#so they didn’t talk to me on monday i was mostly just working listening to music bc i was still emotional whatever

[fakeoutbf]

five stages of grief but it’s five stages of social anxiety

[spencereidluver]

D is for Diana

august 25, 2008

summary: You overhear Spencer calling his mother and telling her about you and how he's finally found someone like him and who can understand him.

word count: 675

warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing

It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.

“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 

“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.

You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”

That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 

Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.

_____

With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.

As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.

“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”

There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.

Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”

Work? The girl he liked was at work? 

“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”

Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 

You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.

You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 

You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.

_____

next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

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a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definitelymy favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!

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Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

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taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology

[cherry-pop-elf]

Warming Up The New Client

Fred Weasley x Reader

Sum: Was another one of those little bets you and Fred did. You lost, but you are kinda the biggest winner between the two of you. Especially when one of the Weasley’s business partners come in to discuss important things. Let’s see if he can keep his head straight

Warnings: 18+, cock warming, blow jobs, semi public, kinda cracky because not everything needs to be a porno you gotta laugh, accidental choking, worried boyfriend because whoops this has become a sitcom, after care. Lowkey tho any fic you’ll read from me will have it, unless stated otherwise. HEALTHY AND REALISTIC SEX

“MR WEATHERBIRD! What are you doing here?!” Fred would panic, as he would force his chair to push into the desk. Was followed by a thump, as your body hit the back of the desk. Hardly any space for you, and his legs, in the confined space.

Why were you under his desk, and between his legs? Well you lost a bet. Was a harmless one. Just those lazy Mondays, at the shop, where you both needed something to help stimulate the day. A bet where it didn’t matter who won or loss, because there weren’t really any losers when the fun is the game.

Your prize for losing was to give the winner a blow job. Nothing too crazy. That is until unaware company arrived. That being a man that the Weasley twins were meant to do business with. Seems like George must have missed the man. Well, he arrived via fire place. George wouldn’t have seen him arrive, unless in the office with you two.

“Is now a bad time, Mr. Weasley? I figured Mondays would work best for you. Tis a joke shop, after all. The slowest day of the week, as your largest income bracket is through the school children. A Monday morning felt the most reliable to arrive.” Damn his logic, that was what Fred thought. He had a point.

“No no! It’s fine, you are right. Just surprise, that’s all. Take a seat. Let’s talk!” He would grin his award winning smile, as you remained stuck in your hiding place. Left with a choice to make. Stop what you are doing, or see how far you could push the button. Well, you married a Weasley. What’s a little bit of risk?

“Wonderful. We have much to discuss.” Boy was this going to be boring. You knew it, Fred knew it, but hey. You are certainly going to make it more enjoyable. Or worse. Either way, it’s gonna be fun.

As the older gentlemen began his garble, you were busy with your own garbling. Letting his cock press into your cheek, as you tried to find a way to move your head. You didn’t want to just keep thumping your head on the wood. That’s not fun at all.

You were shifting your head all over the place, as you tried to get comfortable. Made for your boyfriend to struggle with paying attention to the boring work jargon his business partner was making. Was certainly difficult to make sure he looked like he was listening, and not currently getting sucked off. Certainly difficult indeed, when those freckled cheeks of his were rosey.

“You seem a bit warm, Mr. Weasley. Are you feeling well?” The older gentlemen would ask Fred. Ever the charismatic man he was, he was oh so quick to think on the fly. Lie out of every situation. Such a charming gift to have.

“Fever fudge. You know how my brother and I are. We always self test our products. That way if anyone gets hurt, it’s us. We only ever field test with mostly our siblings. We know how they would react to what we make, but not to strangers. No. We don’t act like it, but we try and keep things safe.” That seemed to win over Mr. Weatherbird. Charmed the man as much as he could charm a gaggle of girls in a quidditch stand.

The devil on your shoulder was going to be the death of you, and him, with what it was whispering to you. Wanting to try and make his facade crack somehow. Just a little bit. Enough to make him sweat under the pressure. Just a little bit. You don’t want to actually put him at risk of anything, but gambling is gambling. Win big, or die trying.

As you finally managed to force Fred’s chair back, you could properly move your head. Made him need to sit awkwardly, to not make it appear that he was pushed back. Didn’t want the man to get suspicious. Seems he wasn’t, as he was busy with papers. Gave Fred time to look down, and see your devious face. Stuffed with his cock. Was so arrousing, you could feel his cock twitch on your tongue. With fresh flavor for you to enjoy.

He would shoot you a glare, only for the man to look back up. Forced him to meet the clients eyes, as to try and act as chill as possible. Never did he think he would want to do paper work right now. Anything to not just cum down your throat. George was the moaner, not him. But you were seeing if they were identical in a few other ways.

That was until Mr. Weatherbird started to lean over the desk. Just trying to be polite, and show him something on the papers. Had Fred quickly slam himself back under the desk. Forced you to take his cock all the way down your throat, and gag on it. Had you cross eyed, and trying so damn hard to not gurgle on it. Guess you weren’t quite enough.

“What was that noise-?” “What noise?” “Sounded like someone was choking….” Fred, ever quick, was able to come up with the perfect lie. A lie melted in truth, to keep the seal on the little secret at hand closed.

“We have a product here called puking pasties. A pastry used to help kids throw up. For one reason or another. Not to mention we have many things that stink so bad you wish to obliviate yourself from the memory. Just kids being kids. George has it under control.” He would brush off the worry, as you tried to find your ability to breathe again.

