#my mother went out on her lunch break and bought a new car

[itsalwaysagirl]

I need to lay down

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 26

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4.1k

IMPORTANT a/n: Hi... I said that if the Celtics won I'd post tonight so ya know! Here it is hehe. LETS GO CELTICS

Finally used the scene in Season 1 episode 5 of Narcos of Javi and Murphy in the car. There's a lot of perspective change in this one, this section will be like this most the time just because are characters are so far apart!

Ok bye enjoy

New Orleans 1988

“Do you remember being sixteen?”

You cackle, playing with the golden bee at your lobe, looking up at your student Chiron. He had been eating his lunch in your classroom for about two months since, the cafeterias ac is shit, his words. You dig into the cake your students bought you, they thought you would cancel their monday practice quiz with a little birthday celebration. They were greatly mistaken. 

Today you're twenty-four. Everytime you think of it your brain freezes.

 You remember being sixteen like it’s yesterday. You nod, washing down the store bought dry red velvety mess with water. “Yes. It sucked.”

Chiron laughs just the same, opening the pink milk box on his tray. “When were you sixteen? In 1950?”

You stare at him with your most deadpan look, shaking your head. “I turned sixteen in 1980. I was living in Laredo, Texas and I spent my birthday alone. I received flowers from my… friend and my mom took me dress shopping two days later. What was yours like?” 

You and Chiron talk every day. You know he lives in a group home, you know he gets excited when he gets asked about his own life and even more excited when someone shares stories about theirs. He reminds you everyday that you want to have a son one day, you guess you’ll tell him when he's older. Hopefully then you could introduce your son to him and have a laugh about it. 

Teaching has given you a purpose. Being away from home has given you a purpose. Knowing no one has given you a purpose. You tell him stories all the time, you’re going to sob when he walks across that stage in May. 

“I went to the arcade with Teresa.” Teresa has been his girlfriend since the ninth grade, she went to St. Mary’s. They met doing community service and Chiron knows that they're going to be married. “She bought me this chain with her paycheck from Rouses. Are you doing anything for your birthday?”

You look at the picture of your little sister and niece sat up on her desk. Little three year old Sol holding Frankies babygirl Annie. “I still don’t know anyone out here but my coworkers so I’ll probably order in, watch Dirty Dancing and wait for a call from my brother.” You think of Javier for a moment, wondering if he knows today's your birthday. 

You wonder if you have crossed his mind. 

You saw him in the paper when you went home for christmas, you didn't visit your mother. 

You went home to simply spoil the babies at Frankie's house. You drove right back to your third floor apartment in Nola. Cried into your pillow until you slept and did it all over again for three more nights. Chiron nods, you have told him small stories about your life because he loves to listen. You’re weary of sharing too much, only offering bits you know will make him feel seen. You let him cry when he said he tried to meet his father during Christmas break and he didn’t show. That's when you decided to tell him about your first trip to New Orleans. 

Chiron frowns and sips his milk. He just got a haircut, flat top style, he had been growing his hair out the whole year for it. “Do you think Javier will call you?”

You smile at Chiron. He had been trying to pry information about your former lover for weeks. It all started after Christmas break when he cried about his father. You told him that family can be found anywhere, that your only family for a bit was your best friend who happened to be your boyfriend. 

“Do you live with Javier now?”

You shook your head, “He moved away for work.” Nearly a lie, you didn’t feel it was appropriate to tell your seventeen year old student the painful details of your life. 

Chiron went quiet for a few seconds, his face going inward. Eyes shy and sad, it happens every time he’s asked about his parents.

“So who is your family now?”

Andrea drops her keys on her kitchen counter being greeted by tiny tweets. She grins from ear to ear, placing her purse down on the couch. Walking to her cage, the two birds chirped.

 “Are you singing Happy Birthday to me?” She gets on her tiptoes, offering her fingers to the babies, they take the chance. “Thank you, mommy’s going to watch Dirty Dancing because she’s lonely. Okay?”

She brings Jewel to her face in a phantom kiss while Harvey finds sanctuary on her shoulder. 

She always wanted pets but her mother never allowed it. The second Andrea put down her deposit for her apartment, she hopped in her car and bought two blue budgies. They nipped and scurried away from her each time she approached them but after two months of persistence they finally warmed up to her. They’re now her best friends. She’s become a crazy bird lady. Just in September she left a date abruptly because she realized she hadn't fed them in a day and a half. Its safe to say she didn’t get a call back from Mr. Henning.

She sits on her couch after loading the VHS and yawning. Her birdies flying back to their cage. 

That was the summer of 1963 - when everybody called me Baby, and it didn't occur to me to mind.

At 6pm she receives a call. Her heart sinks and for a moment she thinks, maybe.

But ultimately she knows not to be so silly, she knows she needs to be angry with him but she doesn’t have it in her anymore. She unravels herself from the nest she’s made on her couch and tip toes on the hardwood floor to her home phone. 

She spoke to Genie this morning, receiving a happy birthday song from her brother and their baby’s incoherent babbles. They say little Annie is upset that Tia Andrea lives so far. 

“Hello?” Andrea shushes her birds, they love to chirp when she’s on the phone. 

“Happy Birthday Andrea,”

 And she knows Don Chuchos voice anywhere. 

Andrea closes her eyes at the sound. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever and she’s riddled with grief at the sound of his voice after nearly two years. 

“Thank you Chucho.” Andrea remembers the way he looked at her when she sat in the blistering heat on Javier’s wedding day. He looked at her knowingly, he could see that beyond the made up face she was on the brink of a breakdown. “How’s everything back home?” 

“You would know if you stopped by to see me last month.”

She winces. When Andrea came home for Christmas she made it her business to be seen by no one. Especially anyone who knew anything about Javi. 

She was finally feeling better. 

Everything was out in the open now, everyone knew their business. The scandal blew through town, she had to leave.

“I know, I'm sorry. I’m just still working through everything that happened. I knew if I stopped by your house it would bring up old memories.” Since Andrea moved to New Orleans she has gone back to Laredo five times. Two of the times she visited her mother, every other time was a straight shot to Frankie’s home. Calling him to make sure he takes Sol for the day so Andrea could see her too. She would spend two lovely nights on their plush couch and drive home the next day. 

Through the crackle of the receiver Chucho hums in understanding. 

In a twisted way Andrea always wanted him to be her father. She loved the idea of marrying Javier for more reasons than one. She wanted to officially be a part of his tiny family she loved so deeply. 

“Would this be a bad time to talk about him?” 

Andrea, the despondent girl. A girl alone, leaning against her lonely walls, a girl belonging to no one. Is a girl who cannot resist hearing about the one she loved. 

Loves. 

“Yes.” She allows it. He complies because she knows he must have no one to talk to about this. 

“He told me last week that he’s seeing a specialist—therapist, once a week.”

She smiles. She remembers the last time they had sex they talked about reaching out for help. She supposes it’s her turn. 

“That’s- I'm relieved to hear that. Is he doing okay out there?” 

Andrea has a reoccurring nightmare. She’s walking to work, the heat is brutal and her hands are full of groceries. In her nightmare, one of the bags rip open, fruit falling on the concrete. Every time, she follows an apple that rolls until it hits a news stand. And there—there she sees his face. There she reads his public obituary, the slain American agent. There she dissolves to nothing and wakes up crying harder than she ever has. She cried until she felt like dissolving into nothing. 

“He spares me details that would send me into a stroke but you know. It’s very dangerous work but he’ll make it back home in one piece. He’s too stubborn to die young.” 

Her eyes flicker to the ground and her chin quivers at his words. “Do you miss him?” Is all she can mutter. She cannot be alone in this feeling. She doesn’t like to feel this way. She liked to believe that she gets along without him well, but sometimes the wind blows and it reminds her of summer nights in his bed and she isn’t sure she could go on lying to herself.

Chucho sighs, “He misses you.” He doesn’t answer your question. He knows what you wanted to ask. “He doesn’t tell me because he’s afraid, but every conversation I can hear it in his voice. He is still grieving being away from you, still grieving being deceived. I know you are too. But I wanted to call to tell you that he is okay. I want you to be okay too, Andrea.”

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

There isn't much work being done. Scoping out for a sicario in a hundred degree weather wasn't ideal but it left some time for beers and ramblings. Murphy dug his hand into the cup holder for another sip of Club Colombiano. “So what year was this?” Murphy looks over to Javi. It had been almost a week since he last saw Hertz. His next session is in two days. He found himself walking with less weight. He even finally told Murphy the name of the girl whose picture is taped on the corner of his desk.

“1986” Javier rasps. “I was driving to the church. I was with my buddy Frankie. He was my best man.” He nearly whispers the last bit. “We were late. It was fucking blazing, 110 degrees. The whole bridal party was there sweating their balls off I’m sure. Frankie is shaking like a leaf next to me, like he’s fucking getting married. Looking for a lighter for a joint he rolled. Mind you, we're been in my bride's car since she arrived in a limousine.”

“Don’t tell me you left her at the altar.”

Javier deadpans, “Let me finish my story.” Murphy chuckles, pressing the cold beer to his neck. “He opens the glove compartment and some papers fall into his lap. And boom, we hit a traffic jam. Frankie, my best man, being the nosy fuck he his opens up the papers. He goes, three months pregnant as of June 6th, can't believe we’re both having kids. I swear to god–”

“No!” Murphy gasps.

“Yeah, Lorraine, the bride, and I hadn’t had sex since February of that year. She was showing a lot, I never thought twice when she told me she was five months along.” Murphy is staring at him like this was the juiciest television worthy story ever told. Javier looks blankly into the rolling hills of Colombia wondering why this happened to him. “I had dropped everything in my life to rush into a loveless marriage for the convenience of a family that wasn't even mine.” His eyes cast low and he feels sick. “So I turned the car around. And Andrea was there waiting to watch me marry someone else. In the heat.”

Murphy rarely knew who Andrea was other than the pretty ex-girlfriend whose picture is taped on his desk; he didn’t tell him too much. The story is enticing, he supposes. Exhilarating from the outside.

Murphy grins, “Well, you saved her a lifetime of hell.” 

He knows it’s true, his inner monologue being spat right back in his face yet he can’t seem to swallow that reality. He's a weak man, he hoped that Murphy would tell him he was wrong, that he needed to get up on a plane this instant and find his girl.

He’s silent for a moment. “Yeah, she never spoke to me again, Andrea I mean. She’ll probably be married to a-a stock broker or some shit when I come home.” If I come home, he intends to say but decides maybe this wasn’t the moment. “Trust me, she’s better off.”

“I told my partner, Steve Murphy, about the wedding.”

“That's amazing, Javier.” She sits back down in her brown leather chair, sipping her tea from her small yellow thermo. “How did you feel afterward?” Javier went home to drink himself to sleep. He decides to keep that detail to himself, before reaching forward to sip water instead of fulfilling his urge to light up.

“I felt like I’ve taken some sort of step forward. Then I remembered how it was telling Andrea. Then I felt like I regressed once again, I didn't wake up for work the next morning. This Tuesday I mean.” She’s taking it all in, yet something i n her twinkles. He sees her satisfaction, she knows this is a shy way of telling her he’s ready to talk about it again. Things are changing for him so quickly.

“We were cut for time last week.”

“We were.”

“So,”

“So.” Javier's eyes jet to the plush rug below him. “I walked to her house the night I agreed to marry Lorraine.”

June 18th 1986

He stopped by The Tap before strolling his way into your neighborhood. Sitting on a barstool like he would do back in High School, eyes peeled to the door wondering if his mother would miraculously walk in. This time he doesn’t drink so much, he pushes three beers back and feels sad enough to see you. Sad enough to break your heart. Liquid courage? Is that what they call it? He feels a buzz in his spine.

Somehow he ends up at your door. 

 “Javi, are you alright? It's late.” You whisper, closing the front door behind you. It reminds him of the time he walked to your house after getting wasted. Catching you in Cabaret makeup, you turning bright red under white paint. 

This time you’re bare faced and so much more of a woman. Javier studies you in a buzzed haze, you’re concerned and it’s pissing him off. There you are, barefoot on your porch. Caught off guard and still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. You step down one step. He wants to drop to his knees and apologize. 

You sense his sorrow so you step back up to be near to his height, placing your hands on his face. Holding his face, “Baby, are you okay?” He knows your worried little face, he knows that somehow in that brain of yours—you’re conspiring what you could have done wrong. Yet it’s never you, it’s always him. You’ve never done wrong.

“Hey…” You whisper, attempting to soothe his quivering chin with a kiss. 

He looks away. Looking into your eyes will kill him. Rejecting your kiss all together. “I’m sorry.” Javier’s voice breaks, and he isn’t embarrassed but he wants to die. He wants it to end because he feels your body go cold without even having to look at you. He’s crying and hiding his face, holding you close and hard. Sobbing into your chest, staining your gray shirt like you did his when he left the first time. “I’m so sorry—I knew I wouldn’t be right for you—Querida, I’m sorry.”

----

He crushes your body with his. He’s muttering words about a wedding, a pregnancy and you’re being crushed. You’re losing air and you hope he squeezes you tighter, hope your eyes fog and you fall. 

Hope to wake up in a cold sweat, and it's all a bad dream. Hope to call him to hang out at the lake.  

He’s crying, and its the worst sound you’ve ever heard. Saying he didn’t mean to become a father. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He doesn’t know why he hurts you. He says he doesn’t want to be married to her. Calling you sweet names and cursing his own. 

You tell him over and over that it’s okay. Yet you hope he crushes you until you disappear.

 “It’s okay—Javi please, it’s okay— I understand.” You run a hand through his hair and lower your bodies to sit on the steps. It’s 2 am. He’s drunk and unable to give you details without crying in your lap now but you know all that you need to know.

When you saw her—Lorraine. When you saw her wide nose and round little belly you felt fear running through your veins. And you slept with that panic, you dismissed it but your bones felt it. Your intuition told you that the two of you will never be the same. You saw him stare at her belly for a second too long and there—right there— you knew you were in the way of something. 

Eventually he feels okay enough to sit up straight. He still can’t look at you and you miss him in your lap when he does. You miss being able to hide yourself from him. You miss being able to shut your eyes in agony at each word of consolation. Now he can see you, even if he doesn’t look you in the eye he can see you. 

You’re able to understand that she’s five months, that they gave him a choice. To never see her and his child, child— his child— or get married. Through it all you tell him it’s okay. 

“I don’t think I have another choice— I can’t be.-“

“A deadbeat.” You finish for him and he doesn’t respond. The two of you have a million unspoken words between the two of you. 

Look at me, look at what happens when you abandon your child. Look what girls like me put up with. Look at me, you hurt me and I'm still thinking of ways to make it work in my broken little brain. 

He knows what his mother did, how could he ever? How? So you could never find it in you to be angry. 

“I’m sorry— I just can’t.” 

You shut your eyes and lean back into the steps of your home. The sky was bright that night, you couldn’t understand why the universe still presented its beauty during such a moment. 

“When will you get married?” You suppose maybe you like to hurt yourself. 

“They said two weeks.” 

You drop your head into your hands and let out a sob. Heart slamming against your ribs, drowning in it. You fear that you’ll become one with earth, a puddle seeping into the grass ahead of you. You feel his panic next to you. He’s whispering your name, and tearing against the back of your head. Your shoulders wrack and you try to speak.

But you decide silence is all you can handle.

So you stay like this for a few minutes.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” You ask finally, pathetically. 

And he’s quick to nod, “Yes—please.” His deep voice sends a vibration down your spine. And the two of you walk into your home, without fear—no room for such a silly feeling. 

He undresses and you do too. 

He faces the ceiling and you fear neither of you will catch any hours tonight. You still curl into his chest, for the last time. Feeling his warm tan skin below your ear. You count his heartbeats for minutes at a time. You count your own, attempting to make it stop on your own. Your stomach hurts so badly, you may cry just from that. But you think that you’re a twenty two year old woman who is somehow all cried out. You think of the sun coming up and him getting up to leave, you wonder what the next two weeks will look like. 

You’re sure that if you could you’d stay just like this, together and avoidant until it’s time. Just like you planned a week ago when your only fear was him leaving to Colombia. 

You know he’d do the same because the two of you love pain like no other. You stay in your inferno of a brain for nearly an hour. You know he can’t sleep. 

“What are we going to do?” He asks and you frown. 

“Go our separate ways.”

“I don’t want to.” He’s quick to respond, angry.

“I know.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. But I have to. You have to.” 

“As long as I know you, I'll want you, Andrea.”

You shut your eyes and breathe. You hope he forgets you. You hope you can. You suppose you have to try. 

“After the wedding, I don’t think I’ll ever want to speak to you again.”

You feel him intake a shaky breath. Your heart breaks again. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

His chest rises, “It’s okay. I understand.” You nod, the post of the earrings he bought you scraping his skin. “We probably shouldn’t see each other after today.” He admits and you know he’s right.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I could be a bridesmaid?” You attempt to joke and he doesn’t laugh. You can’t tell what he does but he shivers. 

“Not funny.” 

“I’m sorry.” You exhale. And there the two of you are pensive. Already missing each other. 

He sighs and it's silent once more. “I really love you.”

You sigh just the same and you love him more. You decide you couldn’t say it out loud this time.

Colombia 1988

His elbow is rested on the arm of the chair and his mouth is pressed to a fist. Eyes closed for a few moments. He thinks of the silence of that night, how he hasn't heard you say I love you since. The words that kept him going, but fuck it, he didn’t feel like he deserved it. He made their life such a mess, over and over again. Again his brain regresses to that of a child, of his own head when he was eleven, when he tore up his mothers room and stained her poetry with his tears. 

He has spent two years suffering, he knows there will be no winning. He lost you. He came here prematurely hoping to win in some way. To bring some good, save some people but he realized there's no winning here either. Just suffering and corruption. The longer he watches people die he swears his faith chips slowly with it.

So he looks over his shoulder once or twice when he leaves his session. There were very few words spoken by Dr. Hertz but what can you do when his story silences so many?

