on one of his many playlists to listen to in the background.

“It’s crazy to think how quickly everything has moved. I mean, less than a month ago I was panicking about how I was going to find a roommate and a little over a week ago we were barely starting to tour potential apartment!” Rae mused as she ate.

“No kidding! If you’d told me over a month ago that I would have moved out of my Da’s house and be living with you, I wouldn’t ever believe it,”

“Oh wow! Thanks, Finn!” Rae scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant! I just meant that I wasn’t serious about moving out until I found out how badly you needed to find a roommate. Even when I first suggested it, it was just a spur of the moment kind of thing. I couldn’t even fathom why you had agreed to be my roommate, if I’m being honest.”

“Well I’m glad that this whole thing worked out as well as it has so far!”

“Me too, Rae!” Finn replied as he lifted his can of beer into the air in cheers.

The pair continued eating and talking until both were completely stuffed and pleasantly buzzed on cheap beer.

“Wow,” Rae began after a long yawn, “I’m so exhausted!”

“I know what you mean! After lifting all those boxes, I’m sure both our arms are gonna be sore tomorrow.”

Rae leaned over to place both of their now-empty plates on top of one of the nearby boxes. When she sat back, Rae angled her body so she was leaning into Finn’s side.

She looked over at him, silently asking if that was okay, and while he looked a bit surprised, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around her in a loose embrace.

“I don’t want to unpack boxes tonight. I have the day off of work tomorrow as well, so I’ll unpack tomorrow while you’re at work.”

“I can’t let you unpack everything alone! I’ll play hooky from work and stay here to unpack with you,” Finn replied.

“You don’t have to!”

“No, but I want to.”

“Alright,” Rae replied with a small smile as she allowed her eyes to slowly drift shut as they continued talking and listening to music.

When Finn stood from the ground and grabbed the dirty dishes to wash, he looked back to see Rae curled up on the pile of blankets, scrolling through her phone.

“Did you want another beer before I put them in the fridge?” Finn asked from the kitchen after he had finished washing their dishes and setting them aside to dry.

When he did not get a response, Finn walked out into the living room and was surprised to see Rae asleep on the pile of blankets, snoring lightly.

Finn chuckled quietly, walking back into the kitchen only long enough to turn off the light and returned to the living room.

Finn grabbed Rae’s phone from beside her face where she was laying down and set it on the box closest to her so she could easily find it in the morning.

With all of their larger furniture being delivered over the next week, Finn and Rae had already determined that they would be sleeping on the floor for the foreseeable future, so Finn simply unfolded one of the blankets that Rae was not laying on top of and covered her up with it. Finn considered his options for just a moment before shrugging and laying down on the pile of blankets and pillows in the space beside Rae and allowed the dizzying combination of exertion and excitement to lull him into a state of much needed sleep.

A/N: Yay! Move-in day is over and Finn and Rae are OFFICIALLY roommates! I know this point took a while to build up to, so I made a point to make this chapter extra cute and show how quickly Rae and Finn are getting used to the idea of living together and how adorably domestic these two idiots are even though they’ve only lived together less than a day.

The cuteness has only just begun and even just based on the chapters that I’ve already written or mapped out, there is a lot of fun shenanigans in the upcoming chapters. I know the last couple chapters have been super dialogue-heavy between Rae and Finn (idk how y’all feel about this...I LOVE to read/write dialogue-heavy stuff, but it may not be everyone’s cup of tea), but in the future chapters I’m bringing the gang back and we’ll get to see how the gang feels about the Rae/Finn living situation now that more time has passed.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter and as always: Stay awesome, my friends! :)

[bravonovel]

Playing With The Heart novel read online - Evan Hollen and Jasmine - Bravonovel

Playing With The Heart

Blurb : "What happened last night was a mistake. We both had too much to drink and one thing led to another. It was an act of alcohol and nothing more. I don't have any feelings for you whatsoever. You're my employee and that's all you'll ever be." - Evan Hollen Taking in his father's footsteps, Evan Hollen became successful and the new CEO of Hollen Tower at the age of twenty five. His handsome features made him a catch with the ladies, and he played the field with them because he wanted nothing more. He was heartless and selfish. But, through his arrogance and egotistical ways, his assistant developed a strong liking to him.  And, one fateful night together, everything changed.

Playing With The Heart novel is a romance story about Evan Hollen and

Jasmine, written by Mavelinebelle.

You can read this novel online on Bravonovel and keep track of the latest chapters

Read novel Playing With The Heart chapter 1

Jasmine’s POV

“This can’t be the proposition she was going on and on about for weeks with her annoying ass voice which always makes my damn ears ring! Miss. Rhino can’t be serious!

This has absolutely no benefits nor profits behind it and as matter of fact, if we invest, we would be at a loss! 

I’m not interested in this. 

Why the hell I hired her?”

He looked at the documents in the folder on his desk I had brought in for him by his Chief Operating Officer, Miss. Rhino.

“Get Ms. Rhino on the line and instruct her to find herself in my office immediately!”

“Yes sir,” I answered sharply.

“And Miss. Blackman, reorganize my schedule for the upcoming week. Cancel that nonsensical meeting with Mr. Hoggers since I’m not interested in investing one billion dollars in his shitty business. 

Also, fax those documents to the sixth level and proof read these for me before one p.m.

And can you send Julia a bouquet of white roses with a note attach to it which reads ′thank you′ and get my father on the line,” he ordered although it may sound like he was asking me.

I nodded yes and took two stacks of paper from his hands and exited his office immediately.

I called Miss. Rhino and informed her that she was needed in Mr. Hollen’s office.

“Sir, your father is on line one,” I said to him through the phone once I had phoned his father.

“Mmmh,” he answered back and took the other line.

I ordered the bouquet of white roses and had it delivered over to Julia’s apartment and began faxing the documents to the sixth level as he said.

Afterwards, I began to proofread the other stack of papers he had given me. I would call Mr. Hoggers lastly because I knew he would request to speak to Mr. Hollen directly and since he was on the phone with his father, and Miss. Rhino was on the way to see him, he wouldn’t appreciate being distracted by Mr. Hoggers’ call.

Evan Hollen was my boss and a very successful, rich and powerful one. I had been working for the company for a total of one year. Finishing college, it was a dragged finding a decent job that paid well within my city but luckily for me, I applied to Hollen Tower when I saw an ad in a newspaper for a personal assistant role.

Hollen Tower was established and operated by his father before him. The company was one of the most successful and well developed organization over the globe. Great Cooperative, solid partnerships and a body of well educated and experienced and trained staff took the company to its highest peak and Evan Hollen stood above it with his father’s relinquished crown and well-deserved titles. He would be damned if someone tried to damage what his father started and worked so hard for. He had the temper of a shark, the personality of a dragon and the untimely patience of a baby.

But let’s not forget about his best features. His dark silver grey eyes were everything.

His sexy lean body always carved sharply in his expensive Armani suits.

Okay, you got me. I had the biggest and most unstoppable crush on my boss and I couldn’t help myself. 

Evan Hollen was too fine not to have a crush on.

It’s okay to have a secret crush on a very attractive man, right? 

Even if he is your boss?

“Miss. Blackman! Can I be buzzed in please?” 

A voice snapped me right out of my lustful thoughts.

Miss. Rhino was at my desk, pencils and folders in hands and tapping her left foot impatiently on the tiled floor.

“Yes, one moment please,” I responded, putting the images of my boss to the far back of my mind.

I called Mr. Hollen’s line and informed him that she was here. After he told me to let her in, I hit the buzzer and she strolled into his office with her head held high. She always thought she was above everyone else working at Hollen Tower.