Was rather difficult, as you were now trapped entirely under the desk this time. How your head was pressed against the desk, and held no way to move your head. Just gagging around his cock, with drool soaking all over your clothes.

The more you tried to steady yourself, the more his cock twitched in your mouth. Feeling your tongue trying to adjust itself. How your throat kept clenching and your lips desperate to move.

Before you could make any other noises, he was quick to wave his wand. Had his gramophone kick to life, and play that loud swing music those twins loved. Nothing like some big band to liven up the scene. Along with hide more of your gagging, and sputtering, in the hopes to finish this meeting.

“That’s better. Now, as we were saying-“ The droning was starting to get to him. All his mind could think about you was choking on his cock. Had him aroused, but also very worried he was hurting you. It’s not hot if it’s not consented on. Was an accident, yes, but he loves you and wants you safe. He had to figure out how to get you out of there, before things get worse.

“Say uh. Mr. Weatherbird, um-“ Wow was it getting harder to talk. Wasn’t helping that you were still scrambling. Your hands reaching into his lap, to try and push him back some. When trying to reach the front of his chair, you got a full grab of your favorite stress toy instead. Had his eyes go cross, for a moment, as he had to bite his lip. Trying so hard, but he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh, I know it’s alot. You are so new to this world of business. I respect it. You two are stars, I can see it. I’ll do my best to help guide you both. You two are already doing so wonderful. Truly business savvy. Your parents must be so proud. Here, I’ll leave these papers for you and your twin to discuss over. Just send an Owl if you have any questions.” He gave a tip of his hat to Fred, as Fred himself did his best to give a flustered nod.

Mr. Weatherbird would give a wave goodbye, and vanished through the fireplace. As soon as he did, Fred pushed himself back. Made for a rather pornographic sight, and sound, as he popped his cock out of your mouth.

You were just covered in your own drool. Face more flustered than his own, with your lips swollen from being stretched for so long. How you were panting hard from the stress of the scene. It was all too much. You were just so perfect in his view. He just had to add to it.

He barely had time to close your eyes, as he leaned back. His cock just spilling his cum all across your face. Across your drool stained chest. You were just covered in so much. You were surprised he even had so much in him. Guess this was some life or death edging, so to speak.

With your breath caught, it was his turn to pant. Just leaning back in his office chair. His body slack, as he was seeing stars. That release was so needed, and so intense. He swore he pulled his back out from it.

“That could have gone better…Or worse. Depends on if we look at this from a positive view or not.” You would joke, as he gave a dry laugh. Happy to know you were ok. You knew he was worried, you could just tell. There was something sweet about it. That even with such heat of the moment he was looking out for you.

You would let him collect himself, as a cleaning charm solved all your problems. You also were polite to help out his dick away for him. After care goes both ways, after all. When he would come back to reality he would take care of you. You knew that. Until then, you’ll make sure he is cared for to.

Once he had his time to no longer sweat himself a new pool, he would pull you into his lap. Just cuddling you. A means of apology, without saying it. You knew he was trying to not have you humiliated. It wasn’t intentional in any way. The way you would play with his hair conveyed it. Both of you using your own silent little love language.

“So….Whens your next meeting?” The fact you asked that made his head spin. You wanted to do that again? That risk? The choking? The fear? The adrenaline? The insanity of it all?

“…….Thursday, after lunch….” He’s a Weasley. They were all adrenaline junkies. That’s just one of the many things that made you love him. Love him, kiss him, and bump your noses together. His adorable bird nose, with yours.

“You are such a minx, and I LOVE it.”

[augustvandyne]

Angela lopez x reader

Lucy and Nyla try to set up their two best friends

-🖇

hey again! this one’s really long, and i’m not sorry.

setup

Everyone could see it from a mile away, even Sergeant Grey. So the question was, why couldn’t the two of you see it?

I mean, Angela is a detective, for goodness sake!

How could she not see that the two of you have the biggest crushes on each other?

Well, that was Nyla and Lucy’s mission for this week. To get you and Angela to, for one, see your feelings for each other. Because it’s been oncoming since the first day the two of you met. And then for two, they want to get you two together.

Yesterday, Nyla had found Lucy at lunch, and proposed this plan.

And now, I know what you’re thinking. Nyla came to Lucy?

Well, she was tired of the unknown flirting, longing looks, the touching.. it was making her annoyed. You guys were basically dating at this point, but every time Nyla brought it up, Angela denied it.

Let’s begin!

Monday

You rode with Lucy almost everyday, so imagine your surprise when Lucy told you she was going to be riding with mostly Nyla this week.

You kind of just shrugged it off, figuring she might have wanted to broaden her horizons and try out detective work. Which didn’t really make sense, because you thought her heart was set on undercover work.

Little did you know, they were plotting against you and Angela.

You also didn’t mind because that meant you would be with Angela. You two were friends, and hung out every once in a while, but you did enjoy her company and talked to her whenever you could.

Today you and Angela were mostly staying at the station, so you’d talked a bunch.

Nothing you hadn’t already known about her, though.

Eventually her phone starts dinging repeatedly, and you look up to see her scrunched up face, and you knew what that meant. She was frustrated.

“Jeez,” Angela finally gives in and flips the phone over.