He wishes it could silence his own thoughts but instead it festers and crowds his brain in the most crucial moments. Like when he led a raid in a bar in Medellin and swore the woman who sat at the bar with a gun to her head was you. In genuine panic he freezes, the casualties raised from 24 to 25 at that moment. All because of you—him—all because of his thoughts of you, plaguing him.

And he thinks of you in the most insignificant moments. Insignificant like burying himself deep in the cunt of a woman who’s being paid. He thinks of you and can't keep it up from the guilt. What a curse it is to feel so deeply about someone. 

He remembers once, you lie beside him half asleep and mumbling like you did after sex. You said that sometimes love scares you so much that for a time you wished to never feel it. He thought of you so crazy, he fears he understands you now. 

[downwiththeficness]

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Thirty Five

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction.  Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his  best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty  well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run  her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life  from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings  for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed.  You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there  are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen  eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence,  and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O  dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should  not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to  other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  

Word Count: ~2,200

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Eva stood in the kitchen, waiting for a fresh pot of coffee to brew. It was almost lunchtime and she’d already taken her normal route around the neighborhood. There were no new job openings to inquire about, so she bought a piece of fruit from the vendor and wandered around until she got tired. Then, aware of the time, she headed home and turned on the next episode of Sergio and Maria’s story.

Luz had no idea that Sergio was struggling with the question of whether or not he would go through with marrying her. She spent most of the episode filling out invitations and looking for dresses. Maria, on the other hand, was drowning her sorrows in tequila with her best friend who was encouraging her to seek out her long lost love. All in all, Eva found it very entertaining.

The ring of the phone startled her during a commercial break. Eva picked it up with a tentative ‘hello?’

Horacio’s voice came through, “Eva, did I leave my lunch on the kitchen counter?”

Leaning around the doorway, she looked for it, “Yes, you did.”

“Would you mind bringing it to me?” He asked, “I would normally just get something here, but I was looking forward to the leftovers.”

Eva sympathized with him. If she hadn’t eaten every scrap of food on her plate, she would be looking forward to the leftovers, too.  “I can do that,” she replied, already reaching for the phone book to call a cab. “You’re at your office today?”

“Sí,” then, “Gracias, Amorcita.”

Eva smiled wide even though he couldn’t see her, “You’re welcome. I’ll come right over.”

After hanging up with Horacio, Eva dialed a cab company and very carefully asked for a ride from her home to Horacio’s office. The person on the other side of the line didn’t seem bothered by her stilted speech and gave her a wait time of twenty minutes. It was plenty for Eva to get cleaned up and make herself presentable.

She knew that there was little that she could do about the fact that she stuck out in a crowd. Eva was a foreigner and too new to the country to effectively hide how American she was. She just had to try her best to make a good impression wherever she went, especially if she was going to Horacio’s office. As long as she was polished and polite to his coworkers, it probably wouldn’t matter too much that she was from an entirely different hemisphere.

She selected her outfit with care. Her sartorial choices were limited, but she had enough accessories to add a little flash here and there. After stepping into her heels, she put some money in a handbag and went to the kitchen to grab Horacio’s lunchbox.

The cab pulled into the driveway and Eva gave the address to the driver. Along the way, she attempted to memorize the route. It was further away than she’d been, aside from the first trip from the airport. The neat houses gave way to a highway flanked by trees until the car reached the outskirts of the city, proper.

Most of the buildings were uniform concrete with official looking signs. Eva made note of a medical center about half a block from where the cab eventually pulled to a stop. There was also a post office and general store. In the distance, Eva spotted a small park with children running through it.

She paid the driver and got out, smoothing her skirt nervously before climbing the steps to the front door. While she walked, Eva practiced the translation for ‘hello, I’m looking for my husband, Captain Carrillo’ in her head. The closer she got to the doors, the more nervous she became. When she cleared the stairs, Eva made herself stop and take a deep breath. She was just a wife dropping off lunch to her husband. No big deal.

Another fortifying breath and Eva breezed into the lobby as if she belonged there. She found a secretary who patiently listened to her inquiry. A moment later and she was standing in an elevator staring as a sticky note with short directions written on it. The doors opened and she stepped out, looking both ways to find an office number.

At the end of the hall, Eva dropped down a short set of stairs to an open floor littered with desks. The sound of people talking was muffled by the click of typewriters and the loud scratch of a fax machine printing in the corner. Eva paused at the base of the stairs so that she could scan the room for Horacio. It didn’t take her long to spot him.

Moving quickly through the spacious room, Horacio’s purposeful steps carried him alongside another officer. He was speaking to them in words she couldn’t hear, but the tone was clear: This is what I want, and this is how I want it. It was a tone that she knew intimately and just hearing it made her skin prickle.

Other officers noted Horacio’s approach long before he got there. Eva watched their bodies stiffen and move out of the way to let him through. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him part a crowd just by walking towards it and Eva had always assumed that it was a Diego thing. That the danger Diego represented was telegraphed so acutely that anyone could sense it.

Evidently, it was a Horacio thing.

Eva quickly calculated where he might be going and easily found her entry point when a group of officers scurried off down another hallway. She put herself in Horacio’s path and waited for him to spot her.

She waited about seven seconds.

Horacio locked eyes with her and the ambient sounds of the room dimmed. His mouth pulled up into a smile and he seemed to completely forget that he was speaking to someone. The even stride shortened and quickened as he made his way towards her. When he got close, both hands reached out to grasp her hips.

He kissed her cheek lightly, “You brought lunch?”

Eva held up his lunchbox, “I brought lunch.”

The officer he had been talking to stood off to the side, watching their interaction with interest. If the expression on his face was anything to go on, Eva thought seeing Horacio kiss someone in public was a rare event that would later result in gentle ribbing between them.

Horacio took the lunchbox from her and stepped to the side, “Eva, this is Officer Trujillo. Trujillo, this is my wife.”

Like the last time he introduced her, Eva’s heart fluttered at the way he said ‘my wife’. No hesitation. No stumbling over the word. No derision or sarcasm in his tone. Just a simple statement of unequivocal fact.

“Mrs. Carrillo,” the officer greeted, “its nice to finally meet you.”

Eva smiled, “Its nice to meet you, too. And, thank you for finding the house for us. We’re very grateful.”

Trujillo dipped his head in acknowledgment, “You’re welcome. Besides, what else was I supposed to do when I heard the Major went to America and got married without telling anyone.”

“Major?”

Horacio shifted on his feet, “Ah. I got promoted this morning. I was going to tell you when I got home.”

“That’s wonderful!” she gasped.

Trujillo stepped forward and slapped Horacio on the shoulder, “I’m looking forward to hearing how you managed to bring down that American doctor. We could use some new strategies.”

Eva felt her smile freeze in place.

Horacio, bless him, noticed, “I’ll let you know when I’ve scheduled the training. Right now, I’m going to have lunch.”

Trujillo waved him off with a grin and Horacio guided Eva away with a hand on the small of her back. They walked to an office that was in disarray. Boxes and filing cabinets were half opened. The desk was covered in accordion files that were bursting at the seams. On the far wall was a couch that had even more boxes stacked on top of it.

Horacio closed the door behind them, “Sorry about…”

Eva shook her head, “He doesn’t know. Its fine. Just caught me off guard.”

He looked at her a moment more before he seemed to accept her answer. Eva watched him walk around his desk and kneel down. The sound of rustling preceded the distinct chime of a microwave starting.

“So, new promotion and a new office?”

Head lifting so that he looked at her from just above the edge of his desk, Horacio replied, “Something like that. I’m supposed to head a task force to hunt down drug dealers.”

She huffed an amused laugh, “I’d say you have a head start on the job.”

He stood, “Yes. I think so.” A tilt of his head, “I doubt it will be nearly as exciting as playing a drug dealer. But, I’ll manage.”

Sauntering over to him, Eva said, “I wouldn’t toss Diego aside so quickly. You might need him back someday.”

There was something in his expression that flinched, but he covered it smoothly by pulling his mouth into a very Diego-like smirk, “I’m sure Diego would be thrilled to hear you think so highly of him.”

Eva turned her shoulders coyly and scrunched her face, “Have to say: When I first met him? Total asshole. But, he grew on me.”

Horacio took her hand and held it loosely, “You’re right. He was an asshole. But, he was efficient. And, I never would have met you without him.”

He was right. If Diego hadn’t stormed into her life, Eva would still be living in that stupid fucking house surrounded by pretty things and slowly dying inside.

“I’m glad I met him,” she murmured.

“Me, too.”

The microwave dinged. Horacio knelt down and carefully pulled the Tupperware from it and cleared off a space on his desk. He sat in a rolling chair and gestured for her to take on of the two chairs opposite.

“We’ll share,” he announced, picking up the fork.

Eva sat and leaned her elbows on the desk, “That’s very gracious of you.”

With a bright hum, Horacio passed her the fork so that she could take a bite, “I’m glad you liked the restaurant. We should go back soon.”

“We should,” she agreed, “We have a promotion to celebrate.”

“Its not a big deal.”

Eva pointed the fork at him, “It is a big deal. You said it, yourself. The whole point of going to Louisiana was so that you could get this promotion. And, look, here it is. You did it.”

Horacio took the fork from her, “I had help. Your help, actually.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I was a big help while I had a complete mental breakdown and cried for, like, six months.”

“It wasn’t an easy situation.”

He had a point, but Eva refused to allow it, “And, I didn’t make it any easier.”

Horacio chewed thoughtfully, “I don’t need the promotion to be happy with what happened. I got something better.”

How was she supposed to argue with him when he was saying such sweet things? Eva shook her head ruefully, but let him have the win. He forked another bite into his mouth instead of gloating.

Eva’s gaze shifted to the mountain of files on his desk, “Are these your first cases, Major?”

Before he could answer, her eyes caught the familiar Ardent logo. She laid a hand on the file and looked at him in question.

“I,” he began in a long, drawn out syllable, “got an update faxed in from Javier. Its about the trial.”

Her chest clenched, “Oh?”

“The evidence we gathered was very, very good and the DA was suggesting a minimum sentence of twenty years.”

“That’s good, right?”

He nodded, “But, a few days ago, he fled. They’re not sure where he went—he covered his tracks pretty well.”

Eva couldn’t speak around the fear that began to bubble up from her stomach and into her throat. The food in her mouth suddenly felt like lead.

Horacio caught her attention, “He won’t get close to you. I’ve already flagged him at every airport in the country. That’s if he figures out that you’re here, which he won’t.”

She remembered the extra measures he took while they made their way to Colombia. Meticulously, Eva walked through them, looking for weaknesses that Josh might be able to exploit. They were few and far between, but they were there.

The best plan would be for the authorities to catch up with Josh and put him behind bars. But, where…?

“I know where he is,” she said.

Horacio’s brows rose, “You do?”

Eva nodded, “He’s in Mexico. Before everything went to shit, he said that he wanted to move the operation.”

Picking up a pen and notepad, Horacio began to write, “Did he say where in Mexico?”

She shook her head, “No, but I would look for manufacturing towns—places where he could create a new company and start over. Somewhere that he could export the product back into the US.”

He wrote down her words with bullet points and set down the pen, “What was that about not helping, again?”

[never-not-ever]

The drive down to my Aunt & Uncles wasn’t bad! I made pretty good timing and stopped twice for gas and once at Panera for lunch. I talked on the phone with a coworker when she was on her way to work and then later on in the afternoon when I was close to arriving. It was nice and it helped kill some time. I really like her and feel most close to her out of all my “friends” at work. She mentioned Jennette McCurdy’s memoir and I was like ahhh I actually have it as an audiobook in my library but have been putting it off for I don’t even know what reason lol. I’m glad she mentioned it cause I was about to re-listen to Elena Vanishing for the 10th time lol.

I didn’t really hit any traffic which was amazing and for the most part everyone around me was driving safely. Except for one stupid fucking asshole. He literally almost hit me and I would have ended up rolling over onto the side of the road. He was trying to pass me, the pickup truck in front of me and the tractor trailer in front of the pickup truck. There was only two lanes on our side of the highway and when he went to pass all three of us he didn’t notice the slow car in the right lane. The three of us were slowly passing that car and this asshole who went in that lane, then sped up to that slow car, realized he wasn’t going to be able to cut back into our lane then didn’t look over and didn’t see me somehow and went to merge back into my lane almost hitting me. I don’t know if any of that made sense but god I was so livid and shaking.

The more south I drove the more tractor trailers there were on the highway and I’ve gotten pretty used to driving with them, but it can still be scary at times when you’re literally boxed in, one in front, one on the side and one behind you. It’s intense down here. 

So back to Jennette’s memoir!!!! I remember last year I bought it not realizing it wasn’t released yet. So it was basically the pre-sale and by the time it was released I sort of lost interest in audiobooks. I’m glad I started it today cause my god it’s good! It’s infuriating at times the way her mother treated her and the things she did. Some things reminded me of my mother and I kept finding myself shaking my head in disbelief. Everytime I read a memoir I always think about my own upbringing and how I have the “content” to make a pretty good memoir. I just don’t know how interesting it would be and I also don’t have the talent of writing or even eloquently expressing my thoughts sometimes. 

I had to take some breaks from the audiobook and so I’d listen to a playlist of my favorite Billie Eilish songs and then switch to Midnights. I tried to listen to Folklore but it was just making me sad reminding me of one of the good times of our “relationship” back when Folklore came out and we moved apartments and things were fresh and new and “good”.

To end this long post, I have therapy tomorrow (so glad I decided to keep the appointment even though I’m on vacation) and I drafted up a little agenda so it’s not awkward me trying to come up with stuff last minute. Mainly the anniversary yesterday, our weirdness these past few days and my thoughts surrounding that, and then as always my “weight loss journey” and all the fun stuff that comes with that. 

[p0gue-m0h0n3]

"Piñatas and Piranhas"

In 2010, I started a new job as Life Enrichment Manager for a senior living Corp. Darlene, the Buisness office manager, went out of her way to make me feel welcome. We'd spend our lunch hour getting to know each other better, and discussing improvements we hoped to make on the campus. It was during our lunch chats, that Darlene shared, that in just one week, she would be going in for a major surgery.

The she left for medical leave… I saw her walking to her car, gave her a big, one-armed wave and for some reason (still unknown to me need anything at all, just holler, I'll be there in a flash!

Two days lasted, I recieved a call from a very groggy Darlene. When you said to call youif I needed ,help... did you really mean good help with ANYTHING? Staying true to my word, YES! ABSOLUTELY! I watched the the worried look rapidy melt from her face.

OH,THANK GOD!!! I can't kero up with n⁸[o puppies are driving me nuts. Could you pleeeaaasse take them until I'm released? "

Why this didn't seem like a favor at all, caring for 9-6 week old pugs!!! I imagined myself on the floor covered in adorable tail waggers who looked like one had chased a parked car, and the remaining 8 followed suit. THE PUPPY BREATH...Ohhh, the puppy breath and those adorable pug puppy sounds…I couldn't wait to get them home to snuggle them!!

NOPE! NONE OF THE ABOVE HAPPENED!!

It was like hosting a birthday party for 9 baby piranhas, where every 3 hours I had to skillfully wade thru the frenzy of yippy and extremely zippy, little ankle biting guests, I'm order to hang the party piñata! Which, by the way, had the added duty of sitting on a hard stool for a minimum of half hour, waiting for each one to crap before the ding of the bell and the piranha pug wrestling pro championships began. If I missed even 1 squatter, it meant baths for all!!

ON WEEK 3, I upped my Xanax prescription to Anna Nicole Smith level, bought 2 tiny wading pools (one for intake… one for outpoo-t), which did solve 2 of the 1,796,857 other issues, from PEWEES PUGTOP PLAYHOUSE, ranging from nooo sleep, to no sex, because my husband, apparently makes mother pug noises during coitus, triggering all nine to cry, then poop, then wrestle in the poop, aaaaaannnd you know the rest. This unraveling series of unfortunate dog domino events, had profound ability to instantly trigger the realtion of the passion of foreplay to the image of an 11pm poo party mop up. Resulting in an emphatic "NO!" when my husband dared to develop even a single sparkle in his eye!

FINALLY.....week six had arrived, and it was pick up day at Pissy Missy's piranha-dog daycamp. I practically threw all 9 yapping bandits, like snowballs at a mean kid on Christmas break, in desperation to get them in her car fast enough.

Darlene gasped, and softly slapped her hands on her face, with mouth opened in awe. She marveled at how much they'd grown since she'd last seen them. She quietly squeeled while spewing the science behind their fast bellies and healthy glow, "they only do this well while in the cage of someone who obviously LOVED caring for them!" I felt like such a fraud, but pocketed the counterfeit compliments as she went on like Bill Neye, the pug science guy.

She finally took a breath, then fashioned an obvios mirror rehearsed smile (somewhere between Shirely Temple and the Grinch) . She announced, "I've been thinking this whole time about how I could possibly repay you for the huge favor you did! " ...(we can start with 3-5 paid days off work), a tin of ankle bandaids- the good fabric kinds and a magnum of Greygoose Vodka, is what I was thinking) …

Darlene continued…."So I talked to my husband last night, and we've decided to give YOU".......(at the point, my butt puckered with excitement, thinking it was a new car, I mean there was so much build up!)… "PICK OF THE LITTER!!!" She continued. YOU CAN FUCK RIGHT OFF DARLENE! Was the reply in head… so I thought it was in my head, till I saw the Grinchy Temple smile fade from her church lady face, then realized my reply had somehow escaped, during my flash of PUG PTSD, thinking she was gonna leave me with one of those little bastards!!

"Ohhh they can be alot, can't they?" She said (kinda cringing) then she smiled. I said nothing (but the crowd inside my head went wild! They were so proud I fought back 4 letter words reserved for US Navy Brigoderes stranded for 6 months at sea ), when I relaxed my mouth, I could feel the blood rush back into my lips, so I knew I had kept them tight as nuns ass during midnight mass.