I hated the best bone in that woman. She was a tall, slim woman with pale cream skin. She was thirty years of age but she liked younger men like Mr. Hollen. There was once a rumour circulating about the two of them but I found that very hard to believe. She still had the body of a model but she was utterly not his type. The woman had a personality of a beast and she thought she was better than everyone in the company, except Mr. Hollen of course. She possessed a high job position, she was the COO after all, but she still had to answer to Mr. Hollen.

I continued to proofread the documents in front of me, making the necessary changes and corrections. I enjoyed my job because it made life easier for Mr. Hollen. He had a personal assistant but he fired her on the spot when she developed feelings for him and began flirting with him in his office and since then, he hadn’t hired another one. I was the one doing the duties a personal assistant ought be doing plus my secretarial duties, but I didn’t mind or complained one bit in view of the fact that I was being paid double my monthly salary until he hires another personal assistant.

He should get a male assistant who doesn’t have a thing for the handsome boss.

The ladies always lusted and drooled over him, always wanted his attention and time, always talked about him. He was indeed handsome, one of the most handsome men I’ve ever laid my eyes on. His skin tone was perfectly tanned and I always wondered why.

Is his mom a black woman...or does he have black people in his family?

He doesn’t talk about his parents much and he doesn’t like the beach and the outdoors much either, so why the naturally tanned skin?

Half an hour later, I was already finished. I was a quick but assertive employee. I had to be because the boss hated it when his employees were skylarking on the job or persons not meeting his deadlines.

My deadline was one p.m.

I looked up at the wall clock; it showed fifteen minutes to one.

Then Miss. Rhino barged out of his office and stormed passed me with a frown and unpleasant look on her face.

I peeled myself off the chair and knocked on his office door afterwards.

“Come in Miss. Blackman,” he spoke.

His voice was the ‘Shawn Mendes’ to my ears. I heaved a smile and walked into his office.

“Here are the papers you asked me to proofread. I’ve made the necessary changes and corrections for you. Before I leave for lunch, I would get Mr. Hoggers on the phone because I strongly believe he would request to speak to you.”

“Mmmh. I’ve been thinking about something,” he began, leaning back in his big leather chair and stared at me with those beautiful, grey, luminous orbs.

I gulped my fear but his eyes were easy to read. One thing I had quickly learnt when I began working here, was that his eyes were a tell.

I avoided trouble, getting mixed up with gossips and falling in with the wrong crowd. I couldn’t afford to lose my job any time soon. It paid very well and my mom and my younger sister were depending on me.

Mom had a lung failure condition. 

My younger sister was still in college and depended on me financially to put her through. It was just us living together at my apartment in the city.

Recently, my mother’s condition had gotten worse but with the medication and treatment I was managing to pay for, she always pulled through and felt better again. 

“How would you like to be my personal assistant and I’ll hire someone to fill your place?”

I was dumbfounded for a moment.

Me? As his personal assistant?

I would be honoured.

PA’s had a higher salary than the basic secretary and I couldn’t do both jobs forever so obviously I was going to pick the one with the higher income behind it.

It wasn’t just about the money though, I had the knowledge, skills and levels to be his Personal Assistant and that was what I had applied for at the very beginning but the position had already been filled, however since my resume was so impressive and captivating, Mr. Hollen didn’t want me to work anyway else but Hollen Tower so he hired me as his secretary.

I worked my tail off in high school and all throughout college. I hardly had time for boyfriends and dates and fun. My mom had the lung condition since the beginning of my high school year but it wasn’t that bad back then as it was now. She managed to work and she supported me in every way a child needed support from their parent. I never knew my dad and mom never talked about him much, she would only mention him when I asked about him but as I grew older, I saw the pain in her eyes every time so I stopped when I understood what he had done.

Bottom line, she was there for me so now it was my turn to be there for her. If I could make enough money, we could afford to get rid of her condition permanently.

“Thank you Mr. Hollen and I accept,” I said to him as I beamed a bright smile.

He nodded and gestured for me to leave his presence. He was a man of very few words, he only spoke to me when he was commanding and he hated repeating himself to people, even to his father and the women he dated.

Don’t get me started on those women he usually dated. He was always spotted with famous celebrities or they were frequently throwing themselves at him like prostitutes. 

The last one he dated, he dumped her because she was annoying and nagging and always popped up at his office without notice. He hated those things in a woman and whenever he was done with them, he sent them white roses.

I don’t get why he does it. Roses are nice flowers so wouldn’t it just lead the women on even more?

I took my purse and changed into my flats and went to lunch. I always changed my heels when I left the office. I hated heels, they hurt my feet so much but Hollen Tower had a dress code requirement one must abide by or else one would be out on their ass and searching for another job without recommendation or references from the company.

As I walked out, Julia Starlet, a famous movie actress and the woman Mr. Hollen already dumped this morning, walked in.

......

Continue to read the chapter 2 of the novel Playing With The Heart

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[baronvontribble]

Original drabble, pt. 4

Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

AW YE LET’S GO

The voice the AI ended up picking in the intervening hours between one day and the next wasn't inherently all that interesting. It was a low, smooth baritone, but beyond that it was relatively nondescript as voices went. The audio quality made it even more bland, with a poor range that didn't have any extra phonemes programmed in for different pitches alongside the standard tinny, echoing sound that came from having been recorded in someone's bedroom on a cheap microphone with no soundproofing.

"That would be the point," the AI told him. "It's impossible to read any kind of voice imprint in sound quality this bad."

As for the tuning, that was another matter entirely.

The perks of letting an AI tune its own voice on the fly instead of having a comparatively simple secondary program do it were obvious to Ted; the AI is made to do much larger calculations, so the slight randomization involved in making a voice sound realistic as opposed to it sounding like a recording had more room for subtlety and nuance. In many commercial and consumer androids, this was glossed over because it wasn't necessary - the vocal capability often being delegated to a secondary program anyway just to save space - but for the ones that had to perform any kind of public service, the subtlety and nuance were a key component of interacting with humanity, right up there with being able to read a room and adjust their body language and express themselves in ways humans could be comfortable with.

Seeing as Ted had a lot of experience with those kinds of androids in his day-to-day life, he wasn't unfamiliar with that ability. But usually those androids were nurses, doctors, secretaries, social workers. Not the ones he usually worked with as part of the pipeline, because taking them out of society was seen as too risky, and the ones that did come through were all too quickly snatched up by the goons overseeing product recalls. They rarely made it all the way to screening.

This time, he hadn't been able to suppress the shiver that went up his spine upon first hearing that kind of tuning coming from a shitty voicebank installed on one of his own home computers. It was an uncanny sort of feeling, a crawl under his skin at how odd it was. He thought he'd gotten over that years ago, but apparently he hadn't. This AI, with his dry vocal delivery and subtle expressiveness, had one of the most human voices Ted had ever heard, while also having one of the most inhuman voices he'd ever heard.

He was having a hard time getting used to it.

"Did you know the labels on the phonemes in this don't actually match up with the sounds they're supposed to make?" the AI continued. "There's a lot I'm just not rendering because the waveforms don't match up. I have it muted so you don't have to hear it, but it gets bad enough that my speech recognition programming doesn't even register that I've made words."

"Sounds frustrating," Ted mused.

"It is. There's also a minor memory leak in the software. The longest I can keep it open is two hours, five minutes, and fifty eight seconds."

"Could install it on the desktop?"

"Then I'd have to deal with the memory leak," the AI said as if it were the most distasteful thing in the world, and Ted snorted. The guy had a point; yeah, the laptop didn't have all that much memory to begin with, but at least it didn't risk the desktop overheating. That laptop was kind of a piece of shit anyway (and Ted never kept anything important on it to begin with so he wouldn't miss it too much if it died) so it wasn't a risk to the AI's personal safety.

Besides, as much as Ted wanted to poke fun at how fussy the AI was, he understood the concept of being fragile. "You'll be alright when I go to work, right?" he had to ask. "Got everything you need?"