You watch her as her frown grows deeper, and her frustration turns into anger. She rolls her eyes, placing her phone on silent and into her bag on the floor.

“Everything okay?” You ask, making her look up you.

Her features and voice soften, “Fine.”

She sits there and begins tapping her foot on the floor, which you pretend not to notice as you focus on the case files in front of you. She lets out a loud sigh that has you dropping the papers and gives her your full attention.

“It’s Wesley,” Angela admits. “Do you like him?”

You try your best not to make a face. You knew Wesley well.

He made his appearance throughout the station due to him being a defense lawyer. He often represents criminals in your interrogation room.

You’re best at interrogating criminals, so most people seek you out to do their interrogations, which is how you know Wesley so well.

But did you like him?

Well that was a whole different story.

He’d taken Angela out a few times, to which you didn’t like. He’d annoyed you now that he went out with her. You couldn’t explain why it bothered you, but it did.

The two of them had broken things off about a week ago, Angela’s doing, but you couldn’t get the reason out of Angela.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” You raise one shoulder.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Angela pursed her lips. “Tell me the truth.”

“He’s kind of.. uh, an asshole?” You wince thinking of what Angela’s reaction to your opinion would be.

“Hm,” She doesn’t look fazed, which is good. But that could also mean she was upset and was just hiding it. “Well, he’s the one blowing my phone up.”

“I figured as much,” You say.

“He wants to try again.”

There was that feeling again. Deep in your stomach. You wanted this conversation to stop, but you loved listening to Angela talk. You could listen all day.

“What do you want?” You tilt your head slightly.

“I don’t know,” Angela bites the inside of her cheek. “That’s why I’m talking to you. He’s been texting me a lot lately, asking me to go out with him again, but I ended things for a reason.”

“And what reason was that?” You thought you’d at least try, but you already knew her answer.

She hesitates, and you think she might actually tell you, but then she just shook her head.

“Mm,” You clear your throat and put the files away neatly on Nyla’s desk. You reach to grab for your bag, ready to get out for the night, the overwhelming sensation to cry hitting you. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Oh,” Angela parts her lips. “I can walk you out—“

“No,” You clench your jaw, putting your walls back up. “I’ve got it.”

“Well doesn’t Lucy normally drive you—“

“I said I’ve got it.”

Tuesday

Lucy was devastated to find out about the small fight that took place between you and Angela last night.

She found out when she found you with your comfort movie on and a pint of ice cream in hand.

She was able to get what happened out of you easily, and immediately messaged Nyla with the news.

They were hoping yesterday would be enough, but apparently not.

You were relieved to find out you’d be riding with Nyla the next morning in roll call. You were interested in becoming a detective, so it worked out for you.

Only, it wasn’t going so great now that you were cornered by two men.

Nyla had been tied to a chair back further into the room, and you were being cornered close to the top of the stairs.

You called for backup about five minutes ago, and you prayed Lucy or anyone else would hurry to your location because you wouldn’t be able to hold out two men for more than a few minutes.

Next thing you know, Nyla is yelling something that sounds like a, “Watch out!”, and you’re tumbling down the stairs.

Your vision goes blurry and your head is pounding. You feel like throwing up and you have a pain in your ankle.

Thankfully, you’re put out of your misery when you pass out.

You wake up in the hospital, a doctor shining a light in your eyes.

As you thought, Lucy was there by your side when you woke up, which was a relief.

You’d gotten a bad concussion from hitting your head off the floor after tumbling down the steps, as well as a sprained ankle.

Lucy dropped you at home, which is where you spent the rest of your night—alone.

At least you did until Angela came knocking on your door.

“Oh,” You let out a sharp breath when finding the woman at the other end of the door.

“Hey, I heard what happened,” Angela steps into your apartment without even asking, concern written all over her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You say as her hand touches the bruise that formed on the side of your face from the fall.

Her hand is cool on your face, and even though the bruise hurts to the touch, you hold her hand there.

“Does it hurt?” She lightly moves her hand from the side of your face, and softly grips your chin, turning your head so she can see your bruise.

“Keep your hand there,” You dodge her question, grabbing her hand that’s not on your chin, and place it back on the side of your face. “Your hands cold. Feels good.”

Wednesday

You were placed on desk duty for the rest of the week. Just great.

It tampered with Nyla and Lucy’s plan, but it’s nothing they couldn’t handle.

Lucy stayed back today, but kept her distance from you and Angela. The two of you were in the same seats at Monday. Sat across from each other.

You could feel Angela watching over you as the day went by.

Lucy ate lunch with you and asked how Angela was but you did your usual show when someone asked about her.

You looked down, hid your blush, shrugged your shoulders and muttered an “I don’t know.”

Later into the shift, you had gotten up for coffee.

You and Angela stayed back a bit late to finish the case you were on. You were so close, you could feel it.

But that also meant Lucy and Nyla were at home, as well as the rest of the day shift.

They were at home conspiring against the two of you as you make your coffee.

Angela followed you into the break room, and good thing she did, because your ankle decided to give out three seconds later.

Angela speeds to catch you just in time, you falling back into her arms. You swallow nervously, your faces awfully close.

All you could see were her sparkling brown eyes, and her kissable lips.

But you beat yourself down for even thinking about that. So when she leaned in a fraction, you cleared your throat and stood up.

“Sorry about that,” You scratched the back of your neck.

“You should really be more careful,” Angela tries to play it off as if she didn’t just try to kiss you and got rejected.