Two days later, I found a check on my desk for $500 and a note from Darlene thanking me again for all my help. There was of, course no way I was keeping the money, so returned it to her desk while she was at lunch. In big red letters I had written the word "VOID" accros the check, in tiny letters bellow the void I wrote "of this friendship" with a laugh emoji. I hid in the lobby, waiting for her to return to her office. return heard her let out the biggest laugh… then I entered and joined her.

[ahockeywrites]

Is that blood? - Matthew Tkachuk

Prompt: “Is that blood?” “Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” “You are literally bleeding.” Warnings: as the prompt says mentions of blood, children

The sun basked down in St Louis and you were spending time with the Tkachuk family over summer break. It was pretty normal for you to wake up in the late morning and make your way over to the Tkachuk residence for a barbecue style lunch, then spend the rest of the day either in their pool, playing sports in the backyard or going to the shops with whoever wanted to.

Today was no different, you had made your way across to their side of town with a car full of their favourite Starbucks drinks. It was the least you could do to thank them for their hospitality and letting you crash their family plans. Chantal always told you that you were like a child to her and you were always welcome to join them for as long as you wanted. Being an only child was difficult but having two honorary brothers and one honorary sister did make everything a lot more fun. Matthew and Brady spent their time protecting you from the boys in the neighbourhood and Taryn was the perfect person for you to chat to about relationships.

There was one thing, however, that you had kept from Taryn. The crush on her eldest brother that had been manifesting over the past few years. Hockey training had been good to him, he had grown into his body and you couldn’t help sneaking a glance or two at him. You thought you were being slick, and you were the first time. But every other time, he had noticed you staring and was thinking about the best way to approach you.

Matthew had been harbouring a crush on you since the start of the summer when he saw you in that bathing suit. The red one with white polka dots, it highlighted all of your features perfectly and he knew that hiding this crush would be difficult with the amount of time you spent at their house.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to tell you, there was just always something stopping him. The first time, the two of you were in the kitchen fetching some drinks to bring out to everyone and as he was about to tell you, Brady walked in, covered in some combination of beer and liquor that smelt horrible. You had basically forced Brady upstairs and ran out of the kitchen to try and get rid of the smell.

The second time, you, Matthew, Taryn and Brady had gone to the mall just for a shopping trip as you thought that Matt needed an entire new wardrobe and that would only happen if he was there and could help choose his clothes. Brady had dragged Taryn to some store to try and find something for his girlfriend because he knew he wanted to get her a gift, but had absolutely no idea what sort of thing would be good.

You and Matt were in a clothes store and had picked out a few things for him to go and try on. He wasn’t being overly cooperative but was enjoying spending time with you. He also wasn’t the best at modelling, but you accepted it because he played hockey. One thing you didn’t realise would be difficult to find was jeans. Matthew liked to remind you that he suffered from a hockey butt and it would be hard to find a pair that actually made it over his glutes. Every single time he made the comment, which was often, you told him that you could always make him a pair if he needed to.

Eventually, you both went to the food court to grab something to eat. It was pretty busy but you were able to sneak around the people blocking the way to find a place to sit down. Matt insisted that he bought you lunch and was going to tell you exactly how he felt when it was just the two of you and your food. But, when he was about to pay, he saw that Brady and Taryn had found the table you were sat at and it was another chance ruined.

Matthew had the entire thing planned out for the third time, but what he didn’t anticipate was having a load of his small cousins running around his back yard. He let out a groan but was able to hide it. As he was about to drop you a text warning you of the kids, you pulled into the driveway. He thought it was going to be impossible for him to tell you how he felt for you. 

At this point, he just accepted that the universe had decided that the two of you would never be more than friends. Matthew knew that just being friends with you was not a bad thing at all, he always valued your opinion and advice just as much as his mother’s. 

You jumped out of your car to hear the sounds of children causing havoc on Tkachuk terrace and knew that you’d be having a fun day being pulled between different games and people. By this point in the summer, Chantal had given you the code to get in through the back gate as you were over almost every single day. Slowly and quietly, you opened the gate so that none of the younger Tkachuk’s would hear you and try to escape the garden.

The endeavour was successful and you were able to make it all of two steps before Keith noticed the iced coffees in your hand. “Ah! Y/N, always making my day,” he said walking in your direction to give you a hand with the drinks. He took half of them from your hands and noticed that you had written names on each of them so you could get them to the right person. He shot you a smile when he noticed and knew that he’d be able to get them to whoever wanted them without having to constantly ask you.

Keith noticed the small things you did for his family that most people wouldn’t notice. Bringing coffees to the house was just another thing to add to the list which included flowers for Chantal, muffins for everyone almost every time you visited to helping Taryn with her school work when she got stuck, and his personal favourite, seeing you interact with the younger members of his family. The way Charlotte and Sarah would gravitate towards you whenever the three of you were together. They always wanted you to do something with them, building lego, doing their hair, swimming. It was difficult for them to separate from you.

Today was no different, as soon as they heard your name, their little legs propelled the two of them towards you. You lifted them both up, one in each arm, and spun them around a few times. The conversation started immediately and they needed to know everything that had happened to you in the past week. You decided to humour them by over exaggerating absolutely everything you had done and they loved it. 

Unbeknownst to you, Matthew was sitting across the garden from you and was taking in every single move you were making. Even if he was meant to be playing basketball, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were beautiful, as always, but seeing you interact with his younger cousins just made his heart swell with love. He thought it was just a crush before, but now he knew, it was more than that.

Brady, being the annoying younger brother he is, had noticed that Matthew was slightly out of it and threw the basketball straight at his chest, trying to get his attention. It did hit him, but it was a bit harder than expected. Matthew stepped back, to try and absorb some of the shock but ended up tripping over someone’s foot and grazing his knee.

“Brady,” Matthew said with some anger but before he could continue, you had already made your way across to him assessing how bad the injury to his knee was.

“Matt,” you sighed, with a small amount of disappointment. “Come with me, hopefully my first aid skills are up to scratch to deal with this small graze.” You offered him your hand in case he decided to be a drama queen and pretend like he couldn’t walk properly just to annoy Brady. 

Once the two of you were inside, you went around to the bathroom and made him sit on the bathroom counter so you could get a better look at his knee. You thought that it was just a light scrape so there wouldn’t be any blood. Matthew knew exactly how to get you on his good side and he was about to tell you exactly how he felt as it was the first time in what felt like forever that the two of you were alone but then, “is that blood?” you asked, unsure how you had missed it the first two times you had looked over his knee.

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is-”

“Matthew Tkachuk, you are literally bleeding,” you cut in, completely ignoring what he was trying to say.

“Y/N. I don’t care about the blood. I want to tell you something I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks,” he admitted. You looked up at him from where you were to see him looking directly at you, with love in his eyes. “I like you, more than I should as a friend. And I want you to be my girlfriend?” It was a question because he had no idea what your response was going to be. 

“I like you more than a friend should too Matt,” you said, not breaking eye contact with him. “So, in answer to your question, yes.” He smiled as soon as he heard that. “Yes, I will be your girlfriend and my first duty as your girlfriend is to bandage up your bleeding knee.”

[acreativeme]

Family Comes First

Family Comes First OA x Reader

Y/N rushed around the kitchen, trying to pack her kids lunch as they ate breakfast. She looked over at the stove clock, noticing that it was almost time for her husband to leave for work. She prayed that he would be down in time to see their kids off to school. “Momma, can I get some pretzels for lunch?” Aria, their daughter, asked, shoving a spoonful of cereal in her mouth. Y/N grinned at her daughter. “There is already a pack in both your lunchbox and backpack.” She pressed a kiss to her daughter’s crazy curls. “Will dad be here to see us off?” Their son,Odion, asked, shoving a strawberry from his fruit salad in his mouth. Y/N went to reply but was cut off by the sound of their front opening and closing. She frowned, watching OA get into his SUV and pull out of the driveway. “I don’t think so, Oddi.” After they finished getting ready for the day in silence, Y/N had opted to take them to school instead of having them take the bus. She noticed the sadness on the kids face, which sparked anger in her heart. Aria and Odion pressed a kiss to her cheek as they hopped out of the car. “Love you, Momma!” they called as they headed towards their friends. “Have a good day!” she replied as the door shut.

She stepped out of the elevator onto her husband’s floor. She had to take a deep breath as she stepped into the bullpen, where it seemed they were working on a case. Jubial was the first to notice her, but reframed from saying anything so as to not interrupt whatever Tech was talking. Maggie was the next to notice her and didn’t hold back her surprise. “Y/N? What are you doing here? Are the kids alright?” Maggie asked, alerting OA to his wife’s presence. He turned and frowned. “What are you doing here?” “Can I talk with you alone, Omar?” Y/N asked, not breaking eye contact with him. Maggie raised her eyebrows at Y/N’s use of OA’s full first name. “Everything okay?” She asked him. He shrugged, whispering to her. “I don’t know.” He led Y/N off towards an empty conference room. “What do you need, Y/N? I am in the middle of a case.” Y/N sighed, trying to remain calm. “You didn’t say goodbye this morning.” He rolled his eyes. “You know that there is a possibility that I would get called out to a case at any moment and can’t always say goodbye.” “Yes, I know that! But do you want to know who doesn’t know that?!” Her tone was tense, her calm resolve cracking at his lame excuse. “Who?” He asked, irritation evident in his voice. “Our kids! Remember them? Their names are Aria and Odion, if you have forgotten.” She hissed, face turning red as she spoke. He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know our children’s names, Y/N. I am their father.” Y/N threw her hands up, “well, you aren’t acting like it! When was the last time that you had a conversation with our children? Was it before or after Aria took up painting or Odion joined the soccer team? Because they sure can’t remember when you saw them off to school last.” “Painting? Soccer? When did this happen?” He asked, slumping against the wall. “4 months ago.” She whispered, looking down at her ring. “Omar, I think that we should take a break.” He looked up at her, shock on his face. “What are you talking about, a break, we are married?” She slipped the ring off her finger. “You need to find somewhere else to stay for a while. You can come over today while we are out for your things.” He started to hyperventilate, panic filled his chest. “You can’t be serious, Y/N. That is our home, you can’t just kick me out.” She dropped the ring on the table, turning to leave. “It hasn’t been our home for a long time, Omar.”

After she left, Y/N sat in her car for twenty minutes and cried. It broke her heart to say those things to him, but the look on her children’s faces broke it even more. She was tired of seeing them get let down time and time again by him and his broken promises. When she was finished crying, she cleaned herself up and went to the store to buy snacks for after soccer practice. Afterwards, she headed into work for a few hours-- wanting to get her mind off what happened that morning. During this time, she ignored the numerous calls and text messages from both OA and Maggie. She didn’t have time or energy to worry about them as she needed to focus on caring for her children and getting work done. Around 2:30PM, Y/N left work to make her way towards her children’s school-- making sure that she had an afternoon snack for all of them. They had immediately started ranting about what had happened at school that day, which made her smile as it seemed like the events of this morning were long forgotten. They had arrived at the soccer field about an hour before the start of Odion’s practice, so she had them get a head start on their homework as she started editing a new manuscript. She would pause her work to help, whenever one of them had a question or needed help. When they got home from practice, Y/N had sent them up to clean up and finish their homework while she worked on dinner. Neither child asked about their father, noticing that his absence was hurting their mother. Despite her pain, she kept up a brave face as she went through their usual nightly routine. She tucked them into bed and gave them both goodnight kisses, before running herself a hot bath.

...Three Months Later…

Y/N had been throwing up for a couple of weeks, which has only happened one other time and it was when she was pregnant with the twins. She had to wait until after the kids had gotten on the bus, before she could test her theory. There was a part of her hoped that it wasn’t true, but that hope was dashed when the plus sign popped up. She was quick to schedule an appointment with her doctor to get a more official result, silently hoping for a false positive. Four days later, she was sitting in a cafe-- waiting for the only person she could count on to show. She had been ordered for them both, one black coffee with sugar and one peppermint tea. She was picking at a chocolate chip muffin, wanting to both shove it all in her mouth and throw it up from nerves at the same time. “Hey, Y/N. How are you doing?” Maggie asked, taking the empty seat in front of Y/N. Y/N jumped, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Maggie, you scared me.” Maggie raised her eyebrows, not used to Y/N being jumpy. “What’s going on? Are you and the kids alright?” “Yes, we are fine. I just got some life changing news today and I had to share it with someone that I could trust.” Y/N admitted, breaking eye contact with Maggie. Maggie reached across the table to hold her hand. “What’s going on?” Y/N took a deep breath. “I am pregnant… and it is OA’s. My doctor said that I am around 20 weeks along.” A tear ran down her cheek as she admitted to both herself and Maggie what she had been trying to deny. Maggie squeezed her hand, wanting to comfort her friend. “Are you planning on keeping it?” Y/N gasped at her question, releasing her hand. “Of course! Just because me and OA are separated doesn’t mean that I don’t love who we created.” She caressed her slightly swollen stomach. Maggie nodded, happy to know that she was not going to get rid of the baby. “How are you planning to tell OA?” Y/N closed her eyes, trying to control her anxiety and tears. “I don’t know..”

...Two Days Later… The sound of pounding on the front door at 2:30AM, woke Y/N from a dead sleep. She wrapped herself in OA’s abandoned rob, having kept it after he moved out. She grabbed the gun he had bought her after she got her license to carry, which he had her get after they found out they were pregnant with the twins. She had it resting at her side, with her finger off the trigger of course, as she looked through the peephole. Standing there in the pouring rain, was OA. She could tell that something was wrong as he looked like he had been crying. She stepped aside, wanting to get him out of the rain as soon as possible. “What are you doing here, OA?” Y/N asked, moving to grab a towel from their downstairs bathroom. He thanked her as he took it from her. “Maggie told me.” Y/N froze, halfway turned around to head towards the kitchen. “She told you what?” “She told me that you were pregnant.. With my baby.” He replied, sounding surprised with the last part of his statement. She glared at him. “Did you think that it was someone else’s?” She crossed her arms, waiting for his response. “N-no. I am more surprised that you didn’t tell me.” He stuttered. She sighed. “I didn’t know how to tell you, as it was a surprise to me as much as it was to you.” Y/N sat on the arm of the couch. “I wanted to think about how I was going to tell you, as you haven’t really been a big part of our other children’s lives.” He looked down in shame. “I know, and I have been thinking about that. I want to be a better father, and husband as I seem to have been lacking in both departments recently.” She took a step towards him. “Do you promise?” She looked up at him with big eyes. He cautiously wrapped his arms around her. “I promise. Family comes first, no matter what.” She smiled, meeting in the middle to share a kiss. “Okay.”

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Delicate. — Part 1.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: Here we are fam, i gotta be honest with y’all, this is heavily inspired in the fact that i watched Miss Americana twice this month, what resulted in me going through my taylor swfit phase again. Pls bare with me, i haven’t written anything like this before.

catch up here!

They said artists become what they are because deep down they are as insecure if not more than normal people. Because they craved constant validation in what they do. 

At least it was the case for Y/n. 

A girl who has built an entire system around being accepted by the public, someone who their major source of happiness is provided by strangers all around the world. When you are living from the approval of strangers and that is where you drive all your joy and fulfillment, one bad thing can cause everything to go down. Y/n has spent her whole life trying to please the world so they would like her, so what she has achieved over the years would last. 

When the world turned their back on her, Y/n had no choice but to disappear, because she thought that was what everyone wanted. Even then, she made her choices around what she thought would make them happy.

Y/n knew she could not hide forever, but for now, it was a necessary evil she had to take. Deciding to take a break from everything was the healthiest decision she has ever made, shutting down her social media, getting out of the city and going back home with her family was exactly what she needed. 

"Mom was sad she couldn't pick you up from the airport."

Seventeen-year-old Jensen, whose driving license was still new and fresh, was the one who picked Y/n up when her flight landed. In complete honesty, she did not like using a private plane, but she could not risk someone seeing where she was going. Jensen was good at driving, well, he has not crashed into a tree yet, so they were safe. 

"She would've brought Chase and scare Pandora and Lizzie." 

Jensen chuckled. "She's obsessed with him. I haven't started college yet and she's already thinking about turning my room into Chase's." 

Her parents’ house was a gated property away from others since it was safer that way. Y/n would not stay there the whole time since she had her own apartment a little closer to town. Her luggage, as well as her cats, were picked up separately and taken to her home, she would go there after lunch with her family. Jensen parked next to a black range rover that belonged to their dad, meaning both of their parents were home. 

Y/n threw her backpack over her shoulder as she stepped out of the car, eager to finally reunite with her family, especially her mother. She is in desperate need of a tight hug, a mug of hot chocolate and a shoulder to cry on. Y/n did not realize how mentally drained she was until she saw her mother open the front door. 

"My baby!" Louise exclaimed, embracing her daughter in a tight hug. "How was the flight?" 

"It was fine. I'm starving though." 

They walked into the living room and Louise closed the door behind them. Y/n dropped her backpack on one of the couches and sighed in relief. “Where’s dad?” Jensen went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Get the white wine.” Y/n told him.

“It’s too early to drink that.” Louise took the bottle from Jensen’s hands and put it back in the fridge. “Dad’s outside. We bought some roses that will look beautiful by the pool.”

“You’re buying a lot of plants lately.” Y/n pointed a big vase full of daisies, her mom’s favorites, on the kitchen’s island. 

“I like supporting local business.” She shrugged.

“That and she’s obsessed with the owner of the flower shop.” Jensen chuckled, cracking open a water bottle. 

“Hey! That’s not true.” 

“Mom, you there like… every day. Who needs new flowers every day?”

“Shush.” The elder woman faked offense then gigged. “Handsome young man, he is. I’ll take you tomorrow.” She turned to Y/n. 

“Oh, no, mom. I’m going to lock myself in my apartment and try to write.” She said, making Louise scoff. “I’m serious!”

“I know you are. But living like a hermit is not going to do you any good.”

“I agree, sis.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, knowing they were right as always but did not want to admit it. The truth was, she wanted to write some songs, so badly, but could not find the right words. She was hoping to get some peace and quiet to get her ideas and emotions in order again. Before any of them could say anything else, David entered the kitchen while taking off his gardening gloves and smiled widely when he spotted Y/n.