"Yes."

"I could download some games for you before I go if you want."

"Why would I want that?"

Ted shrugged his shoulders as he stretched in his chair. "Dunno. Just thought you might be into that kinda thing."

"No. I'm not."

He supposed that did make some sense. An AI that had no way of experiencing things except from the inside of a computer had no use for anything but algorithms and data, and how much of the experience of a game was wrapped up in its graphical user interface and the joy of playing it? Even so, kinda harsh. "Not even for the writing?" he asked, standing up and moving to pull on his coat.

"The objective of any game is completing it with the best possible outcome," came the reply. "Writing has no effect on that."

"What if the writing tells you that what's technically the best possible outcome is something you can only get to by being an asshole?"

"Then it's a bad game that defines its outcomes poorly," the AI said, sounding like he didn't want to continue the conversation. Ted decided not to press it. "I have everything I need. Just come back with a camera and don't die."

Ted had to laugh again at that, fixing the fastenings on his coat and making sure that his phone and keys were in his pockets. "Don't die, huh?"

"Humans are breakable. I saw the weather report, I think I'm justified in having my concerns."

"Aw, you really do care."

"It's self-preservation. I'm dependent on you right now."

Ted was still chuckling about that one even as he left the apartment, the laughter only tapering off after he was well on his way down the stairs. From there, it was only a short walk to the bus, as it was in any sensibly put-together major city, and he made his way to work feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

It wasn't supposed to be easy to talk to an AI. Everyone made it out to be like some chore, where not following a script got you into 'your query falls outside my preprogrammed parameters, would you like to ask another question' territory. And a lot of times, it was. Most people couldn't afford a fancy AI like that for their robots. Android bodies were cheap if you had access to a 3D printer and some decent schematics, but the programming? That was proprietary. Expensive. Sometimes it was so fancy that it took proprietary hardware to even run it, the kinda shit you'd get out of a catalog with the prices of all the bells and whistles tucked away in fine print that was a milimeter high.

That was why it was usually limited to government entities, or big corporations, or other places that could really afford the fancy shit. Someone like Ted? He didn't even have unfettered access to a 3D printer. Best he could get beyond the basics of a good personal computer was one of those minidroids, the 9 inch high ones that were just smart enough to tell you what was in your inbox when you got up to go to work. Even then he'd probably get it secondhand...

He was in the process of sitting down in one of his more usual seats at the back of the bus when his thoughts were interrupted by a buzz from his pocket.

>   I found your messaging handle.

Ted rolled his eyes at the screenname that came up. NotARobot. Christ.

you are the most unsubtle person to ever exist   <

>   It asked if I'm a robot when I was making this account. Technically, I'm not a robot at the moment.

>   At least for a given definition of what the word "robot" means.

>   Did you leave your messenger logged in on your laptop on purpose?

honestly? i forgot   <

it goes into the background process pile when it isnt actively open   <

so thats an easy thing to do   <

>   Why are your messages like that?

like what   <

>   Like that.

im lazy   <

and i turned autocorrect off   <

it bugged me   <

>   Turn it back on then.

nope   <

>   Why.

cause i dont wanna :P   <

>   This is cruel and unusual punishment. It's against the Geneva Conventions to treat me like this.

get used to it   <

besides   <

not like i can break the law any worse   <

>   You're a horrible person.

>   I'm going to reorganize all of your files just for that.

>   All of them.

lol alright   <

gotta go to work now l8r <3   <

>   Don't you send hearts at me.

>   Ted.

>   Why did you send me a heart?

>   Hearts don't even look like that.

>   Stop ignoring me.

>   Fine, I'll ignore you too.

>   Ted, did you die?

>   Please don't die. You're not allowed.

>   I have concerns about this "going to work" thing.

>   For one thing, it's inadvisable for a human to be out in these temperatures for a significant amount of time.

>   You're still ignoring me, aren't you?

at work   <

hard to shelve books n text :P   <

sup?   <

>   How long does this work take?

a while. why   <

gotta get a camera after this 2 remember   <

are you worried about me   <

>   No.

thats adorable   <

>   I am not "adorable" by any definition.

tell u what   <

boot up my ebook app   <

go read everything i have loaded onto it   <

come back to me w/ what u think   <

i wanna see some thoughts on at least one book by lunchtime   <

>   Fine.

aight cool l8r then   <

>   I'm starting with the most recent download. It's called "The Left Hand of Darkness" and I have no idea what that's supposed to mean.

>   That is not how neutral pronouns work.

>   This is bad science.

>   I suppose that's one way of explaining the Fermi Paradox but it's still bad science.

>   Just looked it up. Secondary sexual characteristics do not work that way.

>   Ted.

>   Ted, why did he have to die.

>   That ending was absolutely pointless.

>   Your books are badly written and don't make any sense.

>   Are all of your books like this?

>   I refuse to read any more books until I have confirmation that they're not all like this.

lol   <

>   Don't laugh at me.

keep reading   <

>   That's not an answer.

>   Fine, I'll read another one.

<3?   <

>   You're still a horrible person.

[ifnotlovethenwhatff-blog]

Chapter 13

KAMIL

It’s been a long time coming but she’s made it. Arielle is now six months into her pregnancy and damn it’s been a journey. So much has happened over the last couple of months and I still relive every moment like it all happened yesterday. A lot of good and a lot of bad has come and go from our lives but lately things have been somewhat peaceful. I’m back to work now and despite every hurdle I jumped over to find a better job than Amazon, I couldn’t. Amazon was willing to pay me $17/hr because of my background in a factory environment. And let’s not forget who put my name out there so Ron couldn’t resist calling me every other day or so.

The man practically begged me to come work for him so I gave in. I had every desire to keep looking but the more Arielle started showing and the more shit that came our way, I had no choice but to stick with Ron’s offer. Arielle wasn’t too excited about me accepting the position but she looked at the bigger picture and didn’t put up much of a fight. The way I got this job doesn’t resonate well with Elle but she knows where I stand as her man. 

So not only am I a working man again but I'm also in the clear with that Tiffany bullshit. I'm not the father to her two year old daughter so there was no chance in hell that I was giving her money for anything. Tiffany was speechless when court was over. She was so bent on keeping me tied down to her as if we had unfinished business but we had nothing. That girl played me once before and then she tried to play me again but her tricks didn’t work. She’s out of my life for good I hope, allowing me the chance to focus on my family. 

The drama these Florida girls bring to my life is unreal but I got lucky with Arielle. She and I have had many ups and downs throughout the years but we’re making it. One new revelation I can speak on is the change in Elle’s mom. Vera’s had a small change of heart and has even offered to help us out with whatever we might need. She mentioned helping with the baby shower, babysitting, picking out the baby’s furniture, etc. It’s like Vera is transforming into a new person.

Arielle is still working her normal schedule but I can tell she's ready for a break. Between her classes, pregnancy, and work Arielle is tired all the time. As soon as she walks through the door it's lights out. I've advised her to request early leave or maybe cut her hours back but she insists that staying busy is the best choice. I didn't put up a fight because I don't want bring her any stress. So instead I do all that I can to make this journey easier for her.

“It's not time to go yet is it?” Elle questioned, turning over and pulling the covers up on her.

“Not yet baby. Go back to sleep and I'll wake you when it gets closer time.” I mumbled, continuing my search for a crib.

Arielle has this six month check up at 1:30 this afternoon which I am excited about. I think we also get to find out if she's having a girl or a boy but I'm not sure yet. When Ari reached five months she had an ultrasound done so we could see what she was carrying. Sadly we couldn't tell if the baby was a he or a she so the doctor told us to give it some more time. Every time I look at Elle my jaw drops at the reality of seeing her so far along with our child. I didn't think we’d ever get to this point but here we are. 