“I know,” You chuckle awkwardly.

“Was it your ankle?” Angela frowns.

“Yeah, it’s been bothering me,” You shrug. “I should stay off it.”

“Damn right you should,” Angela said sternly. “From now on I’m confining you to Nyla’s desk.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Fine by me.”

“Okay.. so go sit down,” Angela raises her brows. “You think I’m joking? I’m not. Go sit. I’ll bring you your coffee.”

Smirking, and watching you leave the room, she does just as she says.

Thursday

Today would be an exciting one.

You were with Nyla again, and Lucy was with Angela.

But since Angela forced you on desk duty, you and Nyla would be hanging back at the station.

The fun part is how all Nyla’s been talking about is Angela.

Nyla had somehow found out about your almost kiss with Angela last night, and yet she hadn’t asked about why you’d pulled back, you had a feeling she would soon.

“You know she broke things off with Wesley?” Nyla looked up, smiling at you.

“Yeah. I mean, she was thinking about it,” You try not to get too hung up on the question, trying to figure something out for Nolan, but coming up with nothing due to your mind being on the Lopez woman. “But why?”

“You really want to know?” Nyla leans on the desk, her hands intertwined together on top of the surface.

“Will you actually tell me?” You sit up excitedly.

“It was because of you.”

That caught you off guard. Why would she say something like that?

“That’s not funny,” You start blinking repeatedly.

“I’m not laughing, am I?” Nyla gave you her serious face.

“But why would she do that?” You asked yourself, and ended up with an answer from Nyla.

“Because she likes you.”

You scoff.

“What, me?” You’re taken aback at the seriousness of Nyla’s tone and face. “No. I’m just a patrol officer. And she’s a detective. She could have anyone. And she wants me? Are you sure?”

“Positive. You’re all she talks about.”

“You’re all she talks about,” Lucy looked over to look at Angela who had her thinking face on.

Angela had Lucy driving today, because she felt like sitting back today, rather than dealing with assholes on the road.

“I don’t buy it,” Angela shrugged. “I would know. I mean, I’m a detective.”

“You know, that’s exactly what Nyla and I thought.”

“What— Nyla?” Angela turns her whole body. “She’s in on it?”

“Well, I mean—“

“Are you sure? I’ve liked her since, well, I don’t know..”

“Since your first day training her? Yeah, her too,” Lucy was jittery, excited for their plan to finally come together. Even after having to go to plan D.

“Well, what do you think I should do?” Angela bites her nail nervously. “Should I ask her out?”

“Of course you should!” Lucy is basically bouncing in her seat, she can only imagine how you feel.

“Tonight?”

“Yes!” But then Lucy remembers tonight in the night your show comes on, and you almost never miss it. “Oh, no, wait, no.. here’s the thing. Thursdays are not so good, you see.”

“Her show?”

Lucy is surprised by her words, but it just points out the obvious fact that the two of you like each other.

“Yeah, yeah, how did you know that?” Lucy shakes her head.

“It’s all she talks about on Fridays, so I have no choice but to assume it comes on on Thursday nights.”

“You know what you should do? Bring her takeout! Yes, I’m going out with a friend tonight, so it works out perfectly,” Lucy beams. “You know her favorite place?”

“Of course,” Angela rolls her eyes. “I know it by heart.”

“So it’s a date.”

“Whatever,” She shrugs it off, but is secretly planning out her outfit.

A knock at the door later that night has you bouncing on your toes.

Lucy had hinted at how her conversation went with Angela earlier in the day, but wouldn’t tell you how it went.

When you open your door there she is, looking gorgeous as always, your favorite takeout in her hand.

You smile widely, trying your best not to check her out, but fail.

“You gonna invite me in, or what? Your shows coming back on,” She jerks her head in the direction of you and Lucy’s huge TV.

“Oh, come in,” She shreds off her coat, placing it on the hanger by the door.

She was wearing a black tank, which you weren’t complaining about, as well as jeans that complimented her perfectly.

When she catches you staring, you fake cough, and hide your face in the fridge, grabbing the both of you some water.

“How was desk duty?”

“As well as it should be,” You shrugged.

“Speaking of, you should be sitting,” She pushes you towards the couch, a smile across her face. “Go sit. I’ll bring you some.”

You talk as you eat, and learn that Angela doesn’t know anything about this show, besides what you’ve told her. So you pause the show, and you spend the next hour and a half explaining the show.

At this point, she isn’t even paying attention to what you’re saying, she’s just watching your mouth and the column of your throat move as you talk.

“Angelaaa you aren’t even listening. How are you going to understand what’s happening?”

“I am listening, and it’s very interesting,” Angela tries to lie her way out.

“What did I just say?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then what do you know?” You squint at her.

“That I want to kiss you.”

You hadn’t realized that there was only about an inch or two between your faces.

This time, when Angela leans in, you don’t stop her. You let her grip the sides of your neck, her thumbs rubbing across your neck.

You wrap your arm around her neck, moving yourself closer, all but on her lap. You begin running your hands through her hair.

You pull slightly, making the woman groan, which gives you access to her mouth.

It would have gone farther, had Lucy and Nyla not chosen that second to walk in.

“Oh! I guess our plan worked,” Lucy turns her head as you scramble off Angela.

“I guess it did,” Nyla smiled. “We’ve got moves.”