“And who do we have here?”

“Hi, dad.” Y/n smiled at him brightly before wrapping her arms around her dad, who hugged her back just as tight. 

“Good to have you home, darling.” 

The family of four sat on the kitchen island and started to catch up. Jensen talked about his different college options and how he was considering getting a summer job this year. Louise kept talking about how nice the owner of this flower shop was, making emphasis on how he was also single. Y/n didn’t know what she was trying to do, but she didn’t pay much attention either. 

Overall it was nice for Y/n to get out of her head for a little bit, and her family was always a great help for that. She knew she still had a lot to deal with, and she would probably get a call from her publicist and a lot of other people soon, but for now, she just wanted to think about anything else that wasn't the whole world hating on her. 

"How are you doing, Y/n? Be honest." Her mom asked after they stayed alone in the kitchen.

"Been better." She sighed. "I don't want to think about it, mom."

"You have to talk to someone, sweetie. I know your team cares for you and is trying to handle the situation, but you can still talk to me."

"I know, thank you. I'm just trying to figure it what I'm going to do."

Louise sighed. "You sure you don't want to stay here? You have your room and everything."

"Thanks for the offer, mom. But I sort of want to be on my own." She said. "But I'll come for lunch every day, I promise."

Although Louise wasn't convinced by her daughter's words, she chose to not push it. She knew Y/n had her own ways to express her feelings, and she'd talk whenever she felt like it. So she let her go, making her promise she'd come to visit soon.

"Do you need a ride? I'm going to town anyway." Jensen offered, taking the keys of his car from the little plate they kept on the table beside the front door. 

"Yes, please."

The drive to her apartment wasn't a long one, and in less than ten minutes she was opening her front door and being greeted by her two beautiful cats rubbing themselves on her legs. Y/n sighed, thinking about how much she needed to unpack now that she was here. The truth was, she didn't know for how long she'd be staying here, but she figured it'd be a long time so she packed a lot. Now she kind of regretted it because she would probably be in her pajamas all day anyway. 

After cleaning Pandora and Lizzie's sandbox, Y/n decided to grab an acoustic guitar and try to come up with some melodies. She wasn't quite sure about any lyrics yet, but it was always good to have a little something to start a song. 

She went from playing the guitar to play the piano, hoping she'd get more inspirations somewhere. But she had nothing. Not even one decent note. She was empty. 

"Don't pretend is... mhmm. Think about the... No." She groaned and slammed the palm of her hands on the keyboard, growing frustrated. Why all of a sudden she couldn't even rhyme? Maybe she needed a break, or perhaps she was tired from her flight and tomorrow she'd be able to write something.

//

Turns out her writer's block was here to stay. A week has passed since her arrival and Y/n hasn't been able to finish one single song. Everything she started ended up being erased or in the middle of her living room after the ripped the page off her journal. 

"I told you, you shouldn't hurry. Inspiration will come eventually, it always does."

"I guess. I just have nothing else to do other than play scrabble with you and write songs, or at least try to."

"Let me take out then." Louise started and Y/n shakes her head. "C'mon, let's eat somewhere or buy groceries and I'll cock at your place." Y/n looked at her mom and realized she wouldn't stop until she accepted, so Y/n offered Louise a nod. "Marvelous. There's this little café that I absolutely love. You'll love the owner."

"What is it with you and the owners of local shops?"

"They're my friends. Oh! We could drop by Blossom House. You could use some flowers around your house so it would look like somebody actually lives there."

"Stop dragging me, woman."

Louise drove them to this café called Furry Cakes, which turned out to be a cat café. Y/n obviously lost it as soon as they walked in, and nearly cried when she saw all the kittens, and absolutely shed a tear when the girl behind the register said every kitty except for one named Chaster was up for adoption. She felt like a little girl all over again when her mom told her she couldn't take every single kitty home. 

Y/n was wearing a hoodie that was twice her size, plus some big sunglasses she refused to take off, even inside of the café. She was praying she wouldn't get recognized as she knew people were dying for a picture of her, see how she was after the entire world canceled her. 

"We'll leave the car parked here, the flower shop is just around the corner." Louise pulled from Y/n's hand to make her walk faster. There weren't a lot of people on the streets and she was grateful for that, she hasn't gotten a proper walk in what felt like ages. 

They stopped outside a modern-looking building with a big, bright sign that read 'The Blossom House'. It was simple yet cute. The pair stepped in and a little bell ringed. Y/n looked around, admiring how everything looked like it was straight out of a fairytale. There were little pots hanging from the ceiling and she looked up, she saw the ceiling was pure glass, which made the whole place brighter. Flowers weren't really her thing as she could barely keep them alive, but seeing this amount of flowers all in the same place... made her somewhat happy and warm inside. 

She was so deep in thought she didn't even realize her mom left her and was nowhere to be found. It doesn't look like it from outside, but the shop was actually big and very spacious. It was also empty right now, not even an employee was around, so she decided to have a look on her own. It looked like they had all kinds of flowers in here, which made her even more excited because that meant they had-

"Azaleas? They're also my favorites." A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. She jumped on her place as she wasn't expecting it, which made the person behind her chuckle. "I didn't mean to scare you, sorry."

"It's okay..." She turned around and it was fair to say that was she saw stunned her right away.

In front of her, a gorgeous looking man was standing there with a bright smile on his face. She noticed the two dimples poking at each side of his face, making his smile even more beautiful. His emerald green eyes were the greenest eyes she has ever seen in her life, she believed. He had crinkles by his eyes due to his smile being wide. But to her, the icing of the cake was the beautiful mop of chocolate curls he had on the top of his head. She suddenly felt the insane urge to run her hands through it just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

"Harry, darling!" Louise appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around the man, who only chuckled while reciprocating the greeting.

"Hello, Louise. What's it gonna be today? Tulips? More daisies?" Oh God, he's British. Y/n thought to herself. 

"Gosh, you know me so well. I'm actually here just to look around, I see you found my daughter though." She smirked.

"I surely did. I'm Harry, nice to meet you, love." He offered her a hand for her to shake.

Y/n was a little surprised by the pet name but took his hand nonetheless. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you too."

"I want her to get some plants for her house." Louise spoke again.

"Well, you're in the right place then." He said. "Do you want them for your garden?"

"No, uhm... I don't have one. I live in an apartment."

"Personally, my favorite to keep indoors are Begonias." Harry guided the two women to a different section of the flower shop and pointed to some pretty ones in pink color. "But I also enjoy Daylilies, although they're a little harder to maintain."

"Yeah, maybe not those then. I'm not very good at keeping plants alive."

"She killed a cactus once." Louise mentioned. 

"No way." 

"I didn't know they'd drown if I watered them more than once a week!" Y/n defended herself. 

"Amateur mistake." He joked. 

The truth was Y/n was too busy to have a garden, she was always traveling and didn't stay too long in one place so even if she tries to have one, it'd be dead by the end of the month. 

"What plants are cat friendly? I have two at home."

"Bromeliads are cat friendly, they're easy to maintain too."

They looked around for a little bit. Harry said a fun fact about every type of flower Y/n pointed out, never failing to make her laugh. The funny thing was, it didn't look like Harry knew who she was. Either he hasn't recognized her, or he didn't know about her. Which by the way, not to be a narcissist, would be highly unlikely.

She ended up taking a couple of new plants home, starting to grow excited about them. It was true, her apartment could use a little more life to it, and now she was sure her new plants would do that for her. Harry was wrapping everything for them while he stood behind the counter.

"Oh, here. This one's on the house." Harry handed her a pot with some beautiful blue Azaleas. She took them with a growing blush on her face, a blush that went deeper when their hands brushed with each other. "Try to not kill them though." He teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes as her mom chuckled behind her. "I'll report their aliveness back to you, you'll see."

"You better. Have a nice day, ladies. I'm guessing I'll see you around, Y/n?"

"Sure, I'm uh... I'm living here right now."

Harry smiled at them one last time before they exited the shop. After the door closed behind them, Louise turned to Y/n. "He likes you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"What do you say if we invite him for dinner sometime?"

"Like, at your house?" She asked surprised.

"Yeah, why not?"

"I have to keep a low profile, mother. For all I know he could be tweeting about I just exited his shop."

"Don't let the paranoia ruin the possibility of forming new friendships... or more." Louise sent her a wink.

"Okay, that's enough."

Y/n brushed her off, trying not to think much about it. A new friendship sounded impossible at this point of her life, let alone pursuing a new relationship with someone. She had made up her mind, she was better off being alone.

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer I

Part 01: Pick Me Up, No Headlights

series masterlist | next part

summary: It’s your first summer in the Outer Banks.

a/n: I'm so so so excited to introduce my new obx series! This whole thing is based off the song Style by Taylor Swift (which I'm sure you've picked up on lol!) This series is going to be about Rafe during HS so Summer I = the summer before 9th grade and so on and so forth. Enjoy!!

word count: 2k

The Outer Banks was a little bit like a fantasy. The way your mom talked about growing up under the North Carolina heat with her fearless twin brother, Austin, the decades-long feud between the Kooks and the Pogues, the endless summers, it all felt like a movie. There was a specific smile that snuck onto her face when she talked about the place. Their parents had moved away from OBX to the mountains while she was still in college and she’d never been back. Last September, her father's health had taken a turn for the worse and he passed away rather unexpectedly. Your uncle had suggested to your grandmother that she should move back to the Outer Banks since she was also so happy there. To the shock of everyone and your Nonna bought a house on Figure Eight, just a street over from the home your mother been raised in, and moved back to NC.

You’d flown into the tiny Outer Banks airport two days after the Fourth of July and, so far the sky had stayed crystal blue the entire week you’ve been there. It had been great to have some time with your grandmother all to yourself. The house on Figure Eight was huge; you definitely understood why she’d asked your mother if she would spare one of her three daughters to keep her company for the summer. Having the echoing house all to herself sounded glum. Your older sister was spending the summer in Italy for a college-writing program and since you know how to weaponize your middle child charm, you talked your mom into sending you to OBX rather easily.  

“Nonna,” you called down, leaning over the balcony at the top of the stairs. “I can’t find my sandals and I don’t have any other shoes to wear to the Club for lunch.” 

Your grandmother walked into the foyer and looked up at you. “y/n you know I can’t understand you when you yell from upstairs.” She turned around and walked back into the kitchen. You sighed under your breath careful that she didn’t hear you since you’d gotten in trouble for doing that yesterday. 

Your mother use to complain about the way that her mom always felt the need to act - and have her children act - so posh during her childhood but those stories seemed so strange to you. Like a Nonna from a past life, not the one you knew. However, it seemed the Outer Banks had reignited her need to act sophisticated all the time. 

You double-check your appearance in the mirror and then resigned to searching the downstairs of the house for your shoes. 

☼☼☼

Nonna was busy making small talk with some of the other ladies at the Club after lunch but you were antsy to get back to the beach while the sun was still at its peak. You had had all the polite smiling and nodding you could take in an afternoon. 

“I’m gonna- ” you pointed in the direction of the Club bathrooms and your Nonna waved her hand dismissively. You turned on your heel and headed away from her and the others. 

You pushed open the door and was surprised at the quietness. You double-checked under all the stalls to make sure no one else was in there before sitting on the counter and resting the back of your head against the mirror. You knew you were probably smudging the glass but you needed a minute from all it. 

It wasn’t that you weren’t totally in love with the Outer Banks. It was just that your mom seemed to leave out the strenuously boring parts of her childhood - the small talk, the lunches, the emphasis on class. Plus, on top of that, it seems your grandfather’s death has rattled your Nonna deeper than she cared to admit and she’d become overly cautious about everything. She was keeping a much tighter leash on you than was really needed, or so you thought. 

The door swung open and you jumped off the counter hoping whoever had just entered didn’t see you sitting atop it. The young girl stopped rummaging in her cross-body bag and glanced look to meet your gaze. She had on a green and white polka-doted dress and her dirty blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. She looked young, maybe 13 or 14 you guessed. 

“Oh. Hi!” She said. 

“Hi,” you responded. She walked over to stand next to you facing the mirror. She pulled a pink lipgloss out of her purse and ran it over her top and bottom lips before recapping it. 

“Hiding out in here?” She asked. She took your moment of hesitation as an answer. “Yeah, me too. It’s by far the best hiding place. Plus my dad can’t come into the ladies' restroom so it buys me a little time.” She laughed, seemingly at the thought of her dad barging into a women’s bathroom. She looked over at you. “Not to pry but I don’t think I’ve seen at the Club before. Just visiting?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying with my Nonna, my grandma, for the summer. I got in last week.” 

The girl smiled big. “The Outer Banks is ah-mazing. Sarah Cameron, by the way.” 

Her genuineness brought a smile to your own face. “I’m so happy to meet you, Sarah. I’m y/n. I haven’t gotten to meet a lot of other kids yet.” 

“I’m not really supposed to know this but my brother talks obnoxiously loud on the phone so it’s really not my fault for eavesdropping, but there’s a beach bonfire tonight down at the cove...it’s a Kook party spot.” She clarified after seeing the confusion on my face. “I’m sure he’d be cool with you tagging along.” Sarah reached into her bag and held out her phone. “Put your number in. I’ll pass it along to him.” 

“Thank you so much,” you said, your heart feeling warmed by this girl's kindness. 

“Yeah, of course,” she stepped forward and wrapped you in an unexpected hug before she exited, leaving the door swinging in her wake. 

☼☼☼

Your phone rang with an unknown number that afternoon around five, just after you’d gotten back from the beach. You answered the call and tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder as you finished rinsing off your sandy feet. 

Sarah’s voice filled the speaker. “Hey y/n, so I told Rafe about you and asked about the party. He said he’ll pick you at 10. Okay? Text me your address so I can give it to him.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay! Umm...one question Sarah. What do I wear to this bonfire?” You asked. 

A friendly laughed echoed through the phone. “Put your bikini under a sweatshirt and some short. You’ll be fine.” 

“Um also one more thing,” You said. 

“Sure!” Sarah replied.

“I think don’t think my Nonna would be too thrilled about me going to this party so could you ask Rafe to turn off the headlights when he get’s here. She sleeps on the first floor and I’m trying not to get caught sneaking out.” 

“Trust me, I know.” You wondered how much 13-year old could possibly know about sneaking out but Sarah was becoming your one friend on the island so you just went with it. 

“Thank you Sarah. I owe you.” 

“I think you’re gonna get along with Rafe great. Okay, talk to you later. Bye y/n!” The phone beeped as Sarah ended the call. You slipped it back into your beach bag and grabbed your towel off the ground, feeling grateful for your new friend. 

☼☼☼

Rafe had shown up at 10:03, a text from another unknown number appeared on your phone announcing his arrival. You'd climbed out of your second-story window and down the attached porch with a surprising amount of ease, only slipping once.

You'd opened the door to the black car and slipped into Rafe’s passenger seat, slight of breath.

Rafe chuckled light. "Hi," he said.

You glanced over, your eyes locking with yours and words escaped you. So Sarah has forgotten to mention her brother was hot. Like the kind of hot girls always giggled about when they passed him in the school hallway. The kind of hot he could probably get away with murder if he just flashed the cops a smile.

That same deadly smile was spreading across his face now. His tongue darted out of his mouth wetting his bottom lip.

"Hi," you squeaked out.

Rafe shifted the car into drive, still refusing to break the eye contact first.

"Should we go?" You asked, your nerves no less unsettled.

Rafe raised his eyebrow conspicuously before turning his head back to focus on the road.

The tension was already killing you and you'd spent less than five minutes together. That was the first moment you realized what Rafe was going to do to your life.

☼☼☼

Your phone pinged as you say around the little bone fire listening to the others talking about the Fourth. You were slowly starting to piece together the names and faces of the other Kooks Rafe had introduced you to.

There was Cole, Milo and Sawyer, who seemed to be Rafe's best friends. Cleo and Riley who welcomed you rather warmly. And Phoebe who had kept her eyes on you all-night in a threatening way that you had tried your best to brush off.

You pulled your phone out of your shorts pocket to see a text from Rafe on the screen.

'Wanna head out?'

You glanced at Rafe to find his eyes already trained at you. You read his text again before nodding your head yes at him.

You turned to Cleo sitting next to you. "It was nice to meet you. I think Rafe and I are gonna go."

"Oh, yeah okay!" She replied. "Wait," she pulled her own phone out of her pocket. "Put your number in. I'll add you to all our group chats. Rafe made it seem like you're gonna be around this summer so you're welcome to hang with us anytime!"

"Yeah, I'm here through August!" You said, smiling at Cleo's offer, taking the phone from her hand.

While you were typing your number into Cleo's phone, Rafe had materialized behind you.

"Thank you so much," you said handing Cleo back her phone.

"Of course!" Cleo replied, her eyes shifting away from your face to look up at Rafe. "Bye Rafe."

"See you later Cleo," he said. "Ready?" He asked looking down at you.

"Hmmhmm," you said before standing up, waving bye to the rest of the group and following Rafe back to his parked car.

"I didn't have anything to drink tonight," Rafe said as you settled into the passenger seat next to him.

"Okay," you replied, thinking back on the night but not remembering Rafe with a solo cup in his hand ever.

"Okay," he repeated back. "I just want to make sure you knew. I wouldn't ever do something that could hurt you."

"Okay," you said again, trying not to read to deep into his comment.

"What you'd think of everyone?" He asked.

"They're nice," you offered. "Different from friends back home."

"Oh, well I hope you'd keep hanging out with me...with us" he paused, quickly correcting himself.

You glanced at Rafe out of the corner of your eye, "Yeah, okay. That sounds good."

"Cool." Rafe said.

His hand on the gear shift twitched, moving the slightest inch closer toward you. You swore you could feel him wanting to grab your hand, to interlaced his fingers with yours but he didn't. His hand stayed in place, his eyes on the road watching as the headlights of the car on the opposite side of the two- lane road grew closer and closer.

Your eyes grew suddenly big with panic and Rafe looked at you with fear written all over his face as you both realized the car was plowing down the wrong side of the street. It was on your side of the road and it was going to hit you.