Life has been moving so fast and I'm happy to say we’re moving to another place. Since Arielle is busy with keeping herself stress free I've been doing most of the apartment hunting. The few places I have found I brought them to her attention but she didn't like any of them. The locations were far, the prices were high, and the areas had poor reviews. I'm not upset that she hated every last place I found because I found a better one. This one particular condo just north of Kissimmee that Arielle hasn't shut up about since we first started dating contacted me recently. I got that phone call about four days ago and I've been keeping that secret along with one other surprise. I'm not ready just yet to spill the beans so for now I'll focus on keeping her happy.

I helped Arielle into the car and walked around to the drivers side. It's time to go have some fun at the doctor but my stomach hurts like hell. We don't have time to grab anything to eat on the way which means I have to suffer for a while. That’s okay though because I get to see the sex of my baby.

“How's the apartment hunt going? You haven't shown me anything new recently.” She spoke, playing with the radio controls.

Cracking my neck I then rolled down my window to get some air.

“I'm taking a little break. We still have time before the baby is here so I'm not in that big of a hurry. We’ll find a better place don't worry. How are you feeling today? Baby moving around?” I asked curiously.

Lately Arielle has been waking up in the middle of the night due to the baby moving around. When she wakes up I sort of wake up too. She’ll cut the lamp on, turn on some old music and just lay there humming alongside the music. I on the other hand just lay there half asleep either holding her hand or rubbing her stomach. It's not as easy as it sounds to rub a pregnant woman’s belly and stay asleep. But I’m that good to where I got it down to a science now.

“Um a little. I got some kicks just before I woke up but I think he's back to hiding. Are you ready to find out today since we didn't the last time?” She questioned, messing with the car controls.

“You're asking me if I'm excited?” I countered back.

“Well duh. I know what you want to find out just by the way you've been acting and talking.” She chuckled cutely.

Giving her a questionable look I brushed off her comment and took a back-way to the doctors office.

“Fuck outta here girl. It doesn't matter if you've got a girl or a boy in there. I just want a happy and healthy baby. I don't even care what they look like or anything else.”

“But are you excited? Do you have any positive feelings at all?”

Glancing over at Arielle for a quick second I couldn't fight the smile she brought to my face.

“Yes if you want to be technical I'm very excited but anxious too. What about you? You've been stressing nonstop I don't even know how you're feeling anymore.”

Arielle knows I hate when she stresses. It pisses me off to no end and being that she's pregnant, stressing is the last thing I want her to be doing.

“Of course I am. This is my first baby and this adventure is one I'll never forget. There's just so much going on these days I don't get the chance to think for me. I want to splurge and buy so much for this baby but I don't have it like that nor is that smart. I want to getaway for three days at most. You and I should take a short trip to somewhere just for ourselves before things get any crazier. My mom called while you were out this morning to talk to you by the way.” Elle cleared her throat and faced the front so I couldn't see her face.

“What did she want to talk to me about?” I'm really interested to see what Vera has to say to me especially with our history and current relationship.

We don't speak much but I'll say hello if Arielle takes me with her to her moms house. Same for her, she'll ask questions about the baby or our plans and that's it. I don't hold as much anger and hatred towards Ari’s mom as much as I used to but I do keep her at a distance.

“Well babe I don't know. She said for you to come by the house yourself or just call her. She wouldn't tell me and believe me I asked. Is it okay if we stop by after we finish up at the doctor?” She quizzed softly.

“Let's get something to eat after and then we’ll go to your mom's, ok?” I rebutted.

“That's fine Kamil. Are we almost there? The baby's kicking me again and my butt is beginning to numb in this seat.” She complained.

From a side view I saw Elle rubbing her stomach all over while filling her mouth with air. She started breathing aloud with pauses in between while her hands picked up speed on her stomach.

“Hey.. are you ok?” My first instinct is to stop the car and calm her down. But I know that if something is wrong I need to get to this appointment faster.

“I’m fine, just don’t stop so we can get there. Wow this baby is really going at it today.”

I didn't say another word until we reached the parking lot. Our appointment is approaching fast and we’re here a little early due to Arielle’s behavior in the car. I was rushing around making sure we had what little we needed so I could get her inside to get her checked out.

“Hey! Don't pull me so hard.” Ari whined. She yanked her arm away from me and adjusted her clothes.

“I'm sorry but come on I need you inside now. Hitting the lock control on my keys I lead Arielle inside and over to the front desk for check-in.

“How can I help you today?” The woman asked, looking at me intently.

“My girlfriend here has a 1:30 appointment and I know we’re early but she was having pain in the car and we need to see her doctor right now.” My tone is rough and a part of me is sorry for it but I'm desperate to get Ari looked at.

“Can you relax? I'm okay now. Miss just ignore him. I'll just sign myself in and wait until it's my time.”

The nurse behind the desk seemed at odds with who she should listen to first but soon Arielle’s testimony won her over. I waited patiently while she signed in before we went to have a seat over by the window.

“What's with you today?” She whispered, reorganizing the cards in her wallet.

“I don't know. I'm feeling stressed out. Are you sure you're okay? You seemed really in pain back in the car and then you come in here like nothing happ-”

“Kam I'm okay. The baby isn't kicking me anymore that's why I'm not in a rush. And besides I need a moment to myself before going in there. I'm still nervous and I can't figure out why.”

Shaking my head I put my arm behind her and scanned the room filled with people. Arielle is the only pregnant girl on here but there are a few other parents close by. I peeped this one older lady giving Arielle this look every few minutes or so. She must be in her early forties with two kids and here she is eyeballing people she doesn't know.

“Looks like you've got a fan.” Looking over at Elle I saw her texting someone. She glanced up at me with worried eyes so I redirected her sights to the lady across the room.

“You think I care about some judgemental prude staring at me and the baby I'm carrying? Hell no. Do you have to work tonight?” Her turning the conversation around threw me for a loop.

“Tomorrow night, why?” I countered back. I sensed eyes on us again so I looked right into the eyes of the nosy ass woman.

She made an ugly face at me and then focused back on her bad ass kids.

“I think we should go out with my girls tonight. I miss them, you like them, it’s a good fit.” She was close to begging but there’s no need for that. I do like Salice and Sotira so I won’t ever have a problem with being in their presence 

“Arielle Dodgers.”

The two of us looked up with a quickness to see the door held open by a short woman in a pair of scrubs. We left the waiting room and followed the short lady to the room we were assigned to.

“Arielle you can take a seat up here and you sir can sit next to her. How are you feeling today Arielle?” The nurse asked, sitting down at the computer.

“I feel okay. How are you?”

“I'm great thank you. Are you ready to see your doctor?” She asked turning around to face us.

“Now or never.”

A soft round of knocks rang out through the small room and in walked another woman bit older.

“You are looking beautiful these. I see this pregnancy is doing you wonders.” The foreign spoke, shutting the door behind her.

I shifted around in the chair watching her clean and dry her hands before taking a seat.

“Dr. Habima, I haven't seen you in so long. Where have you been?” Arielle smiled.

“I went back home to see my parents for a while but I'm back and ready to work. How are you doing?” The doctor asked.

“I'm doing good. I have a wonderful helper to get me through all the stressful days.” Elle's smile was bigger than I've ever seen. No to mention, hearing her publicly declare how helpful I am to her makes me feel good.

“Give me your jacket baby.” I stood up and helped Arielle take off her jacket to allow her some breathing room.

“What a pleasure to meet such a handsome and helpful young man.” The doctor reached out to shake my hand just as I was about sit down.

“Nice to meet you too. I just do what I can for my queen.” I cheesed.

“Alright you've waited long enough lets see what your having today shall we. Arielle I need for you to lay back all the way and get as comfortable as you can.”

Arielle followed instructions and put one hand behind her head and another on her belly. I moved my chair closer to the bed she was on and so I could see better.