“Yeah, yeah we do,” Lucy nodded, sticking her fist out for Nyla, who bumps it.

[fadingdaggerr]

crystal clear

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: five times other people realized melissa was in love with you and the one time she realized it herself

warnings: mostly fluff, reader gets called a slur but it isn’t written

note: sorry i’ve been slow on updating, it’s finals week and a relative has had some a health scare :/

ava

when ava introduced you to the other teachers in the break room, she truly wasn’t going to give them much of a glance. a new teacher here that understood all the references she throws out instead of squinting? now that was someone she could hang out, and party, with outside of work.

but ava coleman is nothing if not observant. she sees the way melissa is struggling not to stare at you, the way her blinking looked almost forced. she brushes it off. you’re hot. at least she knows melissa isn’t blind, being down a teacher when she just hired one would suck.

it wasn’t until months later that ava actually noticed just how much of melissa’s attention was specifically for you. jacob had gotten you hooked on some show, now the two of you were excitedly talking about last night’s episode. ava listened to none of the nerdy word vomit coming from the two of you, but instead watched melissa gaze at you while you spoke. the soft look in her eyes and the barely noticeable smile almost made ava laugh, but she kept quiet.

this could be fun.

jacob

movie night this week was replaced by you and jacob watching the two hour finale of your show together. just as you got your snacks and drinks spread out, as well as every throw pillow you owned, and the ones jacob brought, arranged into a makeshift mega-couch, the buzzer of your apartment went off.

you scrambled to your feet, “melissa is here!”

jacob nearly choked on a swedish fish, “melissa? melissa like schemmenti?”

“what other melissa do we both know?” you laugh as you buzz her in, “she caught up so that she would watch with us,” you say with a big smile. jacob had thought melissa wouldn’t come to this movie night, the way barbara, janine, and gregory didn’t for tonight, and ava never came to any, claiming she was ‘too fine’ for the occasion. they didn’t watch thisv show, neither did melissa, until now.

“yeah… us,” he mutters under his breath.

“what?”

“nothing!”

jacob watches you nearly bouncing when you hear the knock on the door, rushing to answer it. he hears a muffled mel! followed by hey sweetheart. no one else, except barbara, could call her mel. he tried once and got a glare that still haunts his dreams. she was so easy to reply to you with a pet name, too. usually she called everyone dude, or kid, or just plain you. but not you, no, you got sweetheart.

jacob was almost convulsing, the realization was just too good. he covered his mouth in order to not scream. melissa schemmenti, notorious hardass, had a big, fat crush on you. he squeals at the thought.

“do not tell me you looked at a spoiler jacob abernathy hill!” you shout as you walk back in.

“abernathy?” melissa laughs, stopping the second you look at her, before looking at jacob for an answer.

he stiffens, “nope. just super excited to see this all happen.”

janine

being yanked by the sleeve into her classroom like a raggedy anne doll was not what janine expected on a monday morning. jacob shut the door and turned to look at janine, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“i have got to tell you something,” jacob says with excitement practically oozing from him.

“what is it? is barbara okay?” janine asks quickly.

“no, no. barbara is fine, it’s something good. i’m not going to spoil the big surprise, i wanna see it on your face,” jacob answers, “but i’ll give you a hint.”

“oh my god, jacob. please just get to the point.”

“yes, sorry,” he clears his throat, “melissa has got one of the biggest crushes i’ve ever seen, second only to yours on grego-”

janine smacks a hand over his mouth, “uh-uh. who is it?”

“i can’t tell you!” jacob sing-songs as he rushes from her classroom.

the next week has janine practically stalking melissa around every corner. she watches her hold the door for you, shove jacob out of the way so she can get the last iced tea, roll her eyes aggressively when ava spoke, hold tacks for you as you hung up the new monthly decorations, then hold your hand as you stepped down from the from the chair.

janine saw in real time how melissa’s tough exterior dropped with you. she watched her handle you so gently, anyone would think you were made from glass, but you didn’t seem to notice. it was so normal for you to see this side of melissa, you couldn’t see that it was different. janine scurried to her classroom to happy dance quickly before calming herself, as much as janine is capable, before leaving to get the kids from the art room.

gregory

thankfully, janine’s knowledge of melissa’s feelings for you did not make front page news or into the morning announcements. janine felt it a safer choice for her and jacob if they just kept this secret to themselves, which left gregory in the dark.

gregory only heard mutters of your name and melissa’s, which gave him some sort of direction about their whisperings. he looks towards you, seeing you leaned into melissa while looking at something on her phone. totally normal. gregory continued to eat his also totally normal sandwich, boiled chicken is not weird.

it feels a little less normal after janine called melissa a bad teacher, leaving janine unprepared for the might of courtney’s troublemaking. when the kids are at recess, gregory starts towards the lounge but is stopped by voices inside your classroom. he stops to listen, suddenly intrigued.

“do you think she’s right, though? she wouldn’t just say that normally,” melissa says, her voice tense and sad.

“no, i don’t think she’s right. she got an ego trip from thinking it was a real requested transfer and it spilled over, i don’t think she meant it,” your voice is calm, soothing in a way.