Rafe frantically spun the wheel trying to avoid the oncoming car but there wasn't enough time.

Your body flew forward on impact before the resistance of the seatbelt caused you to snap back. You felt Rafe’s hand hold onto yours as your eyelids closed and the world faded to black.

[orangefoxes]

Hey, so I've been trying to submit a prompt but it won't work so here it goes I know this will be sad but what if Neil gets really sad and depressed (the reason is up for interpretation ex: bullied by jack or is haunted by PTSD) and so he becomes full of self hate and becomes anorexic and cuts himself #andreil (this would mean so much since I've been through similar circumstances and was strong enough to pull through and keep living, this book and your Tumblr have helped me so much)

Hi @soph-ie21 I am so sorry this took a whopping 4 years for me to post. I’m terrible for not checking my inbox as my notifications have been turned off for tumblr since I was like 13. I’m so glad to hear that you recovered from your ED, you must be so strong and I’m so proud of you as I know how difficult that is to do. I’m hoping this is the sort of prompt you were looking for, if you’re even looking after this long, as it’s not very dialogue heavy, but here you go.

TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDER, SELF LOATHING, ANOREXIA.

When in high stress situations, to cope, the brain releases a hormone called cortisol. It’s alright in small doses, helpful even. It triggers your fight or flight response and readies the body to do something, fast. Constant exposure to the hormone however, has some not so good long term effects. Effects that include, but are not limited to: high blood pressure, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis, and, arguably the mildest, weight gain.

Cortisol results in weight gain for two reasons. The first is because it slows your metabolism, and the second is because the drop in blood sugar from constant high blood pressure means that you start craving fatty, sugary foods, which leads to overeating. Neil’s memory is not nearly good enough for him to recall what foods he had craved over the years, but he and his mother shied away from sweets and chocolate for dental reasons, it probably would have been a hardship for many kids growing up but Neil had never much cared for sugar anyway. However, what he and his mother did indulge in is a lot of fatty, fast food. Partly because it was cheap, partly because it was something they could eat while on the move, and partly because no one would look twice at two sketchy people in a Burger King or remember a beaten up old car briefly pausing in a drive thru.

While never giving much thought to how he looked (short of checking for ginger roots and the bruise on his cheek from where his mother had slapped that smile from his face), Neil does remember his weight fluctuating a lot when he was younger. The more stressful the months, the chubbier he got. It was in the quiet periods as he and his mother settled down and didn’t dare to venture into the supermarket too often that he began to lose it again. It was a cycle.

In Millport, Neil was at his lowest weight yet. There was only a solitary McDonald’s in town and Neil wasn’t about to become a regular. He stocked up on tinned food from the supermarket in his first week in town instead and meticulously made his way through them, heating the can up on the hot plate he had bought for four dollars from the thrift store in the high street.

He gained weight again once he started at Palmetto, he gained muscle mass too. This, of course, was thanks to three free meals a day and a new training regime with daily exercise. It was to be expected, but if, perhaps, he gained weight quicker than his teammates and muscle slower, well, he had bigger things to worry about.

Then he knew he was going to live.

Then everything with the Moriyamas was…well, not gone, but resolved.

That’s not to say there was nothing to stress about. There was the influx of reporters wanting to catch the Foxes’ attention to ask about Nathaniel Wesninski. There was Kevin’s impending break down as Riko’s funeral came and went. There was Aaron’s trial. Honestly it probably would have gone as stressful situations for Neil always go - here and gone just as quickly - except it turns out that Nicky cooks when he’s stressed, and Neil, well, he’s a stress eater.

After Aaron is declared innocent, Nicky resumes as normal. Neil…not quite. He’s constantly opening the cupboards to look for something to eat only to close them again when he finds nothing of interest. Without Nicky cooking, there’s nothing he can easily dig into and Neil, while accumulating many skills over the years, had never been a hand in the kitchen. The only things ready-eat that were consistently in the dorm were ramen and ice-cream. Even the thought of ramen makes Neil want to vomit and Neil wasn’t so desperate that he would resort to eating something as sweet as ice cream. Not that Andrew would let him if he did. (Andrew wasn’t a sharer).

He started to feel hungry.

He was always hungry.

The first few days he started to skip meals, he didn’t even notice he was doing it. Surely he didn’t notice he was doing it.

It’s just -

Here’s the thing.

Maybe he stress eats. Maybe his mother did too. They spent long car journeys with a family sized bag of potato chips resting by the gear stick and they spent half the time stuffing handfuls into their mouths and the other half checking the mirrors for cars that stayed behind them a touch to long. So maybe he stress ate, but it was never because of hunger: it was because of craving. It was because it gave him something to do with his hands. It was only when things quietened down, when the weeks turned long with the monotonous almost-existence that took up the majority of Neil’s life growing up (here’s something no one tells you about life on the run, in between the moments of sheer terror, it’s very very very boring), it was only then, that Neil actually began to feel things like hunger.

So when the hunger pangs began to curdle in his stomach, well, he didn’t mind. It meant he was safe enough to feel the hunger.

Maybe for the first couple of days he didn’t notice it. But then he noticed it.

He noticed enough to avoid things like rice and bread. Danger foods that packed on the calories and that made him bite the inside of his cheek until it bled at the mere thought. He noticed enough that he began to watch the others train and saw their muscles flex and couldn’t help but track their muscle growth and measure it up against his own. He always found himself lacking.

That’s when it started to get worse. If Allison spent 20 minutes on the treadmill. Then Neil would do 30. If Kevin did 40 push ups. Then Neil would do 50. If Renee had a salad for lunch, then Neil would just have a fruit pot.

The first time Andrew noticed that he skipped a meal, Neil just blinked. Being who he was, Neil didn’t do stupid things like stumble for lies and this time was no different. When Andrew asked about him not eating Neil just blinked like he hadn’t even noticed until Andrew brought it up.

He blinked and said “oh, you’re right. I got so caught up in watching exy reruns i didn’t even notice”

He said, “thanks, I’ll grab something in a sec”

Andrew breathed a scoffing breath down his nose, rolled his eyes and called him a junkie. He didn’t look at all surprised, as though Neil was only confirming what he had already guessed. Which of course is the trick all good liars employ.

Neil wondered if he would be surprised if he were to find out how impossible it would be for Neil to forget a meal time. He could never forget. All he thought about was food. It was all he thought about.

Food began to feel like it was all he cared about. Cared about more than school. Cared about more than exy. Is it terrible of him that that more than anything else feels like the worst thing?

And then, as things do, it got worse.

It turned into Neil stood in front of the mirror (looking at his body but not his eyes, never his eyes) and pinching the flesh between his fingers. Noticing every part of him that didn’t harden into muscle like the others. Noticing all the scars that had stretched strangely over a waist and thighs that are no longer as small.

He begins to peck at his food. Rip it into tiny pieces. Andrew looks down at his plate and glowers at him. Neil gives him a cheeky grin. He knows what he’s thinking. That this is just another one of those Andrew-mannerisms that Neil is taking on for himself. Like the sarcastic salutes and the blank, waiting stares. It’s so much easier to hide how little you’ve eaten when it’s all in pieces.

He didn’t know how to explain it. He just knows he needs to be thinner. He needs to weigh less. It’s not about looks. It’s never been about looks. He just needs to do this. He needs to be smaller. It will be alright then. Because then…then…

Well it will be alright then.

So here’s the thing about guilt and self loathing: they’re useless emotions. Andrew would be quick to agree. (Though Andrew is a hypocrite and is chock full of the both of them). His mother would agree too. How many times had Neil slipped poison into someone’s drink, stole from someone just as desperate, shot someone who maybe or maybe-not deserved it? And how many times after that did his mother pinch and prod at him and repeat the same mantra of “don’t you dare let guilt slow you down, you slow down and you’re dead”

Well, Mum, he’s slowed down. He slowed down so much that he’s stopped altogether and guess what? He fucking hates himself.

He replays it all in his head like a terrible loop. The boy in Switzerland that he tricked into taking his jacket so His fathers men would go after him instead. The old women he and his mother tricked into housing them and then slipped something in her tea until she slept and never woke up again. The homeless man who had broken into the house they were squatting in that Neil had shot on instinct. Seth.

Seth. Seth. Seth.

He fucking hates himself. Honestly the hunger pains kind of feel like the best thing he’s ever felt after that. The pain, the ache, he deserves it.

Then it gets worse. Then comes the worst part.

Andrew’s meds change again. The others had begun to make him irritable and he always had an energy crash by about 5pm and a terrible headache. The new ones wouldn’t be of much note as they did nothing groundbreakingly different, short of getting rid of the headaches and not sapping so much of his energy.

Except for one key side effect of the meds.

They suppressed Andrew’s appetite.

More and more Andrew is missing meals. He won’t even eat more than a tablespoon of ice cream. Neil watches him and adjusts himself to suit. He doesn’t know why, but he just can’t be eating more than him, he can’t.

The frustration he feels about Andrew’s meds soon turn to resentment. He hates that he has to watch Andrew not eat and not seem affected by it at all. Andrew lessens his exercise under Betsy’s advice and yet nothing changes. His weight stays the same. He probably even loses some thanks to the loss of muscle. Neil watches and Neil hates. He hates that if he skipped out on training he would pack on the pounds, he hates that his stomach hurt and hurts and Andrew doesn’t spare a thought on food at all.

He starts to avoid the roof. He starts to dodge Andrew’s gaze the same way he does his own in the mirror.

The next time they’re alone and Andrew leans in, more hesitant than he’s been in months, Neil jerks back and snaps “No.”

It isn’t even completely because of the resentment. The majority of it is because he feels disgusting and fat and he can’t bare Andrew touching him right now. Can’t bare him looking at him.

Andrew’s face closes off and he slides back to the other side of the couch. He’s searching Neil’s face, trying to find the misstep, trying to find what he did wrong.

Good, let him think he did something wrong.

Now that’s the resentment.

It’s immediately one of the worst things Neil has ever thought. He remembers sitting, trembling, on the roof, Andrew refusing to touch him saying “I wont be like them, I wont let you let me be”

And Neil’s trying to make him think, wants to make him feel -

Jesus Christ. He’s a piece of fucking shit.

He slams his way out of the dorm and runs and runs and runs.

He sleeps in the locker room and slumps out in the morning so he’s first in the main room for the meeting with Wymack. He sits on a chair that’s as far away from every other seat as it can get while still completing the make do semi-circle around where Wymack usually stands. When the others begin to filter in they take in his new seat, but don’t comment when they see his storming expression.

When Andrew sees him he pauses for a beat in the doorway before continuing to his usual seat on the couch. He stares at Neil blankly, but his hands are clenching and unclenching in his lap. Wymack hesitates but doesn’t say anything. The others play at being uninterested and only Aaron openly looks between Neil and Andrew with a steadyingly darkening expression.

Neil slams his locker and gets changed in the cubicles for the first time in months. He’s vicious in practice. Throwing in as many dirty moves as he can. Andrew stands in the goal and does nothing. When it’s only Wymack’s sharp whistle that stops Neil bringing his racket down on Matt’s arm when he attempts to steal the ball, Neil is benched.

He yanks off his helmet and slumps down on the bench and tries to remember how to breathe through rage.

He’s sat, pinching at the skin on his thigh, for ten minutes before Allison joins him. She holds out a breakfast bar and Neil stiffens.

“Eat, it might help you stop being such a raging asshole,” she says.

Neil takes the breakfast bar and when she doesn’t immediately leave he opens it and snaps a bit off with his fingers.

He stares down the rolled oats and nuts and grimaces at the sticky feeling of the syrup that holds them together. He feels sick.

“Are you going to eat?” Allison says.

Neil looks at her and huffs a bitter breath through his nose. A wry smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

He remembers that Allison battled bulimia for years.

You can’t lie to a liar.

She looks at his face. Concern trying to become anger that she’s trying to force to stay concern. She looks at his face and then over at Andrew, who is stood in his goal watching them as Kevin shouts at him to fucking do something already. She looks back at Neil.

“You know, relationships are hard enough without mental health problems in the mix. Seth and I were a terrible combination for many reasons and that was one them. I’m not saying it can’t be done or that it shouldn’t be done, I’m just saying it makes it so much harder. He used to try to make me eat. I hated him for that. Hated that I had to hide my own habits in my own room. One day, after he stopped me from going to purge one too many times we got into an argument. I said some disgusting things to him. The next day he was in the hospital because of an overdose. He had to get his stomach pumped. You know what the worst thing is? I don’t even remember what it is I said. I don’t know if what I did triggered him or if it would have happened anyway, but it couldn’t have helped. You’re always going to trigger each other at one point or another, it’s unavoidable. But if you know that and you don’t do anything to help yourself…well that’s when every shit thing you think about yourself starts to become true. So tell me, are you a piece of shit that’s going to drag everyone down with you, or are you better than that?”

Neil looks down at the breakfast bar. He still can’t make himself eat it.

He swallows harshly against the lump in his throat. He has to swallow two more times until he’s sure he can talk without crying.

“What’s betsy’s number?” He asks.

Allison doesn’t smile, but she nods like he’s done the right thing and pulls out her phone.

SIDE NOTE: I’d like to point out that Neil is very flawed and toxic in his thinking and Allison is harsh in what she says to him just because she’s a harsh person. If you have an eating disorder I know sometimes help and recovery seems like the worst thing in world and something you really don’t want, but please, please seek help. You can do it.

[fumingspice]

Seven Wonders

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Words: 1.7k

Note: Part 1/5

Part | 1 2

And in her eyes you could see the beauty of all the Seven Wonders

It all started with a moving truck that disrupted your music session one night. Until then it had been perfect; soft rain pelted quietly against the windowpane, influencing the way that you tapped your pen against the paper-pad in front of you that was begging to be written on. You could hear the music in everything. Cars drove along the roads nearby your apartment block despite the late hour, the wind and the sound of the tyres on the wet tarmac put your soul at ease. It was amazing.

Your creative juices flowed perfectly at this time of the night as you wrote the first few words in the final verse of your new song; the best part in your opinion- when the song came together with its final message. Perfection. Until an unnecessary-to-your-existence truck honked its horn outside your apartment. The invasive noise startled you so that the pen drew a huge line across the page.

You exhaled hard to stop yourself banging your head on the table.

You ignored the horn, assuming the driver was waiting on someone coming out. Then it went again. Your eyes darted to the alarm clock that resided between your cacti (which you had given names). The little box that read 3am sat closest to Bentlee the Bunny Ears Cactus. 3am? Who in their right mind would be making so much noise outside an apartment block at this time of night? Another honk rang in your ears and you couldn't control the urge to open your window and peer outside any longer.

A woman stood in the car park close to a G-Wagon that you hadn't seen before, assuming that was her own car. She held her suitcase in one hand and held a newspaper over her head to shield her hair from the rain, reminding you of the scene in Rocky Horror Picture Show when Janet did the same thing.

The movie comparison eased your mood so that you wouldn't be yelling the foulest obscenities at her. Not tonight at least.

"Excuse me, miss! It's really late, is there a need for the noise?" you shouted down, attempting not to contribute to the noise. The lady looked up, relieved to know she had caught someone's attention.

"I'm so sorry!" she shouted, waving at you. "Would you be able to let me in, please?"

Ah, yes, you thought. The door had often proved a nuisance to newcomers as you had to either have someone buzz you in from the other side of the door, or have your own key. You signalled a yes to her and walked quickly down the corridors and staircases, skipping two at the time the way you did when you were younger when your mother threatened to break your neck if you didn't do it yourself when you walked like this.

"Thank you so much," she ushered when she got in, smacking the rainwater off her newspaper which was now completely sodden. "I asked the moving guy to come back tomorrow because I didn't realise how much noise we would have to make. I'm so sorry for waking you, Ms-," she stuck her hand out to shake yours, which you kindly obliged to. Her hands were freezing, wet from the rain but so soft under yours.

"Y/N," you tell her, she grins.

"Y/N," she repeats, biting her tongue between her teeth as if tasting each syllable of your name as she examined the details of your face.

"Don't worry, I was up working anyway. Uhm- sorry. Your name is?"

The lady nodded, her golden locks bobbing around her shoulders. "Howard," she said "Billie-Dean Howard." You smiled back at Billie. Her lips followed the movements of your own.

"Do I know your name from somewhere, Ms. Howard?" you ask.

"Call me Billie, sweetheart. And yes, I have a TV show back in the States- I'm a medium to the stars. It hasn't really caught on in the UK or Ireland yet but I'm doing a new series on Celtic spirits, myths and legends so I'm hoping that-" she looked you up and down, her dark brown eyes met yours, lowered and stopped, then darted to your still connected hands, "- I can provoke your interests." She uttered the last three words with a seemingly different meaning as you took your hand back. Being a medium- or a psychic or whatever she was she could probably sense your slight discomfort, so she changed the subject quickly.

"Would you be able to tell me where someone called Siobhan is?" she asked, completely butchering the correcting pronunciation of the name.

"I'm sorry, Siobhan's office hours closed about six hours ago and she doesn't open up again until ten o'clock, so," you pursed your lips, unsure of what to do. You couldn't leave her here for the next seven hours, that was something- but you also didn't know or trust her. You attempted to reason yourself for the next few seconds. It wasn't like a goddamn TV personality was gonna try and steal your Ikea silverware anyway, not unless she was also a secret spoon thief.

Billie looked like she was about to give up hope and lie down on the grate to sleep when you offered her night in your apartment. "Wait, really?" she asked, her big brown eyes lit up like two golden compasses. "You're not afraid I would steal your silverware?" Her chuckle came out like a fine four-note melody. You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head.

As the pair of you walked to the elevator you chatted quietly, asking her questions about her show, what she would be doing and where she would be shooting. "I heard about a place on a peninsula not far out from here- supposed to be one of the most haunted places in Europe and it hasn't really been a spot of interest for other American mediums so I thought that maybe I should check it out." You got more of the specifics in the elevator, where she told you that she would be staying here for three months before moving on to mainland Britain. "After that," she said, "I'm gonna head on into Europe and I'll see where the wind takes me from there. I've never filmed in Asia so that's where I'll go next, maybe." Billie's words invented images of brilliance in your mind, exotic destinations, you could almost feel the warmth of the sun against your skin.