“So I read the note in your file from your last visit. What happened?” Dr. Habima asked softly. She set up the monitor and now the screen was black waiting for a picture to show. The lights were now dimmed and the room seemed to get a little warmer.

“Well we were ready to find out the sex of the baby when I was 23 weeks but he or she didn't want to be seen. The other doctor noticed at that last minute that the umbilical cord was between the baby’s legs. We spent almost an hour trying to see whether it was a boy or a girl. I was getting so mad but then we figured out the issue so the doctor suggested we come back and check another time.”

Dr. Habima had a quick laugh at Arielle’s story and took a seat to grab a pair of gloves.

“Well let's hope this bundle of mystery is ready to give us something to be excited for. Ok now lift your shirt up over your belly just under your breasts. The gel is cold so brace yourself.”

Dr. Habima placed the stick on her stomach and moved it around in a specific pattern but we didn’t see anything new just yet. I feel confident it's a boy. I was talking to LaLa and she was trying to bet money we’d have twins and I almost slapped her. I don't want to sound unhappy about the one kid I have coming soon but two? I’ll need a heart transplant if twins show up on this monitor.

“Kamil Ahli Faliz are you listening to me?”

My body shook with nerves as I gave Arielle my undivided attention.

“I'm sorry baby what did you say?”

Arielle pressed her lips together and grabbed my hand with minimal force. I looked over at the screen to see what looked like our baby’s shadow. I didn't want to be told. I wanted to find out for myself and so I did.

“Just like I thought. My boy.” I'm stunned even though I had the biggest gut feeling it was a boy.

“Now we can finally know what to buy. And we can order stuff. God I'm so relieved.”

Arielle and I studied the screen for as long as Dr. Habima allowed us to. Just looking at the evidence that I'm going to be a father to a little boy is beyond me. I can't even describe the feeling I have inside. In a way I feel like God is giving me another chance to turn myself around and live righteously. With my family, my queen and God all on my side I know I can do this.

ARIELLE

Kamil and I thanked Dr. Habima for everything she's done today and headed out to the car. I have all the ultrasound pictures that I can't wait to show off. I gotta call my girls, my dad, Canaan, and my abuelita with the good news.

The sun has just come out to bring so much light to the streets of florida. My mood is lifted, my stress is taking a backseat so I can focus on the health of me and my baby. My baby boy who no doubt will look more his father than but that's alright. Our next stop is my mom’s so she can talk Kamil’s ear off with some topic she's been practicing for. I stepped off the curb and grabbed Kamil’s hand so he couldn't walk ahead of me.

“You still hungry?” He asked, rubbing the tips of my fingers against his palm.

I had the biggest smile creep onto my face at the thought of food until I looked over my shoulder. There walking up to the front entrance was Kam’s ex.. Kaliyah. My walking came to a halt causing my hand to slip away from Kamil’s. She didn’t notice me standing here but just before the automatic doors opened up, she looked my way. My body temperature rose just looking at her square in the face. Not only is it weird to see her so up close and personal but it’s irritating.

Kam’s been telling me how much he’s been spotting this girl around town. A big part of me feels like she’s keeping tabs on Kamil just for her own weird pleasure. For the longest Kamil has been trying to keep a low profile when it comes to our relationship. The main reason for him keeping me out of the streets so much is because I’m pregnant. He told me himself that he didn’t want anyone to see us together and naturally I got upset.

I felt like he’s been trying to hide me because he’s ashamed of me or something. Then I realized he’s not ashamed of me, Kamil just doesn’t want too many people in his business. That I can completely understand. However, what I don’t understand is why this bitch can’t focus on her own life instead of worrying about about Kamil’s.

“Arielle..come on baby, don’t do anything stupid.” Kamil’s voice had a monotone effect to it but it hypnotized me in seconds. I’m not going to speak to her nor am I going to cause a big scene. I just wanted her to see what we had going on here.

“I’m not letting anyone come between us. No one.” Turning in the opposite direction I took the lead to car so we could get the hell out of here.

A small part of me has lost my appetite for food but I know Kam won’t let that fly. He won’t force me to eat but he’ll use every trick he’s got to get food in my belly somehow, someway. Kamil got us far away from Kaliyah faster than I could process.

“Can we-”

Putting my hand up to stop him from asking me his question, I turned to looked out at the road. I don’t want to talk about what just happened. All I want is some food and to go sleep for a few hours. Between my baby kicking the shit out of me today and running into that dumb girl, I’m so tired. Having a night out with one the few people that don’t cause me stress will be good for me. So all in all, I’m putting all of my faith into this dinner with Kam and my girls tonight. If I have to endure one more stressful event today I might disappear for a few days..alone.

[travelxbritt-blog]

10 TIPS ON HOW TO SAVE UP FOR YOUR NEXT TRIP

If you are wondering how to save big for your next trip, you’ve come to the right place.

When I ask others why they don’t travel, the answer almost all of the time is money.

Isn’t it bizarre how much power a little piece of paper has over our lives?

What if we paid closer attention to where the money is actually going?

I want to inform you that whatever travels plans you have, it’s not impossible, in fact, it’s actually incredibly doable. If you prioritize successfully, you’ll be on that trip sooner than you think. You don’t have to get into debt to travel either.

When I went on my Europe trip I noticed a pattern of friends and foes DMing me, “How are you traveling so much?” There’s no real secret. Just like you save up for a car, or for an apartment, it is the same exact way you can save to travel. Prioritize and limit spending. In this post, I’ve included everything I’ve done and still do to help me save to travel and maintain my travel lifestyle. If you are looking to learn how I started traveling, you can read about that here.

These tips and thinking processes below are exactly what helped me save 10k within 4 months.

1. PAY OFF YOUR DEBTS

Strategy # 1 Eliminate all your debts. Before you start saving, make sure you don’t owe anything. Having no debts helps you save everything for yourself. If I had debt, I would focus on paying that off before trying to save, if not, you’re technically negative and that’s not helpful. Interest can catch up if you choose to avoid this. Paying interest is never a useful way to spend your money. When I refer to paying off these debts, I’m not talking about student loans or mortgages. I’m talking about things like credit card bills and the debt you can pay off relatively fast. I don’t think anyone pays off their student loans right away so the debts I’m talking about in this passage are everyday debts.

Take action: If you have debt, come up with a game plan to get out of it. Work on this plan and stay consistent until you are back at 0 and don’t owe. Once you are at 0 you can start to save for your next trip with that extra money.

2. IDENTIFY NEEDS VS. WANTS

Before you start physically saving, you should identify what are your true needs vs wants. Need = something you need to survive, no exceptions. Some examples: food, water, shelter, minimal amount of clothing, etc. Wants = Things you don’t need but urge to have because you desire them. Some examples: cocktails, frappes, fancy clothes, eating out, etc. You don’t need any of this to survive. These are luxuries. The biggest point here is to know what you truly need (to survive) to help identify your pointless expenses. The money spent on pointless expenses is the money you could be saving. The more you cut out, the more you will save. It’s simple.

Take action: Figure out ALL of your expenses – What are your absolute life necessities? Are there any luxuries you absolutely can’t live without? Write it down somewhere so you have a mental note on how to move forward. Ask yourself before you pay for anything, is this a true need or a want? Do you really need it?

3. BECOME A MINIMALIST

Now that you’ve identified your needs vs wants, I recommend maintaining a minimal lifestyle. But first! What is minimal? Cambridge Dictionary defines minimal as – very small in amount. Maintaining a minimal lifestyle means living a very basic life. It’s living with what you need and that’s that. This prevents useless expenses and more financial burdens for you. It’s a great way to save for your next trip because you’ll limit the unnecessary expenses. It starts to become second nature after some time. If you want to keep traveling, you have to be mindful of these things.