“are you sure?”

you laugh softly, “of course. you’re one of the best teachers in the world. i know it, janine knows it, hell, stanley tucci knows it.” your words make melissa laugh, something she very much needed it seemed.

gregory feels the need to take just a tiny peek. he sees your arm around melissa’s shoulders, her head on your shoulder while yours rests on hers, your fingers gently playing with the loose curls in her hair. melissa looks relaxed, content even. he’d never seen her showing physical affection to anyone, except the occasional side hug to barbara. but she was leaning on you, playing with the hem of your shirt as she spoke, letting you playing with her hair.

gregory stepped away from the door and started briskly walking to the lounge. so that’s why jacob and janine were so giggly about you two.

barbara

barbara knows her friend very, very well. she saw the look she gave you the first time she met you. she also clocked every other look melissa has sent your way since. at first she thought melissa was just checking you out, but after a few weeks the heat in her gaze turned to cartoonish heart eyes bulging out of her head.

barbara was no fool, she saw how you acted with melissa. it didn’t slip her mind once that you also had feeling for the red head. she watched the dance between you two, smiling at the fact her best friend was so happy, even if she didn’t realize it. barbara keeps her smile to herself.

legendary schools was a hyperactive bull running through abbott elementary’s very delicate china shop. parents were snapping at teachers left and right, one setting off melissa’s ‘fight-or-fight’ response. jacob walks in, babbling about a commercial. he almost asks where you are so you be part of the conversation for the take-down plan, but he’s cut off by yelling in the hallway.

everyone rushes out to see the mother of one of your students in your face. barbara can see that you’re trying not to cry at the cruel words, but she also sees how you’re holding your own. you don’t yell back, only speaking when the mother takes a breath. a word barbara cannot and will not repeat strikes through the air, silencing everyone around you. your face drops immediately, looking like you’d been harshly slapped.

melissa is walking down the hall before anyone can stop her, immediately in front of you. “you got some nerve talking like that around here. what is this, 1951?” melissa barks at the parent, holding herself back from swearing at and beating the living day lights out of someone on this seemingly normal thursday afternoon.

“you have teachers in this school pushing their own shit onto our kids, and you’re defending it? you’ve got a cross around your neck!” the mother yells.

“liberation movements are part of the curriculum. i asked the kids what three topics they were most interested in and we covered those, i didn’t choose,” you try reasoning from behind melissa, she won’t let you move from your spot.

barbara heads over and speaks to the mother with a plastic smile, “i’m going to have to ask you to leave, the school day is done. i’m sure you’d prefer to re-educate your child with some ignorance at home, correct?”

ava leads the mother away and barbara focuses on you; your breathing is fast and you can’t tear your eyes from the floor, lip wobbling. melissa’s hands gently go to your shoulders, you barely nod before she’s pulling you into a hug. barbara can see that melissa is whispering to you, but she can’t make out the words, she just sees you nod. you pull away from melissa slowly before taking off to your classroom to get your stuff and leave.

barbara comes to melissa’s side, “going back to your place?” melissa nods and follows you down the hall.

she filled in barb later that you watched golden girls on the couch until you fell asleep against melissa’s shoulder. barbara watched the muted smile on melissa’s lips struggle against her efforts to conceal it. lord this woman was whipped.

melissa

melissa knew she loved you, but truthfully not to the extent in which she did. she had spent so long convincing herself she cared about you the same she cared for all her friends, that she didn’t see the love for you was different. somewhere between you bringing her lattes and her letting you use her lap as a pillow on movie nights, the lines between what was friendship and what was maddening love for you blurred.

melissa’s first hint that she had feelings for you should’ve been when she started looking for you. it was so small but when she realized she was doing it, she’d blush and force herself to look down. during meetings she watched you take notes, then watched as those notes slowly turned to doodles of flowers and fossils. you’d given her a very accurate drawing of a bumble bee after an ava-centered meeting. you’d told her it was because her name meant honeybee in greek, before walking back down to your classroom, leaving melissa with honeybees buzzing in her chest.

—

the day she actually realized she had full on, gross, huge feelings for you, you’d been running late. you ran into the break room with a mug already in hand, bag haphazardly over your shoulder. everyone collectively looked at you with a little bit of shock.

with a stern face you stated back, “speak now or forever keep your two cents. i’m not a fan of staring.”

immediately all eyes dropped back down, except for melissa’s. she just kept watching you move about with quick steps, pouting at the change in the normal routine. she moves to the coffee maker and pours you a cup, using the creamer you prefer from the fridge. you only responded with a relieved smile and a mouthed ‘thank you.’

she watched you hurriedly get your classroom ready for the students, a small smile across her rosy lips. “you want help or are you enjoying the crazy chicken dance?”

you huffed at her, “ha ha, schemmenti,” your fake glare dropped, “could you pass out the science quizzes? they’re on my desk.”

melissa looks over your desk as she grabbed the papers, taking note of the knickknacks and pictures. the funko pop of dorothy from golden girls makes her smile, so does the sketchbook with a bee sticker on the cover.

she passed out the quizzes, and helped you prep the whiteboard for the day. you chatted lightly, but mostly just moved around each other while music played. it was so incredibly peaceful, the ease of it made her feel this warmth in her chest.

“thank you for helping me, melissa. truly. you didn’t have to,” you say as you finish rearranging the classroom chore chart.

“it’s no problem, really… i like spending time with you,” melissa says tentatively, gauging your reaction.

any nervous energy she may have had dissipates when you smile and duck your face down. you look back up at her, shy smile on your lips, “i like spending time with you too.”

you walked with her to get the kids from drop off, standing just a little bit closer than usual.