"That sounds amazing," you tell her as you glide the key into the keyhole and turn it with a flick of your wrist, Billie watching your every move. The smell of coffee and incense collided with your nose and replaced the stale smell of the apartment corridor as you stepped into your dark apartment and out of the bright corridor lights. "Wow," Billie uttered to herself, she wondered in behind you and observed the apartment carefully; taking note of the scents and the decorations. "You really like plants that you don't don't need to water." You chuckled at the comment.

"You wouldn't need to be a psychic to figure that out, Billie-Dean," you chuckled, shifting the angle of Fanta the mammillaria.

She observed you with a light smile, "they're personal to you. You've named them, haven't you?"

You turn around and nod, slightly embarrassed. Billie chuckled her adorable chuckle. "Why don't you introduce me?" she suggested.

"Well, this is Fanta, this is her brother Neptune and I bought them in Next. This is Bentlee, Tesla, Mitshubishi, Vauxwagon, Martha and Veronica. Those guys over there are all named Deborah but they have a number after their names to tell them apart- and the vines are called Mocha," you explained, blissfully unaware in the moment of how insane you probably sounded in front of the woman.

She nodded with wonder in her eyes. "Amazing."

After a few moments of silence whilst she continued to observe, you pulled out the couch and made a quick bed up for yourself; you were going to be up a while longer anyway so you would allow her to sleep in your own bed. After all, it was she who had just travelled god knows how many hours to get here.

"You're a musician?" you heard her ask from the living room while you tidied away some of your things to make it a little less messy for you.

"Jesus, you are a good medium," you admitted, walking in with your favourite pillow and dropping it on the couch. "I have to admit I was a little sceptical at first but you seem pretty-" you stopped talking when you saw her face in the softer light. The shadows illuminated her jawline and cheekbones, defining them as if someone had drawn over them to make them appear more prominent, and she stood in the reflection of the lamp so that a strip fell over her eyes, turning them a brilliant golden copper. The image of her took your breath away, it was an unusual feeling for someone to appear so utterly ethereal to you that it almost made you stop breathing for a moment. Her grin and raised eyebrow snapped you out of it. "-pretty. Uhm, pretty intuitive."

Billie didn't stop smiling, she clearly knew you were astounded by her without intending to be. "You have three bass guitars on the wall and Fleetwood Mac vinyls everywhere, I'd be concerned if a regular person could come in and not tell," she said, her cheeks blushed slightly at the attention, stretching when she yawned.

"My bedroom's in there, I'm not done working just yet and you should get some rest." you pointed to your door which you had left slightly ajar and she smiled at you thankfully. You moved out of her way so she could walk to your room, however, she stopped when she was just inches from you.

"Y/N," the touch of her fingertips grazing your forearm tingled. "Let me take you out to breakfast, or lunch or drinks tomorrow, hm? A room for a meal?" she suggested. Her eyes twinkled in a way that you had never seen before when you nodded carefully, finding it hard to refuse the offer. When she was satisfied, she shook your hand goodnight, whispered a thank you and slipped into her room for the night.

And boy did you know your search history would be full of her for the next hour.

[newtonsheffield]

hello!! thank you for all your work and I really hope your next week it better than the last!! excited for next weeks update already!! i was wondering... whether we could maybe potentially see the episode on the edwina and goose show where they get engaged?? I never expected to love them so much, or care so much, but here I am!!

TBH I also hope this coming week is better than the last. It wouldn’t wanna be much worse that’s for sure. But you know what, it’s totally fine I’m gonna get a new tattoo in a few weeks and it’s gonna be FINE! (🌷🌷)

Can we see the Episode of the Eddie and Goose show where they get engaged? Are you sure you wanna? It’s preeetty cute? Honestly, I just love them, your honour.

Play the theme song: 🎶Eddie and Goose. Eddie and Goose! Two little sunshine kiiiiids🎶

Matthew Bagwell was nervous and reasonably, why should he not be? This was, arguably going to be the most important day of his life, so far if this went well, he told himself. He had been planning it for weeks now, hiding the box from Edwina had proved a little more difficult than he’d anticipated. She’d looked a little affronted when he’d said, rather panickedly Honey what are you doing?! You shouldn’t be doing my laundry!  When she’d gone to put his neatly folded socks away, her eyes wide But I always do your socks. He’d gotten her mother’s blessing, gotten her sister’s blessing, even squared up to her terrifying brother in law Anthony who had eyed him irritatedly and said IF she says yes, you can marry her. But she might not. This had, of course, earned him a swift slap to the back of the head from Kate. And Matthew was sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Edwina, She was smart, and strong, and the kindest person he knew and every time she smiled at him his heart threatened to pound out of his chest, and even though they’d only been together seven months he was sure. He was ready for this, and all he had to do was forget his lunch. 

“Matt, Babe, Don’t forget your lunch!” Edwina had called out for the third time as he’d tried to sneak out, leaving a kiss on his cheek, pushing his hair back from his eyes, the ring box burning hot against his leg, sweat beading on his forehead. “You look so handsome today.” She said lightly as she walked back towards the bathroom. And Matthew thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest, and he couldn’t help himself.  “Edwina!” He said catching her attention, she turned back to him her eyebrows raised, still in her pyjamas, “I love you!” And her smile was so beautiful when she said  “I love you too, Babe. Now get to work!”And she’d continued on her path, leaving him smiling after her ridiculousy.

“Matt, I reminded you three times! How did you forget your lunch?” Edwina’s voice laughed through the phone. And Matthew forced himself to stay calm, as though his plan wasn’t working perfectly. “Ugh, sorry babe, guess I’m a little hopeless.” He said lightly, his heart pounding, waiting for her next comment. “You, are very lucky I love you, I’m bringing it over, we can eat together.” Edwina said, clicking her tongue and Matthew could see her so clearly in his mind’s eye, smiling happily he eyes shining as she got into her car.  “I am pretty lucky to have you, Yeah.” Matt said softly and Edwina laughed, the noise sending his heartbeat thundering again.  “You really are trying to butter me up today aren’t you? It’s working beautifully by the way, if you play your cards right you’re in for a very lucky night. I’ll be there in about 30. I love you!” 

And of course, Matthew had sprinted downstairs, getting himself in position, pacing a little to keep himself calm. Dawn at the front desk giving him a little thumbs up every now and then. It’s going to be fine. Matthew told himself You’re just going to ask her a question. You love her, She loves you. She does, She tells you all the time and she wears the sweaters your Mum makes and she paints mugs with you and she smiles like the sun. You’re just going to ask her a question What’s the worst that could happen?! Ignoring the voice in his head as he jumped out from around the corner startling the wrong woman She could break your heart.  

And then, he could hear a familiar voice humming tunelessly, hear familiar footsteps around the corner and he sunk down on one knee. Waiting. He saw her walk round the corner, light from the windows streaming in, reflecting off her beautiful face as she tapped away on her phone, the Indiana Jones tin lunchbox she’d bought him in her hand. And she didn’t notice him, jostling right into him. His lunchbox hitting him square in the face. Edwina startled her eyes wide. “Oh my god, I’m so- Matt?” She said bemusedly, her eyes wide. “Babe, what are you doing on the floor?” She took a step back and her eyes widened even further as she took in his posture, on one knee, holding tightly to a ring box that might as well be his heart outstretched towards her. “Oh my god.” She gasped, her hands covering her mouth her eyes shining, shock written all over her face.

And Matthew felt himself panic, this wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for. Had he misread everything? Oh god, had her sighing happily at Gregory Bridgerton’s Wedding last week not been a sign that she wanted to get married? Should he stand up? What a disaster! People were watching them now, including several of his coworkers! Jesus Christ What-

“Matt, Babe, are you...? Do you... maybe have something you want to ask me?” Edwina said gently and his eyes snapped to hers, there were tears shining there now, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her eyebrows raised in a gently Go on  expression and God he’d never wanted anything more in his life than to be this woman’s husband. 

He forced himself to take a deep breath, opening the ring box finally, the Sapphire glinting in the bright light, and he heard Edwina gasp slightly. “Edwina, Seven months ago today, I was having the worst day and then I walked around this corner right here and there you were and I couldn’t breathe. Because you were so beautiful, and funny and smart, and by the end of the day I was pretty sure you were just... taking pity on a nerdy guy who couldn’t stop staring at you.” Edwina let out a watery chuckle, her fingers raking through his hair. And Matthew had to clear his throat so dislodge the lump there  “But you stood just outside a week later and yelled at me for not calling you and I’m pretty sure that’s the moment I fell in love with you. And I know we haven’t been together very long but Eddie, I promise if you say yes I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me every day. So, Edwina Sarah Sheffield, Will you marry me?” The question hung between them in the air, Edwina tears rolling down her cheeks, and Matthew could feel something rolling down his own face as well. 

“Matthew, I would be so proud to call myself your wife.” Matthew could feel his heart beating out of his chest, and he barely had time to blink before his fiancée had grabbed him by the sweater tugging him firmly up until their lips met. And it tasted like forever.

This was a really long episode and I’m sorry!  

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Californian Dream (Pt. 05 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

<- Previous part (04)

Next part (06) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Rebel

On the next morning, you're still feeling a little anxious, afraid of what he said last night was just to keep you from moving out. But, since you were sleeping on the couch, you woke up just when he was leaving for work, and you were so relieved when he didn't just say ‘good morning’ and left. He asked if you slept well, and said that you can try and sleep a little more on the bed now. It's just a little thing, but it's different from before. And you hope it lasts. You also got the chance to tell him not to bring anything for dinner. He has been spending too much money with that, so you told him you'd cook something yourself.

And that's what you doing now. The chicken breasts are in the oven, almost ready and you focus on finishing the potato salad, adding mayo, a drizzle of olive oil, and seasoning it, mixing everything together. You're happy with what you could come up with, and it did help you pass the time since there's nothing to do here other then watch the news, and that only makes you anxious. After checking the chicken once again, you sit on the table, pinning your hair up on a ponytail, and that's when Billy comes back, your eyes immediately finding him on the door as he closes it shut.

“Hey.” You mumble, running your fingers through the ponytail. For the first time, you notice the uniform he has to use. A nice, black polo shirt with the logo of the company on the left side. On all of those days, you were avoiding looking at him, since he seemed like he didn't want anything to do with you. “You look like such a good boy in this shirt.” You know he doesn't usually wear stuff like that. Billy doesn't know it, but you went through his wardrobe a couple of times, and there is nothing like that that shirt in it.

“That's company policy.” He sounds a little annoyed, and you can tell he doesn't like to wear it. “It smells nice in here. What are you doing?”

“Lemon roasted chicken with potato salad.” You gesture at the oven. “It's almost done.”

“You... Can cook?” Furrowing his eyebrows, Billy comes near the table, giving the oven a look. “Like, actually cook?”

You get what he means. The girls don't usually know how to cook since they'll always have someone to do that for them. “Well, in my house, my parents always choose what we'll have for the meals. So I figured out if I wanted something different, I'd have to cook it myself.” Shrugging your shoulders, you stand up to check the oven again. “So Amelia taught me everything I know.”

“You're a box full of surprises,” Billy mutters, so low it makes you wonder if he wanted you to hear it. “I'll shower. If you wait we can eat together.”

“If it's not in an uncomfortable silence, I'll accept the invitation.” Leaning on the countertop, you give him a look.

“Good.” He stands there for a few seconds before moving away, and you can't help but try to understand why he always does that. It feels like he wants to say something, but he never does.

You patiently wait, and when he comes back, hair still damp, you both serve yourselves and take the usual seats on the table, across from each other. Billy takes a look at his place and squints his eyes, right before staring at you. “(Y/N)?”

“Huh?”

“Where did you get these peas?”

You didn't think he'd notice. “Uhm... There's a nice grocery store just around the corner.” It sounds like a question, but before he can say anything you raise a hand. “I know, I know. But I do look different and I borrowed your sunglasses just to be sure. I didn't speak to anyone... Well, I did chat with this old lady, but that was it.”

“You gotta be careful. I know it's far from your neighborhood, but even so.”

“I was careful, I just... It sucks being in here all day doing absolutely nothing.” You didn't want to rant about it, but it just comes out. “And, inevitably, I will watch the news channel.” Then, you're not hungry anymore... Despite skipping lunch again.

“Did they find anything yet?” Silently, you just shake your head no, deciding to push the food in, even though the heavy sensation on your stomach. “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize, it's not your fault.”

Then the silence hits again, and it goes on for way too long for your taste, a leg bouncing nervously. “It's really good, by the way. Much better than what I can come up with.”

“Thanks,” you mutter with a smile.

“I've been meaning to tell you. I usually go to the gym with some friends a couple of times a week. I've been coming straight back because–”

“No, no. Please, go. I don't want to mess with your routine. More than I already did.” Reassuring him, you feel relieved when he nods. “Oh, you mentioned something about college. What do you study?”

“Marine Biology.”

“That's so cool.” You exclaim, imagining what Billy could work with. California has a lot of opportunities for marine biologists. “I bet it's amazing.”

“It is. What about you?”

“It's not that cool.” Warning him, you can't help but feel bored just to think about it. “Law. At Cali's Elite Academy, obviously.”

“It doesn't sound like you enjoy it very much.”

“I don't.”

“Then why do you do it?” As he speaks, Billy moves to the fridge, muttering something when he opens it. And you know why. “You also bought soda.”

“Yup.” Turning towards him, you take the can he offers you, cracking it open and taking a sip. “You know why I do it. Mom wanted me to, father is a lawyer already, so you get the picture.”

“I hope to be around on the day you decide you had enough of this shit and rebel against everyone who tells you what to do,” Billy says as he goes back to his chair, his eyes focused on you. Sometimes it feels his eyes can see right through you, even the parts you try to hide from yourself. The places you rather keep secret, locked deep inside. He also brings to life things you didn't even know existed. A true need to break free from everything you can't take anymore, everything that has been drowning you, suffocating you.

“Maybe it won't happen.” You burst out, pushing your plate away, still half full. “You said it yourself on the night I came here. I'll probably just slip into anything my mother wants me to do and be as frustrated as she is. With nothing in life but some millions in the bank.” There's a lump in your throat, a cry you're holding back. You don't want to be like your mother. Or like anyone else from her circle. But would you be able to shake this away? You're so used to doing this, avoiding conflicts and being the good, obedient daughter... Could you be more?

“Don't you remember what you said after?” Billy leans forward, elbows on the table, those ocean blue eyes burning through your skin. “That you'd leave California before she forced you into being another stupid girl pushed into a loveless marriage just to add up to the family's fortune.”

“I remember.” Whispering, you look down at your hands, hoping he can't see your teary eyes. “I get brave when I'm sleepy, that's why I say those things but... I'm not sure I'd be brave enough to just leave like that.”

“I came back here a year ago. My father forced me to move to Hawkins, Indiana, a dipshit small town that I hated more than anything.” His words and the weight behind them makes you raise your eyes again, meeting his stare. Billy never told you anything about his past, and you want to hear it. “I have no good memories of that place, and the moment I turned eighteen and got my High School diploma, I got into my car and left.” There's power in him, courage. You know there's more to the story, but you won't push him into sharing it if he doesn't want to. But you can picture it, Billy running away from somewhere he hated, hitting the road and leaving it all behind. You're mesmerized by it, you're not sure why. “And I came back here. I came back home.”

“California never felt like home to me.” That you remember saying. “I... I really wish I had a place where I could feel–”

“Free?” Billy finishes off for you, and you nod. “I don't think California is the problem. I think–”

“Me. I'm the problem.” Crossing your arms, you sigh. You have no idea why you're telling him all this, or how he so skillfully stormed through your walls, but you feel like Billy is the only person who can understand. Who won't think you're stupid or crazy. “I feel so... Lonely and desolated, even when I'm in my bedroom. I feel better when I'm at the beach, all alone than when I'm in the comfort of my bed. I know it's insane, but it just... It's just what it is. Of course I wish I could run away like you, but maybe I can't.”

“It's not from California you have to run away, it's from this person you pretend to be just to please everyone.” Billy stands up, taking both your plates and moving to the sink. But you stay there, motionless, thinking how you could do that.

“Tell me how and I'll do it.”

“Be the girl you were at the party.” He says, and you decide to stand up as well to help him with the dishes... But also because you want to be near him as if he's the only one who could help you do this. What exactly, you don't know. But Billy was brave enough to do something you wish you could. “The girl who doesn't care if her company is just the pool guy, who doesn't care if she almost hits a waiter, and doesn't mind having to suck some chocolate off her thumb.” Billy glances at you, and you start taking the dishes and drying them with a dishcloth. “The girl who ran from a very important beneficial gala and was very happy about it.”

“Yeah, but if you weren't there, I would never do that.”

“I might have given you a little push, but you made the decision.”

You'd never take Billy for the guy who would say these things. By what people told you about his behavior, you'd never think he'd be this... Kind. “Are you always this nice with girls?” Trying to light up the mood after the emotional conversation, you ask him, chuckling.

“No, I'm not.” He passes you the last fork, and you dry it and put it on the drawer. “Definitely not.”

“I get it.” Lying the dishcloth down, you shrug your shoulders. “Guess some girls like the bad boy.”

Billy giggles, taking the dishcloth to dry his hands. “What about you? Good boy or bad boy?”

“A guy like you would be nice.” Wait. What? It takes a couple of seconds for you to process what you just said, and what it means. “Uhm... I'll... I'll organize some of my stuff.” You quickly manage to say, turning your back at him and leaving the kitchen.

When you reach the bedroom, you shut the door behind your back, wondering what the hell just happened to you. It's completely out of question to start liking Billy. You're literally living with him for who knows how long, it would complicate things to such a high level that you would really have to move out. You're already too lucky he doesn't bring girls here, but out there... Suddenly, the names Gisele gave you start flashing through your mind, and you groan, throwing yourself on the bed.