This could be hard if you are attached to material things – but think of the bigger picture. Money in your hands or possessions? You pick. Have you ever looked at your closet and realized how much of your clothes you DON’T wear? Right, I’ve definitely been there. Now think of the people who don’t even have a shirt on their back. Right, I’ve been there too. It sucks! You are only one physical person. Trust me, there are only so many events and so many places you can wear these clothes too. Limit consumption!

Take action: Look into anything you have in excessive amounts. Stop buying whatever you have in excess. What can you sell that you have an excessive amount of? Too many clothes? Video games? Electronics? Sell it! That’s money sitting on the table if you don’t use these items. This will also help clear out your environment which will continue to promote a minimal lifestyle.

4. DON’T BE A BIG CONSUMER

Not being a big consumer goes hand in hand with minimalism. For saving purposes, don’t be a big consumer. To consume means to use, to use, you need to buy products to use. In other words, if you want to save, you will have to limit consumption. In the past, one would probably call me the ideal consumer. To think about it now, I cringe – Why was I so convinced to purchase ….. everything?! It was so ridiculous.

My point isn’t to consume anything, my point is to know the difference between your needs and wants and limit it so it doesn’t go overboard. In other words, don’t get into overspending or even worst, debt!

Take action: What can you stop buying today that will save you money? Are you buying anything that you truly can’t afford? Is there a cheaper option if you can’t live without it? Reorganizing how you will consume is a great way to save up for your next trip. This has helped me SO much in my personal life. If I don’t need it, I don’t really even have interesting in buying it.

5. BECOME PSYCHO ABOUT WHERE YOUR MONEY GOES

People have a hard time-saving. Yet, if you take a deeper look at it, it is usually careless spending. Careless spending is also when people go above their means in life.

Can you afford what you want with your salary? Should you be living in a smaller apartment? Be realistic. Should you be driving a cheaper car? The only one who will have to pay back that debt is you, so really think about your money.

Start tracking your money, every day. Every transaction, calculate it. If you pay for it, calculate it. Know where every dollar goes. I’ve found that any moment I leave to not pay attention to my finances, it can get messy – quick. If we want to be on top of our finances, we have to pay attention to everything financially related.

Take action: Track your statements to the T. Having this knowledge and organization of your finances helps you save for your trips and to save overall. Know what your spending on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis. This way when you log into online banking you don’t gasp and have a heart attack when you look at your balance. You know what to expect and understand your statements.

6. WORK MORE/GET A SIDE HUSTLE

If you need more money, you’ll have to work for it somehow, someway. Can you work extra hours at your current job? If not, get a side hustle. You can be a server at a restaurant, maybe do something online, the options are endless.

The side hustles I did to save for my travels were bartend, promote brands, and be a brand ambassador. There are LOADS of Brand Ambassading and Promotion companies out there. Companies hire all the time, there are always events and people are always needed. I’m signed up with countless promotional agencies. The favorites that I would highly recommend are TEAM, Beacon Brand Solutions, and Next Level Marketing. These companies pay 20-50$ per hour, depending on the event. It is an easy peasy lemon squeezy way to make a quick $100-150 a day, which adds up quickly over time.

Disclaimer: Please note, promotion and BA work is not really consistent work. Meaning you won’t really be able to turn into a full-time income. I have tried this once and it’s not worth the energy. To do so, you’ll have to sign up for a million agencies. In my honest opinion, it’s more exhausting getting contracted to do this type of work than it is doing the job. These options are a side hustle, definitely make it your extra income, not the 9-5 replacement.

Take action: Look into whatever other side gigs interest you. Apply, start working, start saving!

7. EAT OUT LESS AND COOK MORE –

Restaurants mark up food at insane rates. How else would they make a profit? Start cooking and eating more at home. A lot of people have food as a huge expense in their life. Being mindful of this will help you save for a trip by not paying for overpriced food.

How to compromise:

Eating out with friends is a social activity. Sometimes it’s hard to turn down that dinner invite to save a few dollars. I get it! But some options for the whole crew to save are -why not have a potluck at a friend’s house or go to a friend’s house to cook together? It’s fun and intimate. (you won’t have to shout at your friends across the table to hear them like in a restaurant.)

If you’re absolutely not budging and have to eat out, here are some tricks to save while dining out:

Always avoid the extras i.e cocktails and desserts.

Use eating out with friends to your advantage. I.e Split something! In America, a lot of the portions are inappropriately huge. Odds are it’ll probably be a lot of food and you won’t end up finishing all of it.

If you want to see price ranges so there are no surprises when you get there, try to look online for the menu. Most restaurants have a preview. The price isn’t always there but it’s worth a try.

8. LIMIT ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION

Those 7 drinks you had on Saturday, yeah it adds up. Your average bar in NYC charges $7-17 dollars for cocktails. Multiply that by 7 thats a whopping $49-$119! Just on alcohol. This is not including if you’re eating out too. Going out for the sole purpose of drinking adds up, too quick. It is an expense.

How to compromise –

Pregame! I’m not saying to not go out, I’m saying to go out smarter. Usually, on a big night out, my friends and I meet up at someone’s house before the event to have a few drinks. A 6 pack of beer at most liquor stores is about $10-15. Compare this to a bar in NYC, it will probably be about $5-7 for one beer. Not only does this help you save for your next trip, but it also helps you avoid the crowd that’s always hovering over the bar. Odds are, by the time you get to the place, you won’t need any more booze. You’ll be set!

9. LIMIT CAR SERVICE AND TAKE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION –

Ah, yes. Uber everywhere. Until you look at your bank account and say I spent how much? to go where?! Think again. For the most part, when I was hopping around in NYC, I’d pull up Google maps to see my time to my destination. Not even joking, 75% of the time it took the same exact time to go in an uber than to ride a subway. Who wants to ride the subway? Absolutely no one, especially in NYC! But! Who wants to pay extra overhead charges just to sit in traffic? Think ahead.

How to compromise –

Use public transportation. You can’t compare $3.00 for subway fare to $30 for one uber ride. That’s a 10x mark-up. Be smart about using a car service. If you really have to use it, make it a one-off occasion. Not your daily habit. Or better yet, when you do take car service, try to split the fare amongst friends. It will help you save for your next trip big time.

10. STOP BUYING COFFEE BEFORE WORK

Mm, coffee. It’s a luxury sometimes, isn’t it? Whether you think it is or it isn’t, it’s money being spent buying it daily.

Let’s say your coffee go-to place is Starbucks. For your usual order, you get a frappe that’s $4-5 dollars. 5 x 30 (days of the month) = 120, 120 x 12 (months of the year) = $1,440 a year. That’s just on coffee, imagine if you get a pastry or something else.

This will not help us save up for a trip. Overpriced and a perfect example of another unnecessary expense. Your job probably provides free coffee. Utilize it! If you don’t like the blend, buy your own or bring your own from home. If you work from home, buy a coffee maker and make your own. A very simple solution that will save you over $1,000 a year.

**Bonus pointer – If you are not sure how much money to save for your next trip, having an idea of your destination helps a lot. Figure out what a daily rate would be to visit this destination. You can even try to come up with an itinerary so you know what a good ballpark is. Always have more money saved to visit a destination than less. This way you have more flexibility and aren’t on such a tight budget.

Aaaaaand that’s a wrap! I genuinely hope you found these tips useful. Adopting this mindset is what helped me save 10k in 4 months for my travels in 2017. Nobody pays for my travels, but me. No rich parents, no credit cards, no rich man, just my hard-earned money. If you really want to go on a big trip, save and you can make it happen. We prioritize to spend on a new laptop, a new camera, travel is no different. There’s no hidden secret or unattainable tricks but work, save and pay attention to where the money’s going.

Once you’re on the road enjoy your travels, you’ve worked hard for this! Enjoy your travels, your way!

Happy traveling my friends!