—

today was different. this beautiful saturday morning with you practically pulling her around the flea market. you inspected every item on the table with equal curiosity, always showing melissa your favorite things and things you think she’d like. her smile never fades and her eyes never leave you.

as you finish having lunch under the large center tent, she sees your eyes widen with excitement.

“what? what is it?” melissa says through her final bite of a hotdog.

you grab her hand and pull her towards what she now sees as the mini petting zoo. your immediately cradling the face of a goat, baby talking it to high heaven. she walks up next to you, gently petting the top of the goats head.

“he likes you,” she says.

“only him?” you say with a laugh, watching another goat approach, now wanting the attention his friend was getting from you two.

melissa laughs to hide her shock at your words before facing you, “no, definitely not just him.”

your smile grows at her words, the way you bite your lip makes melissa feel a little faint. thankfully she gets a moment to breathe when you’re distracted by a piglet coming towards you, making you squeal in delight. in this moment, melissa was sure she loved you.

melissa stands back up after bit, going over to grab both of you a lemonade. when she walks back, the words she hears only solidify her thoughts.

an older gentleman approaches you, “you and your wife are a beautiful couple.”

his words clearly shock you, “oh,” but she sees you push it down before responding with a kind smile, “why thank you, that’s very sweet! she’s definitely the beautiful one.”

when you turned, you see melissa and immediately move towards her. she wordlessly hands you a lemonade, which you accept as well as loop your arm with hers. she’s quiet as you walk back to the car and place your purchases in the backseat.

before she can start the car, you place a hand on hers, “you okay? you’re just a little quiet.”

“yeah, sweetheart. never been better,” she says, squeezing your hand. she relishes in your tugging her arms and hugging it, stretching across the console to rest you head on her shoulder as she drives you back to her place for dinner and a movie, as always.

melissa ann schemmenti realized she was big time in love with you that day.

not sure if i love this but let me know what y’all think :)

[hwalilac]

Do You Love Me?

⇴ pairing: park seonghwa x gn!reader

⇴ genre: fluff, angst, F2L

⇴ words: 1.4k

⇴ warnings: crying, jealousy, drinking

⇴ a/n: this is a re-upload! feedback is accepted and welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts on my work! if you’d like to be on my taglist, lmk. if you’d like to see more of my work, check out my masterlist!

For Seonghwa, you were his ride or die. He did everything for you. He would drop what he’s doing in a heartbeat for you. He would never tell you he loved you, but he did. And you… you were oblivious. To you, you had no idea Seonghwa liked you, let alone loved you. The problem was, you liked him back. But you, never in a million years, thought he liked you back.

It was complicated. Nothing ever moved forward. Both of you were just too scared of the ‘what if’s’. But nothing would ever separate you. You’d been friends since middle school, Seonghwa being the first kid to come up to you on your first day of school. He gets you. He always did. You’d be nothing without him. He’d be nothing without you.

You spent your Saturday afternoon relaxing, eating and sleeping. You weren’t expecting to do anything today anyways. However, as soon as Seonghwa called you about a little get together with the boys at their apartment, you immediately got dressed. He said there would be alcohol as well, fueling you to move faster.

By the time you got there, everyone was already gathered around the living room, sipping on their drink of choice. Seonghwa immediately got up to get you a drink, without even asking you. When he comes back, he hands you your favorite alcohol, proving how well he knows you. You sit down on the floor, opening the bottle and taking a big chug. When you lower the bottle, you see Wooyoung staring at you with a smirk.

“Can I help you with something, Woo?”, you ask teasingly. “I don’t know, can you?”, his voice is filled with a touch of lust, but is mostly covered by his drunken slurring of words. You thought only you picked up on the hint of flirting, so you just let it go. Little did you know that Seonghwa’s hard eyes shot daggers into Wooyoung’s side.

The rest of the night went pretty smoothly, you all stuffing Chinese food in your mouths from the store down the street. By the time it was 10 pm, most of the guys were already in their rooms, headed to bed. You let out the biggest yawn, before getting your stuff ready to leave. While you were in the kitchen, cleaning off your utensils, Wooyoung peeked his head around the corner, directly at you.

“Hi Y/n,” his words were even more slurred than before. Usually he doesn’t drink this much, but you’re not too worried about his behavior. “Hello Wooyoung,” your amused tone spurring him to keep talking. He compliments your outfit, which you give a polite thank you, before telling him to go to bed. “You should head to bed with me,” he jokes, which you know he’s not serious.

Seonghwa happens to walk into the kitchen when Wooyoung says that, his eyes widening when he sees that it’s you he’s talking to. He stands behind the wall, listening for your response. Your response however, is not what he was hoping for. You let out a giggle, the alcohol letting you joke more with Wooyounf than normally do. “Maybe I will,” you say, almost seductively.

For Seonghwa, this moment broke his precious heart. He didn’t stick around for the rest of the conversation, quickly heading to his room and quietly shutting the door. His back hit the door, him slowly sliding down the surface, until he hit the floor.

He knew Wooyoung is like this, but he never thought you would flirt back. And to be honest with himself, he was incredibly hurt. Why did he ever think he had a chance with you? His head sat in his hands, quietly letting out a few sobs before quickly heading to bed in hopes it would get it off his mind.