“Don't be stupid.” You mutter, pulling the sheets over your head and expecting a calm, dreamless night.

• • •

Before, you were anxious. Worried. Now, you're just angry. Another week has passed, and nobody knows anything. A bunch of people were abducted, in huge black vans, and nobody knows where they went. It's plain stupid by now. You're already up when Billy opens the bedroom door to shower and change for the day, and you move to the living room, putting on the news channel again and letting yourself fall on the couch. The boredom won't help either. Besides going to the grocery store, you're locked in here, doing absolutely nothing other than housework.

You're by the window when Billy comes out, already in the company uniform. Turning around with your arms crossed, you stare at him. “We gotta talk because I'm losing my mind.”

“Does it has to be now? Because if I don't leave in five minutes I'll be late.”

Then, the best idea you ever had in days comes to your mind. “Take me with you.”

“What?” He bursts out, eyebrows furrowed.

“Take me with you. Where are you going today?”

“William's. The mansion by the cliff.”

“They don't know me very much, my parents hate them. Please, take me with you. I can't stand being in here all day.” Walking over him, you grab his hand. “C'mon, Billy. I can help with something.”

“I don't think it's a good idea.” He looks down at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “If anyone recognizes you it could be dangerous. Everyone thinks you were taken too.”

“See? Nobody will hope to see me hanging around.”

“(Y/N)...”

“I swear to God if you don't take me I'll head to the beach and stay there until sunset.” It wasn't a plan, but now it is. Stepping back, with both your hands on your hips, you wait for Billy's reaction.

“Is it a threat?”

“I don't make threats, only promises.” Shrugging your shoulders, you cross your arms. “So?”

“You have three minutes to change out of these sweatpants.” He's still speaking when you're moving, quickly taking your pj's off and putting the first thing you find. Short jeans and a black T-shirt that's a little bit similar to Billy's. Not so much, but it's the best you can do.

When you're back in the living room, dramatically putting Billy's sunglasses on, you rush through the door when he opens it, more than eager to spend the day somewhere other than in the apartment.

And, as if on purpose, Billy takes one of the most beautiful roads of California. At least in your opinion. On your side, you can see the ocean, and since the waves here are more violent, the beach is empty, except for some surfers. Billy has the windows open, and the wind messes with your hair. But you like it. Closing your eyes, you stretch your arm out, feeling the wind brushing in between your fingers. Maybe it's the speed, or the daylight, or the fact that you're finally outside after weeks of confinement. Maybe it's the company... But this feels good. Almost overwhelming. There's a smile on your face that doesn't look like it's leaving anytime soon, and for the first time in... Since you can remember, you have no worries. You allowed the wind to carry them all away.

“I forgot how beautiful this place is.” You tell Billy, holding your hair out of your face so you can look at him.

“Beautiful.” He says, his eyes on you instead of on the ocean outside the window. You squint your eyes, just about to ask what he's looking at when he clears his throat, eyes on the road again. “But we're almost there. Look.”

Some miles away you see the William's house. Huge, way bigger than yours, built by the cliff, which gives them an amazing view of the ocean.

A few minutes later, you're being guided inside by one of their employees. There's nobody home, and by what the old man said, they'll only be back by nightfall, when you and Billy will be far away. So there's no danger. You're taken to the pool, and Billy starts moving around.

“What do I do?” You ask, taking a look at the enormous pool. It's so big it has an isle in the middle. The last time you came here, you were a kid, and you didn't remember it to be so big.

“I'll start with emptying the pool skimmer.” He looks around and then points at the skimmer net. “Think you can get rid of those leaves floating?”

“Yup.” Moving to get the skimmer, you start with your task.

As you move around the pool, catching the leaves and placing them on a plastic canvas Billy lied on the deck, you notice him giving you a few glances. But you only know that because you're also staring every now and then, as he comes and goes from the supply closet. Soon enough, you get so nervous about it that you can't help but giggle as you walk to the plastic canvas, dropping some more brown leaves on it. Since he's coming your way, you wait there, using the pole to sustain some of your weight, your free hand on your hip.

“Getting tired, princess?” Billy mutters in a mocking tone, and you roll your eyes. “Still half of the pool to clean.”

There's that pet name again, and at the very mention of it, you feel something on your stomach, like tickles. “I'm alright so far.” You mumble, hoping you're not blushing. As soon as he walks by, you resume your task.

The truth is that you're very tired already, and the skimmer is heavy. And the wind starts blowing the leaves all around, which makes you walk around the pool too many times. It's past 1 pm when Billy is over, and you decide not to get the four leaves left in the water.

“Let's go.” He says, and you get up from the wooden bench you've been seated for the last five minutes after he locked the supply closet, following him.

“I'm starving.” You mumble, letting your hair down from the ponytail as you get into the car again. “Where do you usually have lunch?”

“In a restaurant associated with the company. Which means employees don't pay.” He glances at you. “And I guess you didn't bring any money, so...”

“I would have if you told me that.” Pulling the door close, you take a deep breath. “Just buy me an ice cream and I'll be fine.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I'm fine. You did the hard work.” You buckle up when he speeds away, once again hitting the road. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath when you feel the fresh wind on your face. “What are you doing next?”

“Got a fancy car to fix.”

“Uhm...” Opening your eyes again, you look at Billy's side, taking in the beach. It's completely empty now. But your eyes wander to Billy. In this perfect light, he looks amazing. Breathtaking. His grip on the wheel is loose, and he has a hand out the window, looking carefree. Billy loves this place, you can see it on his eyes, on his posture. He's home. “Do you think we have a few minutes to spare?”

“What for?”

“I just wanted to take a walk on the beach. But it's ok if you can't.” Looking away, you focus on the road ahead. But Billy is slowing down, pulling over to the side of the road. Biting your lip, you wait for him to stop before stepping out of the car. You're already crossing the road when you notice Billy is still in the car. So you stop, turning to look at him from the middle of the road. “Hey! Aren't you coming?”

“It sounded like you wanted some alone time.”

“I had plenty of alone time in the apartment.” Rolling your eyes, you gesture for him to come. “Let's go.” Reaching out your hand, you smile when he leaves the car, patiently waiting for him. You were just about to put your hand away when he takes it, rushing you to move since there was a car coming that you didn't see. It makes you giggle a little, your other hand coming to hold on to his forearm. “Seriously, you have to stop saving my life.”

“Then stop putting your life in danger.” It takes a little too long for him to let go of your hand, your fingers brushing against each other.

“I'll try.” When you get to the edge of the road, you don't see any steps leading to the sand. Only a rock that someone placed here to offer some help, but it's still a little too high for you. “Isn't it a buzz killer?”

“I'll help you.” Billy easily jumps to the sand, not even using the rock. “Come.”

“If I fall, I swear to God...” Sitting on the edge, you try calculating if you could just jump to the ground.

“You won't fall. C'mon.” Billy comes to stand right in front of you, both his arms raised to catch your fall.

Taking a deep breath, you push yourself forward, closing your eyes on the process, so you only feel when you collide with Billy. His hands are quick to hold your waist, sustaining your weight, and not allowing you to reach the ground. The sudden change makes you open your eyes, and you immediately take in how close you stand. His face is only three inches apart, and as he pulls you down, you hold tightly on his biceps. Billy's eyes are locked on yours, and even after you're safe on the ground, he doesn't move. His hands remain on your waist, his face still close enough to kiss, if only you were brave enough to stand on your toes. Your stomach feels funny, and your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest.

But a car passing by snaps you out of it, and you both move at the same time, stepping back.

“Sorry.” You mutter, clearing your throat. “But thanks for not letting me fall.”

“I told you I wouldn't.”

×

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23

[cultofbeatles]

parts of pattie boyd’s book wonderful tonight that involved george that stuck out to me:

pattie didn't have any of the beatles records at first and only bought please please me since she was going to be in their film 

“on first impressions, john seemed more cynical and brash than the others, ringo the most endearing, paul was cute, and george, with velvet brown eyes and dark chestnut hair, was the best looking man i’d ever seen.”

during a lunch break pattie and george sat next to each other and were both very shy 

george asked pattie “will you marry me?” and after she laughed he said, “well, if you won't marry me, will you have dinner with me tonight?” and she turned him down.

she deadass invited george to hang out with her and her boyfriend at the time.

pattie and george are both pisces.

once reshoots for the film were happening george asked pattie about her boyfriend, she said she had dumped him, and george once again asked her for dinner. she accepted this time.

brian epstein joined them for their first date.

they sat side by side and were too scared to even hold the others hand.

george got along great with pattie’s family.

pattie liked cynthia lennon but found her difficult to make friends with. 

“she wasn't like my friends, who enjoyed a giggle and some fun: she was rather serious, and often, i thought, behaved more like john’s mother than wife.”

there was a rumor that john and pattie were having an affair and pattie worried cynthia believed it. it wasn't true.

maureen cox (ringo’s girlfriend) was another beatles girl that pattie had a hard time being friends with. but said that she was “jolly and friendly, more relaxed than cynthia.”

pattie got along best with jane asher but saw her the least.

“i felt there was definitely a north-south divide among the wives and girlfriends. and i had the definite impressions that the girls from the north (maureen and cynthia) felt they has a prior clam to the boys.” okay shade, we see you. 

(talking about going on holiday with john, cynthia, and george) “it was a good way to split the group. john and paul were the closest in some ways and immensely creative together, but they clashed if they were in each other’s pockets for too long.”

george asked pattie to cut his hair while on holiday and one of the cleaners found his hair and kept it. 

(talking about george) “he was so beautiful and so funny.”

once a “weird looking man” tried to force his way into pattie and george’s house. pattie thought he was either a salesman or a jehovahs witness. it turns out it was paul in disguise. 

george said the only place he got peace was in the bathroom of his hotel suite.

pattie got a lot of letters saying that if she didn't leave george there would be a curse put on her.

 pattie’s cleaner was a male ballet dancer and “a terrific duster.”

pattie would count the days till george came back. once he jumped into the bed early in the morning to wake her up. 

those two would deadass not lock their doors and were surprised that clothes were going missing...what is with older generations and not locking their doors i -

george would be in the studio from 11 am - 11 pm. sometimes midnight. 

george’s mom loved when john would visit and would always ask him for an “upper.”

when john lennon is your drug dealer.

pattie wasn't a good cook but was optimistic.

“i loved listening to him (play guitar), loved the sound of the guitar in the house. sometimes i would start to talk and he'd be so deep in thought about the lyrics or the melody he was writing that he wouldn't answer. we’d be the same room but he wasn't really with me: he was in his head.”

pattie developed a kidney disorder.

(talking about the beatles dynamic) “in many aspects they were still children. they had few real friends apart from each other, and when they were asked questions they could answer as one - they were so much on each other’s wavelength. if one went to a gallery opening, they all went; if one bought a new car or new house, they all did. if one seemed in danger of taking himself too seriously, the others knocked it out of him.”

one evening george stopped the car and said, “let’s get married. i'll speak to brian.” they went to brian’s house, george went inside, and when he came back in the car he said, “brian says it’s okay. will you marry me? we can get married in january.”

briannnnnnn, is it my turn to get married yet pleaseeeee

pattie invited her absent father to their wedding but he did not come.

at the train station everyone left cynthia behind as she was carrying the suitcases and john was carrying nothing. peter brown had to go back and get her. 

pattie’s quote from the lsd in the coffee moment is hilarious to me. “you've just had lsd. it was in the coffee.” john lennon: “how dare you fucking do this to us?”

pattie and george didn't go to brian’s funeral in liverpool but george sent one single sunflower.

pattie stopped modeling because george didnt like it. and she felt like she lost a part of herself.

maureen was afraid of flies.

during the India trip, mia farrow told john that maharishi was inappropriate with her and john wanted everyone leave after that.

after India george and pattie’s relationship changed.

(talking about george) “some days he would be all right, but on others he seemed withdrawn and depressed. this was new: he had never been depressed before, but there was nothing i could do. it wasn't about me, but i found that my moods started to mirror his...so bad indeed, that at times i felt almost suicidal. i don't think i was ever in any real danger of killing myself, but i got as far as working out how i would do it: i would put on a diaphanous ossie clark dress and jump off beachy head.”

george became more obvious about his cheating. it hurt pattie.

george was gaslighting her.

cilla black was staying at george and pattie’s house and was uncomfortably close to george so pattie left. six days latter george called to tell her the girl was gone and she could come home.

“..but my ego was too fragile and i couldn't see it as anything other than betrayal. i felt unloved and miserable.”

“jane asher came home unexpectedly from new york and found another woman in the house, an american girl - and did what i should probably have done with george...”

george would start to talk about his feelings about paul or john but would stop bc he never wanted to admit that he felt left out. 

“we had once been so close, so honest and open with each other. now a distance had developed between us..”

(about yoko contributing to the beatles break up) “the four had never allowed anyone into the recording studios with them, but yoko not only sat by john throughout every session, he consulted her about the music they were making, which upset paul.”

during the let it be sessions there was a time with george and paul got in a fist fight and george left.

the same day john told George he was leaving the beatles, george’s mom told him she was ill and in critical condition.

i love that she vibe checked george. “he was bringing home bad vibes.”

george continued cheating and they continued arguing.

“my diary is full of entries about my unhappiness and the disintegration of our relationship.”

john came to visit george and pattie’s new mansion and said that it was so dark he didn't know how they could live in it, and george recommended that he took of his sunglasses.

eric clapton being a piece of shit and saying “if you won't be with me pattie i will become addicted to heroin.”

pattie said the only thing she had left was cooking and george took that away.

the couple was suppose to go on holiday together but george cancelled last minute bc he didn't want to go with her. he ended up going to spain.

“when i challenged him, he denied it and tried once again to make me feel as though i was paranoid.”

i'm not even...the whole fucking story of the george and maureen affair PISSES ME OFF more than i can describe. maybe i’ll make a whole other post but omfg i'm fuming. fuck them bothhhh. they deserve no rights.

george harrison, mere days before their wedding anniversary: “let’s get a divorce this year.” what an amazing new years resolution jerk.

ringo offered pattie a job.

when george told ringo about the affair pattie was so mad she dyed her hair red. 

george loved pattie’s little brother and was his role model but he wouldn't come to the man’s wedding even though he was invited.

the night pattie told george she was leaving him george came to bed in sadness and said, “don't go.”

“i'm going.”

george invited pattie to dhani’s eighteenth birthday party bc she “had to be there. she was family.”

george had become more of an older brother to her now.

pattie had learned about john’s death from eric clapton and immediately went to the beatles office in london to hang out with everyone there.

(after finding out about george’s death) “i couldn't bare the thought of a world without george. when i left him for eric, he had said that if things didn't work out, ever, i could always come to him and he would look after me. it was such a selfless, loving, generous thing to say and it had always been tucked away at the back of my mind. now that sense of security had gone.”

the last time they saw each other was when george called saying he wanted to visit her new cottage and see her.

pattie didn't go to his funeral nor did she go to the memorial concert that took place a year later. but she spent that day high on the mountains thinking of george. “i was happy to mourn him alone and in my own way.”

she would have dreams of george after his death. “oh george, it’s so wonderful that you are alive after all, this is so fabulous; i knew they had all made a mistake.”

and then she’d wake up.

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Lonely

Henry notices you’re lonely after moving out to the country with him, but he has a surprise under his sleeve.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Word Count: 2,627

Warnings: FLUFF! Fluffy puppies, fluffy Henry, etc. 

A/N: I had this idea and HAD to write it down. I hope you love it just as much as I do! 

-

           “Are you sure you’re alright? I really can just ask for them to switch scenes and…” Henry started when he saw you sitting on the floor of the den, Kal’s head in your lap as you rubbed behind his ears.

           “I’m fine,” you insisted. “You two go. You’ve been here long enough.” You and Henry had finally bought your own place together – you’d sold his old house in Kensington for a small farm. It was gorgeous – it was a few acres in every direction, an old but gorgeous house, and stables for Henry to live his best horse boy life. It was definitely a little bit more responsibility, but it had so much room for Kal to run around and it had extra bedrooms for when you and Henry would have a family of your own. You loved living out there. The only con was that Henry had to leave an extra half an hour early just to get back to the studio they were filming the Witcher at. You’d moved in two weeks ago and this was supposed to be his first week back on set.

           “Alright. If you insist,” he sighed. “Can you get Kal’s bag ready?” You nodded and stood up, earning a small whine from the dog who just wanted his mum to pet him. You walked over to the hutch by the door, one that you’d brought from Henry’s old house, and started packing up Kal’s toys, wipes for his eye boogers, and a small jar of peanut butter that Henry usually filled a toy with to keep him busy while Henry was on set.

           You put Kal’s harness on him by kneeling down and putting it over his head. You sighed when his face hit your arm and reached up to scratch his ear again.

           “I know, buddy, I’m gonna miss you too,” you said in the voice you reserved for just him. The black and white and brown dog pawed at you as you started to hook his leash to the red harness. You didn’t realize that Henry heard you, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He hated leaving you, and normally you worked from home so you were able to go to set with him and with Kal. But the house was a lot more responsibility now, so you needed to be there as much as you could. You could come with Henry maybe once or twice a week, if even that, especially now that you had horses that needed to be taken care of every so often during the day.

           “Alright. Kal, car!” Henry made a kissing noise as he pointed toward the door, opening it, and the dog disappeared through the crack in the door and out to the car. Henry put a hand on your waist and tugged you toward him, leaning down and kissing your lips. He was wearing your strawberry chapstick, you noticed, probably because it was on the vanity and it was so cold outside that his lips would get chapped before he even got to set.

           “Have a good day,” you said sweetly.

           “You too. Let me know if you need anything, love, and I’ll come home. I promise.”

           “I’m fine, Hen. Go film your show.” He gave you a soft smile.

           “I love you.”

           “I love you, too.” You stood on your toes and kissed his clean-shaven face, smelling the Lynx aftershave he always used. And then he turned and left the house, taking Kal’s bag with him. You were alone.