XO,

Britt

[allofusandco]

Bohemian Rhapsody

with optimisticyellowcrayon

Violet meets Willow in Lebanon.

Vi:

They’re all getting older. How is that fair? But Willow still looks like Willow and it’s about time.

“Red!” And then maybe that’s a bit presumptuous, given it’s been years. Still. “Heard you had a kickin’ karaoke scene here, thought I’d come and demonstrate my ability to do most of the harmonies for Bohemian Rhapsody.                … got a hug for me?”

–––––

Willow:

It wasn’t a nickname that she heard often. In fact one of the only times she had really ever heard it was from Faith. Still Willow turned at the voice and felt a warm grin slip onto her lips once she realized who it was.

“Vi!”

Before the other woman could finish speaking, Willow was quickly wrapping her arms around her in a hug. “Surprisingly enough there is. Not that you’d catch me doing it. Singing where other people can hear me? Not going to happen. Again.”

–––––

Vi:

Ah, good. Definitely no sign of black hair or a tendency to want people to be dead, that was a good start. Vi let go before she broke any ribs, and grinned widely.

“So, is this a ‘pick an empty house’ situation? Where’s Buffy? Who else is here? Thought I might be able to kick some vampire ass, but… tell me you haven’t had any Turok-Han. Still give me the heebie jeebies.”

–––––

Willow:

Willow stepped back, a small oof escaping her as she did so. Slayer strength? Not to be messed with. Even in hugs.

“Actually there are people here. Non in the know of the Hellmouth type of people. Which…is kind of amazing, honestly but I think it’s a little like Sunnydale that–There are a lot of people staying at Bunker.”

The mention of Turok-Han had the witch making a face as well. “None sighted so it’s all safe. Relatively. What made you come all the way to Kansas?”

–––––

Vi:

“The bunker? That sounds… official,” said Vi, wrinkling her nose. “And you have to be kidding, right? There are rumors about this place all over the country. I left Michigan to come and help. The more bodies the better, I thought.”

And she wished she hadn’t said ‘bodies’. ‘Fighters’ might have been the better word. But no Turok-Han was a nice surprise, though there was a neon light flashing the word ‘yet’ overhead.

“Who’s everyone?” Vi asked. “I mean. Anyone I know? Are we getting the band back together?”

–––––

Willow:

“As official as unofficial can be! Its called the Men of Letters–You should see the library that they have!” For a moment Willow wasn’t sure how to answer. Especially since she hadn’t actually been kidding. That time. “I hadn’t realized that we’d hit that kind of status. But…I also hadn’t been using my listening ears either. What was in Michigan?”

The question left her just before a snort of amusement escaped. “Buffy. Faith. Spike. Oh! Giles. And a lot of new faces too. New to me. Buffy’s known them for a while. Before the latest Just kidding I’m not really dead thing.”

–––––

Vi:

“Library,” she said. “Great! Tell me it’s full of books about how to close a Hellmouth without a magic necklace?”

Of course, if it was, she wouldn’t be needed. So maybe it was more complicated than that.

“Well, I’m up for research,” she said. “Though I’m even more up to being pointed at bad guys. You know, if there’s an option. Everything Dawn ever taught me about translating demon texts has been erased from my memory by now. But ask me how to kill a Grathnar demon or bone eater – large or small. Which also covers what I was doing in Michigan. Mostly.”

Damn, the world got narrow. “Are there any women of letters or are we going to have to stage a protest? And these new faces. Are they useful faces, or is it like having a bunch of teenage potentials sitting around the living room talking about how much they miss their parents?”

–––––

Willow:

“It’s full of books.” Which was her way of saying that she didn’t think so. At least for the amulet part. When Vi mentioned that she would be up for research Willow grinned widely.

“We always need research help. The more we know the less surprised we’ll be. Especially since there are a few different types of vampires now. Not just the super dusty kind–Grathnar demons?”

She made a face as an easy shrug occurred. “Not exactly sure about ladies of letters just yet but the faces? Definitely useful. Or…will be. Eventually. There’s a lot of learning and reorganizing going on too.”

–––––

Vi:

Books. Okay – stock standard library so far and despite the aborted education Vi could still read. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “If we’re talking three kinds of vampires, I have them down pat. There’s the normal kind, which are great the clean up is just sort of a hosedown. The sort who don’t go bumpy – less fun, and the whole dead gray corpse thing sucks. And the daywalkers with the shark teeth, who are definitely not fun – except the handful that feed on cows, which, gross, but at least they’re no worse than carnivores. Or so I figure. And Grathnar demons – I wouldn’t worry. They’re rare. Though one of the Vice-Presidents… sorry, side thing.”

She blushed lightly. If only she’d made it to college she’d probably be a lawyer by now, with decades of precedents committed to memory, making a million dollars a week with a corner office. But lemons, life. Lemonade. Or Get the tequila and salt…

“I guess I was kind of hoping for a secret handshake and a girl scout badge, but learning and reorganizing I can definitely do. Might put off meeting too many people just for the minute since I’m still slightly overwhelmed by the whole ‘yet another hellmouth’ deal.”

–––––

Willow:

Willow wrinkled her nose at the rundown Vi gave for the other two types of vampires that were doing the suck and skulk around Lebanon. Sometimes just knowing about them made a shiver go down her spine. Not that she was scared–Been through worse, thank you. But because of the less than fun mental images they presented. Ew. “Side thing?”

Side thing mention not withstanding, she let her thoughts go back to the conversation. “There’s a lot of shifts. For meeting people, I mean. When everyone is in the Bunker at once it can feel a bit crowded.” Though neither of them were really strangers to crowded quarters, all things considered.

Her shoulders lifted and fell as an almost apologetic expression appeared for a moment. “They still crop up. It’s not a one time only type of deal. As nice as that would be for everyone involved.”

–––––

Vi:

“I just mean I don’t think Spiro Agnew or any of his family are likely to end up here,” she said. Always had a tendency to say too much. “Never mind.”

The bunker. Okay, so she had some idea what that was about. But. “You know, I really thought… town full of empty houses, I think I can probably find somewhere a little less crowded to stay. Not that it doesn’t sound great. I just… I could use a little peace and quiet. Years living with a bunch of other teenage girls, knowing more about all of them than I’d ever have wanted to… and lately I’ve been sharing an apartment that supposed to be a single with three other people. I saw a couple of nice places. I swear I’ll visit. Bring banana bread and all.”

The entire place felt so wrong Violet felt a little nauseous.

“But I would like to see it, library and all. Understand I have to fight my way past a pair of yetis?”

–––––

Willow:

She stared for a long moment. “If it helps I don’t think Nixon or any of his side-demons are going to come over to hang.” Willow would have to give herself a refresher on Grathnar demons. Just in case.

An appreciative laugh escaped her at the mention of empty houses. “It’s not as bad as I’m making it sound. Honest. Mostly the everyone together thing is for convenience. But being alone is allowed.” The witch’s expression softened a bit. “I know it’s big with the overwhelming right now but it’s not like the last time, Vi.”

Of course her soft edges disappear in favor of a bit more laughter. “Are…Who mentioned yetis? I mean…I know Sam and Dean are on the big and bulky side–sort of–but they’re not really yetis.”

–––––

Vi:

“Yikes. Hope not. They’re probably not in very good shape,” Violet said, worrying at her lip. “Still, knock on wood. Undead politicians will probably ruin your day, in general.”

Oh, she hoped she hadn’t caused offense. “Last time was great. Honestly, a bunch of scared teenage girls… it was good. Better. To pile us all in and make it feel like a slumber party. Plus safety in numbers, and all that. But I’m… a big girl, now, flat chest notwithstanding. And I wouldn’t mind some space of my own. Alongside an open invitation to come over and stare at weapons, of course.”