           The first part of the day was fine – you checked on the horses, even braided one’s mane because you were a little bored, and then took a walk around the house to take care of the garden. You had to admit that you were lonely in the gigantic farmhouse alone, but that was mostly because of the size. You were sure you would get used to it eventually.

           Henry called you during his lunch break and told you what had been going on so far, but that only made you feel more alone when FaceTime hung up and left you alone. You desperately wished there was a dog at your feet keeping you warm or Henry sniffling in the corner, highlighting his scripts. You looked behind you in the office you two shared, looking at his desk, and grabbed his cashmere blanket to use.

           Henry was finally home late that night, and after making himself an extremely late dinner he came and joined you in bed. He pulled you into his chest and shut the bedroom light off right after the shower shut off in your bathroom. You smelled the aftershave from that morning, but there was a hint of the chamomile tea he drank on his breath mixed with his toothpaste.

           “How was the house?” He asked you. You put an arm around his waist and cuddled into his bare, slightly damp chest.

           “A little lonely,” you admitted. “I think it’s just because it’s bigger. And we have all these empty bedrooms. And I miss Kal…” Your voice trailed off. “But I love it. It’s just a little lonely.”

           That wasn’t the first time you’d expressed how you felt to him – the loneliness started when you were packing up the old house while he was working. You missed him when he was gone. You were both notoriously clingy, especially toward each other, and most of the time you even traveled with him. You wanted to be around each other, all the time. That was just how your relationship was – your language toward each other was physical touch.

           “What if I told you I might have something that’ll help?” He asked. You felt the vibrations in his chest and shut your eyes, relaxing at the sound of his voice.

           “And what would that be?” You asked.

           “That, darling, you’ll have to find out this weekend.” You giggled and settled down, hoping that he wasn’t just messing with you. “Alright. Good night, love.” You turned away from him and he adjusted, putting his chest against your back, and tugged your duvet up toward your chin so you would be warm.

           You woke up the next day and he was already gone. You started your routine again, but you had to make a run into town for groceries. That really reminded you of how alone you were – you’d only been out to the town two or three times, all with Henry, all laughing and talking the whole time. You put your AirPods in and listened to a podcast to feel a little less alone, but as soon as you got into the house to unload everything, the feeling returned.

           It was just making you feel depressed, more than anything. You missed your person. You missed your pup. You hated the silence so much that you turned the TV on just to keep you company. You nearly jumped with joy when Henry pulled into the driveway, just in time for dinner, and you sat up like a child while he talked, eyes wide, wanting to hear everything about his day.

           “Will you give me a hint?” You asked, trying to figure out what Henry’s solution could be. You were thinking either another horse or a new car or maybe that they were transferring to a closer studio, but you really had no idea. And by the way Henry looked at you and ran his fingers through his curly hair and grinned, you had a feeling that it was something good.

           “No. Not at all. You’ll just have to see tomorrow.” You sighed and crossed your arms, letting him clean up as you started to get ready for bed.

           You woke up bright and early, nearly dragging Henry out of bed, and he finally just told you to get in the damn truck before he lost his mind. He took you out for tea and shopping, probably just to pass some time, but instead of heading back toward the house he went to the other town. You looked at him, confused, and you were especially confused when you saw a text from the dog-sitter saying that Kal was excited. That confused you even more, and when Henry pulled onto a dirt road you realized he was going toward another farm.

           “I swear, Henry, if we’re getting another horse…” He grinned and took your hand, squeezing it tightly.

           “We don’t need another horse,” he said, trying to rationalize you a little bit. You rolled your eyes and let go of his hand, crossing your arms against the sweatshirt you’d borrowed from Henry.

           “Well, where are we?” You asked when he pulled up to a house. He shut the truck off and let you out first, and without answering led you up to the front porch. He rang the doorbell and the wooden door erupted with bark after bark, and that was when you kind of realized what was going on. Maybe. You looked at Henry, who was grinning.

           “Do you know now?” He asked.

           “Henry,” you started to say. And then the door opened, revealing a woman who was holding a fluffy puppy in her hands.

           “Now do you get it?” He asked you. “Hi, I’m Henry, this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said to the woman. The woman shook both of your hands and you started to realize what was going on, but only briefly.

           “I think?” You responded, trying to contain your excitement. The woman led you into the house’s living room, where there was a gate set up. The room had probably about eight or nine puppies in it, and you looked over at Henry. Happiness flooded into your heart when you finally understood what was happening. You were getting another Akita. Henry smiled back at you, knowing that you got it.

           “We have three females and five males,” the woman explained, “but since you already have a male I would suggest you get another. Of course, it’s up to you, though.” Henry put a hand to your back.

           “Well, go on and pick one, love,” Henry said with a smile on his face.

           “You mean…?”

           “It’ll be all yours.” You hugged Henry from the side, squeezing his waist as he kissed the top of your head. “Go on.” You giggled and sat down on the floor. The puppies were all different colors, and you could see what looked to be the mother or the father in the other room walking around. Henry started talking to the woman and you soon came to find out that this was where he’d gotten Kal from. So, theoretically, this dog would actually be related to Kal. Something about that made you tear up.

           You looked around and petted all of the pups, who had different colored ribbons hanging on their necks. The pink and green ones were running around you, too busy playing with one another. The red and purple ones were sniffing you, and the others were walking around you. The blue one, though, was the first one that rest his head on your lap. He looked a little like Kal, but instead of almost black fur he was mostly the color of caramel with a little black and a little white. He was absolutely gorgeous. As soon as you looked down at him, he was the one.

           “You found one you like yet?” Henry asked a minute later, walking into the little corral and sitting down beside you. You carefully picked up the blue-ribboned puppy and smiled when the dog put his head on your shoulder.

           “I think this is the one,” you said softly, stroking the fur on his back. Something inside of you just broke and all of the loneliness and sadness you’d felt recently flooded out of you. Your eyes filled with tears and suddenly Henry was sitting beside you, his hand on the dog, too, and he put his lips to your temple.

           “I cried when I got Kal, too, it’s okay,” he said. You laughed and sniffled, hugging the soft, warm pup in your arms. “You know what you’re gonna name him?”

           “Well, it has to be after a superhero,” you responded like it was completely obvious. “But I don’t know yet.” Henry chuckled.

           “I’ll go arrange it. Spend some time with your new buddy.” Henry rubbed the dog’s ear for a second, agreeing with your decision, before walking back to the other room where the woman was standing talking to her family.

           In a few minutes you were all set and you were carrying the puppy out to the lawn, sitting back down. The puppy seemed to enjoy the sunshine, and when you got him into the car, he settled right on your lap. Henry’s hand reached over to pet the dog and etched on his face was a beam you hadn’t seen in a long time.

           “It’s not a fix-all,” Henry said to you. “But I know how much you love Kal and how happy he makes you. And I know how lonely it gets during the day, so when I take Kal, you can have this buddy.”

           “I can’t believe you got me a puppy.” You cuddled the dog like you had before, up by your neck, the soft puppy smell invading your nose. So did the hair, and you turned away to sneeze for a second.

           “Anything for my favorite girl,” he said to you. “I think you made the right choice. He’s so good in the car. Kal was absolutely evil when I got him, crawling around everywhere.” You giggled.

           “Yeah, he’s a good boy,” you commented as the dog whimpered when Henry went over a bump. “Drive carefully, my baby’s sad!” Henry chuckled.

           He pulled into the driveway a few minutes later and you made the introduction between the two dogs. You expected it to go worse than it did – Kal was territorial, especially over Henry and you, but he sniffed the puppy and sat down and let the dog even bite his ear without protesting at all.

           “I think they’re getting along well,” Henry commented as the two of you sat down on the couch and watched. You leaned into Henry’s shoulder, burying your face in his sweatshirt.

           “Thank you, Henry. You’ve no idea how much this means to me.”

           “I don’t want my love to be lonely. And I secretly just wanted an excuse for Kal to have a brother.” You giggled. “Thought of a name yet?”

           “You’re going to hate me for it.”

           “It depends, I’ll only hate it if it’s stupid.”

           “Well, since Kal is named after Superman, maybe we should name this one after another superhero.”

           “Oh, I hate where you’re going with this.”

           “Okay, you might kill me,” you confirmed. “But doesn’t he kind of, at least a little bit, look like Pietro? Maximoff?”

           “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Marvel.” You rolled your eyes and took out your phone, searching Google. Henry just tilted his head when you showed him a picture of the character you were referring to, and instead of protesting Henry just kind of nodded.

           “He… actually kind of does.”

           “Maximoff it is,” you grinned, walking over to the puppy and picking him up. “Max for short?”

           “Yeah, I’m calling him Max,” Henry said with a small roll of his eyes. He walked over to you and leaned down, kissing you. “Our family’s growing, love.”

           “Yep.” Henry reached down to pet Kal, praising him for being such a good boy to the new puppy, and you squeezed your new best friend tightly. “I love you. And Max.”

           “His name is Maximoff!”

[justlookfrightened]

If you're still taking them... would you mind doing random 8?

Prompt is from this list. Random 8: “Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?!”

“So you’re okay with it?” Bitty asked.

Jack stood up after rummaging in the fridge and coming up with a protein drink.

“Sure,” he said. “If you are. They’re your family.”

Bitty snorted.

“My relatives, sure,” Bitty said. “But it means they’ll be here when you get back from your first roadie this season. You’re you wouldn’t rather have your home to yourself?”

“Your home, too,” Jack said. “And you’ll be here, right? So as long you don’t mind, why not?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Just … do you like these cousins?” Jack asked. “I mean, you don’t think they’re just using you?”

“Using me? You mean besides asking to stay here? How?”

“You know,” Jack said. “For your connections, money …”

“Jack, I hate to break this to you now, but I don’t have any money,” Bitty said. “It’s like the Samwell financial aid office knew how much money I had -- to the penny -- and made sure they got every last cent of it. I am bringing no money into this household.”

Jack shrugged.

“What’s mine is yours,” he said. “So yes, you have money. And you are a big name at every college in New England, even the ones that aren’t into hockey, because of --”

“The first out captain thing?”

“I was going to say winning the Frozen Four,” Jack said. “But probably both.”

“Anyway, no, the girls have always been fine,” Bitty said. “I mean, they’re five years younger so I don’t know them that well. They were 13 when I went to Samwell. I guess I’m more surprised that Aunt Connie and Uncle Bubba would let them stay with us since we’re living in sin.”

“Uncle Bubba?” Jack asked. “Never mind. They’re both looking at colleges in Boston?”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “They’re twins, and they’ve always been in the same school. A lot of the time the same classes, because they’re both smart. So they decided they wanted to go to different colleges but try to be in the same city.”

“And Boston has plenty of options,” Jack said.

“Yup,” Bitty said. “I mean, Atlanta has options too, but if they want to get out of Georgia, good for them.”

*

By the time Jack left on his roadie, Bitty was glad to have his cousins’ visit to prepare for. He made sure the linens in the guest bedroom and bathroom were fresh, he bought flowers (at the supermarket, but still), laid in a supply of Coca-Cola, and and baked cookies before they arrived.

That helped take his mind off Jack being gone for three nights … which was fine, really. Last season, they almost never got to spend three nights in a row together at all. Bitty had been spoiled by spending the whole summer with Jack, and now he had to get used to having Jack gone almost as much as he was home. Maybe Bitty would spend a lot of time at the Haus 2.0.

But for now, he had Missy and Ellie coming for two nights and four college tours. Northeastern, Tufts, Boston University and Boston College. It was going to be exhausting, but at least Bitty knew his way around and was used to driving in Boston. Although it might make more sense to do the city ones on the T, and more fun for the girls. 

They arrived at Logan decked out in jeans and hoodies, with jackets over their arms, despite beautiful October weather. Bitty clucked to himself, but remembered how cold sixty degrees felt his first year in Massachusetts.

“What do y’all want to do besides visit the schools?” Bitty said. “Although I think that will take most of our time. And you know I live like an hour away from here, right?”

“We know, Di -- Eric,” Missy said. “Sorry. Aunt Suzanne said no one here calls you Dicky. I figured you might not like it anymore.”

“Anymore?” Ellie snorted. “Did he ever?”

“It’s fine,” Eric said. “I guess if I had my choice, you could call me Eric. Or Bitty. That’s what most people here call me.”

“You don’t mind that?” Missy asked. 

“No,” Bitty said. “It was what my team called me, and what Jack’s whole team calls me.”

“Speaking of,” Ellie said. “Any chance we’ll meet any hockey players?”

“Not Falconers,” Bitty said. “They’re on the road this week. Jack’ll be back very early Saturday, but of course you’ve met him.”

He led the way to the car and headed for a public lot halfway between Northeastern and Boston University.

“Is the traffic always like this?” Missy asked.

“What do you mean?” Bitty said. “It’s not as bad as Atlanta.”

“Maybe not as many cars,” Ellie said. “But they go every which way.”

After an introductory talk and a tour, Bitty took them to Amelia’s for Mexican food for lunch before repeating the routine at BU. Bitty found himself wondering what it would have been like to go to school in the middle of the city instead of in a college town like Samwell. Until now, all he’d seen of the campuses were their ice rinks.

He made them dinner at home, and enjoyed the cooking and washing up and listening to the girls chatter and gossip. It also gave him time to make a couple of pies for the following night.

The next day started with Tufts and ended at Boston College. Dinner was actually at Haus 2.0, where Ransom, Holster, Lardo and Shitty regaled Missy and Ellie with tales of Bitty’s misadventures as a frog.

“Pies just appear?” Missy said. “I know that feeling, around you and Aunt Suzanne. Somehow the baking bug missed Mom.”

“If you guys end up here, I’m sure Bits will deliver,” Holster said. “Having him around was half the reason we decided to stay in Boston. Another beer, Rans?”

Bitty, of course, was not drinking, since he was not only chaperoning his cousins but also driving. This would make three each for Ransom and Holster, which was … probably not good for their long-term health if they were doing it every day, but also not enough to get either of them drunk. Lardo had a beer with dinner, and Shitty disappeared onto the balcony and came back smelling of marihuana.

“Eric?” Ellie asked when they got in the car. “Did your friend go outside to smoke weed?”

“Uh … yes,” Bitty said. “Which is legal here, if you buy it from a dispensary and are over 21. Just so you know, it’ll still get you in trouble if not expelled from college.”

“No duh,” Missy said. “It’s not like we’ve never been around anyone who smoked weed before. I just didn’t expect you to hang around with potheads.”

“Shitty a pothead?” Bitty was indignant. Shitty did smoke pretty regularly, but he also was pulling top marks at Harvard Law, and Bitty rarely saw him too stoned to function responsibly. “I don’t think I’d use that word. He’s one of the smartest people I know, and if that’s how he relaxes, I’m not going to judge him.”

“Did you ever smoke weed?” Missy asked. 

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Bitty said.

“Pretty sure that is an answer,” Missy said.

“But don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone,” Ellie said. “What’s the deal with Ransom and Holster? Are they together? I couldn’t tell. Or are they available?”

“Not to you,” Bitty said. “You’re seventeen. They’re grown adults.”

“But they’re not together?” Missy persisted. 

Bitty shrugged. 

“I suppose it means what you mean by together,” he said. “They lived together the whole time I new them, got jobs together and moved in together after college, so I’d say their relationship is primary to both of them. But they also both date. One of the things I learned in college is that nothing is as black-and-white as lots of people seem to think. But those are lessons you’ll learn with people your own age.”

The girls fell quiet, and Bitty wondered if he’d been too harsh.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s not for me to tell you what to do when you get to college. But for now, I have to keep an eye out for you. And if you want a long lecture on power dynamics in relationships, I can set something up with Shitty.”

By the time Bitty went to bed that night, he was glad his cousins came, and even happier that he would be taking them back to the airport to head home tomorrow. It might be nice if they ended up in Bostpn for school, but if that happened, they’d be busy with their own friends and lives, and he could just drop in with pie and sympathy from time to time. Teenagers were exhausting.

*

Bitty woke up when Jack came in, probably somewhere around 3 a.m., and promptly followed Jack’s instructions to go back to sleep. He slept better than he had since Jack left, cocooned in the warm bed with his warmer fiance. 

He didn’t even wake up when Jack, who by rights should be more exhausted than he was, got up in the morning. Or at least it appeared that way, when he rolled over to snuggle into Jack’s said and found only cool sheets.

It was clearly full daylight, so Bitty checked his phone. It was only 8:30, but probably time to get up if he was going to get the girls to the airport in time for their 12:30 flight. There should still be time for pancakes if he could get them up soon.

He washed up and headed for the kitchen, drawn by the sound of giggles, a little surprised that they were already up.

He almost couldn’t believe the sight that met his eyes: Ellie and Missy, attempting to cook (French toast, maybe?) in his kitchen, but overcome with laughter as Jack, clearly just returned from a run, tried to figure out who was who. He wasn’t helped by the way they kept switching names on him just to make it worse.

Bitty stepped into the kitchen and removed the smoking, empty skillet from the burner. 

“Ellie,” he said, pointing, “and Missy, didn’t your mother tell you not to leave a pan on a hot burner unattended?”

“We’re right here,” Ellie said. 

“And yet the pan was smoking,” Bitty said. “You also should ask before cooking in someone else’s kitchen.”

“We just wanted to make breakfast to thank you for letting us stay,” Missy said. “Mom said we should.”

“She said you should start cooking in my kitchen without asking?” Bitty asked, because Aunt Connie set the standard for possessiveness over her kitchen. Which, come to think of it, might be why Ellie and Missy didn’t have any kitchen sense.

“She just said we should do something,” Missy said.

“Well, I’ll consider myself thanked, and you two can go pack your things,” Bitty said. “Breakfast in twenty minutes.”

“Are you sure we can’t stay and help?” Ellie said. “We’re mostly packed.”

“Maybe you could teach us,” Missy said.

It was her eyes straying away to Jack that gave her away. 

“If you want,” Bitty said sweetly. “Jack can help, too.”

“Me?” said Jack, putting his water glassin the sink. “What do you need, bud?”

“Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?” Bitty asked. “You know, for kitchen safety and all that.”