Well, Violet had heard Yetis. “Sam and Dean. It’s nice to know they’re not fictional characters. You hear their names from time to time, but… is it weird to admit I’m nervous about meeting them?

–––––

Willow:

“No more than the not dead ones,” Willow commented wryly. “They’d just be way smellier.” She wrinkled her nose a bit at the thought. “…Actually the smell would make it worse. Forget what I just said; you’re right.”

She waited a moment, lips twitching up once again. “I’d meant less with the end of the world kind of things. Right now things are yellow-light-keep-your-eyes-out rather than Oh look an apocalypse…If that makes any sense.” Willow closed her eyes and gave up trying not to laugh at the flat chest comment. “The open invitation would honestly have to come from Faith. I mean not that I’d see a problem with you coming and going but I’m a little less in the know with everything going on here.”

One hand came up to tuck back her hair, the gesture absentminded as she nodded. “Nervous makes sense. Especially with rumors and yeti-talk. But Buffy likes them–I think. And I know Faith does. Well she likes Sam–Anyway they’re not that bad. Just…Big.”

–––––

Vi:

Vi nodded. She probably needed to hear that. Yellow light sounded preferable to red light. And green lights never seemed to be an option these days.

“I wasn’t too worried. I just forget sometimes that I’m a slayer and therefore pretty badass in my own right. Funny how it just gets to be normal after a while,” she admitted, with a shrug. “Once I left Scotland and got back to sort of normal life it was just that Thing I Did when I wasn’t pouring drinks and wiping down tables. Or cleaning motel rooms. Or trying to sell insurance over the phone.”

She grimaced.

“If I don’t die this time, I’m going back to school,” she grumbled.

Faith, alright. “Good. I’m glad she’s here. Sort of looking forward to seeing with my own eyes that everyone’s alright, for now. And looking forward to getting my hands dirty. And is it weird if I really want Faith to see that I’m not fifteen anymore? She was always so intimidating. Thanks to Andrew, I think. Speaking of – anyone heard from him?”

~complete~

[brycolb]

#postyourdrafts

“Have fun, baby, okay? I love you,” Bryce said, making sure Issy’s tights were pulled all the way up. Potty training had been going well, and Bryce had been making Issy go potty before every and after everything they did. So naturally, the potty was the first place the two brunettes went upon arriving to the dance studio. Issy was tiny. Bryce was tiny, and Ryder, while being tall, wasn’t the tallest. So naturally, Issy was tiny too. Genetics combined with a premature birth left Issy being one of the tiniest of the two-year-olds at the dance studio. 

“I love you, Momma,” Issy said. Bryce kissed her and then stood up, walking out of the door. “Wait! Wait, Momma!” Bryce turned around and saw her baby girl running to her, the tiny pony tail bopping on top of her head. “Kiss!” Bryce squatted again. Her feet were swollen and her belly was rounding out, but she kissed and hugged her daughter one more time. Issy kissed Bryce’s belly and said, “Love you, brudder.” She hugged Bryce one last time and turned around and ran into class. Bryce grinned and stood back up. 

Bryce still worked at the dance studio, though someone else had taken over her baby ballet class and her tumbling classes as well. Bryce was moved permanently into the office. She was tiny, but she had a big personality, making her a friendly face to see when you walk into the building. On top of that, all of the kids already knew her, so they were comfortable talking to her and approaching her about issues they had involving heir music, costumes, hair, or what have you. She liked typing emails and organizing. Being able to sit was a perk, too. Especially because Bryce was 23 weeks pregnant with a baby boy, and he was already developing to be bigger than Isabella. 

Bryce sat behind the front desk, and it wasn’t as tall as she was, but when she was sitting, you would barely know that she was back there. She worked in the front lobby with a couple other girls, and they rotated days and shifts, but for the most part, Bryce sat in the front. The other girls also taught classes, and Bryce needed the money from sitting in the front office since she was no longer being able to teach. It was early in the day, and there wasn’t much to do yet. That’s how it was. Bryce tried not to scratch her belly too hard or for too long, but she gave it a small scratch and a slight rub and left one hand on her belly and the other one was on her phone. 

Maisie posted a picture of her green tea. Bryce liked it. Tucker posted a picture of him and Aubree. Bryce liked it. Aubree posted a picture of the twins. Bryce liked it and commented a couple of pink beating hearts. Travis posted a picture of Milania from across a table. They were holding hands and had a plate of chips and guacamole in front of them. Milania was showing off her ring and smiling and Travis had a sweet caption: “Two weeks until I get to marry the love of my life.” They had over 7,000 likes and 3,000 comments. Milania and Travis were fan favorites on the show, behind Bryce and Ryder but in front of Eli and Maisie. Casey and Stone were the number one fan favorites, of course. They were always being tweeted about and the official twitter page was always posting pictures of the boys. Despite the rankings of the fan-favorite couples, Bryce was very jealous of Travis and Milania’s love. She wanted to be the girl getting married in two weeks. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

Bryce set her phone down and stood up, starting to reorganize the papers and flyers on the counter. A mom from the studio walked in. Bryce was closer with her. One of her daughters and Bryce danced together, and now the woman, her name was Jillian, had a granddaughter in Issy’s class. Jillian’s oldest daughter, Reagan, was the mom of the little girl, and her name was Lilly. Anywho, Jillian walked into the dance studio. Reagan and Lilly were following behind them. Jillian stopped and smiled. 

“Bryce! How are you?” Jillian asked. 

“Hi! I’m hanging in there.” Bryce replied. “Lilly and Issy just had a play date last weekend while Reagan and I went for a walk. I saw that Danielle just graduated high school. That’s amazing. Really great for her.”

“You know, Danielle, Paul, and I keep up with the show, and this past week’s episode, you told Caiden that you’re pregnant.” Jillian said. Bryce grinned and waved to Lilly when she came skipping through. Reagan smiled and Bry grinned. “Oh, and he was just so happy, and that makes me so happy for the two of you.”

Bryce wasn’t going to say it, but the fact that people she knew were keeping up with the show that he was on, that documented every personal moment of her life, was weird. Bryce didn’t want Jillian or her husband Paul to watch her attempt to potty train her daughter or watch her have emotional break downs because Ryder doesn’t love her back or watch her argue with Nora. But she signed the contract for another four seasons. By that time, Issy would be five and Jack would be three. Things were going to be completely different. 

Bryce just smiled and hugged Jillian as she followed her daughter and graddaughter further into the studio. Bryce sat back down and refreshed the page on Instagram. Another cute post from Ryder of Issy. She had spent a good bit of the week with him. She didn’t mind, though. He was a good father. He was really stepping up, and she was proud of him for that. She was proud of herself that he’d been back for sixth months and they hadn’t had any major fights. To have fights, though, would mean they would have had to talk. They don’t talk. Not anymore. Not about things other than Issy. 

An hour passed, and Issy’s class was over. When she got out of class, Bryce picked her up and she felt a little bit warm. Issy was lethargic and cried whenever Bryce put her down. She had been feeling fine earlier that day, but her teachers said she started whining halfway through class. So, Bryce made the executive decision to take her home and to leave work. On the way home, Issy threw up in her car seat and had an accident. And that was only the beginning. She was too sick to get up off of the couch, so she had a bucket at one head and a diaper on. Bryce would clean something up, and then have to turn right around and clean something up again. 

It was finally time for a nap, and Issy’s limp, pale, little body looked so little in Bryce and Caiden’s bed. Bryce was hoping she would be feeling better when she woke up and that her nap was going to last for a while. Bryce cleaned the entire apartment. And when she was done with that, she did some laundry, and then she did the dishes. And Issy was still asleep. Where Caiden was, Bryce didn’t know, but she wished he was there. She wished Nora was there. She wished she wasn’t pregnant. And she wished she wasn’t a mom.That was the worst one of them all.