The next few days are a blur for you, sleeping the day away on Sunday after your killer headache. Monday and Tuesday were classes, with an incredibly tight schedule. Luckily you had Wednesdays off, giving you time every week to spend a day with Seonghwa. Because this is routine for you guys, you’re surprised when you don’t find a good morning text, along with a time he’ll be at your place.

You almost panic, before coming to the conclusion that he must’ve slept through his alarm. You go about your morning normally, giving him time to wake up. By the time 9 am rolls around and there is still no text from him, you start to get a little worried. You send a “good morning, you ok?”, text, hoping he just simply forgot. But by the time it hits 11 am and nothing, you decide to just leave him alone, thinking he might just want to be alone today.

You try not to worry about him as the week goes by without any word for him, but when it hits Friday and there’s still nothing, you decide to text Hongjoong. It turns out Hwa has been hiding in his room all week, not coming out unless he’s hungry. You decide enough is enough, and head over to their place Friday night.

When you knock on the door, Jongho answers, letting you in, knowing you’re there for Seonghwa. You quietly head over to his door, trying not to disturb anyone, before knocking on his door. It takes a minute before he opens his door, but when he does, you find that his eyes are swollen and tired. But once they lie on you, they widen almost comically. You’d laugh if you weren’t so worried.

Before you can ask him anything, he speaks first, “What do you want?”. His tone almost hurts to hear, not expecting such irritation. Your mouth drops open, hoping he’s not talking to you like that. And yet, he is, judging by the frown on his lips. You scoff, before pushing him aside to march into his room. “What is wrong with you, Hwa? What’s happening?”, you question, almost desperately. You wrack your brain trying to understand why he’s so upset with you.

He stays quiet for a second, before huffing and moving to his bed. He sits down, his head facing the ground. “It’s dumb.” He cannot be serious. You sit next to him, grab his hands in yours and tell him to tell you anyways. He lets out another long sigh, before confessing. “I didn’t like when Wooyoung flirted with you, and you didn’t stop him.” You sit there for a second, not even understanding what he’s talking about.

Then it hits you, “You mean last Saturday? When I was drunk out of my mind?”. You shake your head and squeeze his hands. He frowns, before continuing, “I’m sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry for not telling you.” He quickly takes his hands out of yours, before facing you. “I love you. I love you more than anything.” Your jaw can’t help but drop, in pure shock. There’s no way.

“Seonghwa, don’t play with me.” You spit out at him, in pure denial of his words. But he reassures you, “I do. And I was so jealous, when it’s not my place to. You’re not mine.” Your eyes swell up with tears, part of you still not sure he’s telling the truth. But it’s Seonghwa, of course he is. “Hwa… I love you too.” He sits there, face blank. You can see when it finally hits him, that you like him back. You like each other.

He lets out the biggest sigh of relief, thankful that this constant state of secretly pining over each other can be over. You like him. No no, you love him. That’s all he could ever ask for. Once the silence finally sets in, he can’t help but apologize over and over again. There’s no way he really ignored you, when he could’ve just admitted his feelings to you. But it all worked out in the end.

The rest of the night consisted of gentle kisses, cuddling and telling each other all the untold feelings that were bottled up. You can help but lie in his arms, hoping to never leave his side again. This is the start of something new, something beautiful. The funny thing is, when you finally told the boys about your new relationship, Wooyoung shouted “Finally!”. There was nothing to worry about. He had you, and you had him.

I do not give permission for anyone to repost my work

[harry-on-broadway]

Never Been Prouder

Word Count: 1.8K || Rating: M

A/N: I had no plans to write anything other than TLL, but then Harry got nominated for six Grammy’s and the group chat got me thinking so this is all thanks to @hslllot​ and @harrysblackcoat​. Hope you enjoy! 

***

He didn’t want to talk about it.

At least that’s what he said on Monday morning.

“It’s just any other morning,” he said casually. “A normal Tuesday. Nothing really special about it.”

You knew he was lying though.

A new edge to his constant fidgeting and the way his eyes wouldn’t meet yours revealed that there was something simmering below the surface. But you knew him well enough to leave him be and resumed your Google search for the alcoholic beverage that could be both congratulatory and conciliatory.

You’d dashed off to work and he’d wandered off to the gym or the studio or Jeff’s office or wherever he decided to spend the hours before his show, and the topic didn’t come up again. Instead, the texts between you two were mundane – him asking the best way to get a wine stain off his hoodie and you asking how much milk was left in the fridge during your post-work grocery run.

In fact, it didn’t come up until later that night. You were both in bed, him reclined on his pillows, a warm compress over his eyes and you next to him, typing away at the last of your work emails as some movie you’d both seen twenty times over played in the background.

“What do you think my chances are?” he asked softly.

You turned to look at him. The cloth still covered his eyes and most of his face, so it was hard to discern where his head was at.

“Your chances of what? Getting lucky?” You had a clue about where this conversation was heading and didn’t want to miss a chance to inject some levity into the situation.

“I know my chances of that are always 100 percent,” he said slowly. You could hear the smirk in his voice. “No,” he continued. He swallowed thickly. “Of like tomorrow. Getting nominated.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about this,” you said, testing the waters.

“I didn’t, but now I do.” He eased himself up onto his elbows and pulled the cloth from his eyes. “I’m just…” He twisted the fabric between his fingers, still refusing to meet your eyes. “It’s going to happen, right? But…” he trailed off. “What if it doesn’t?”

You looked at him. Harry was normally the kind of person that filled a room, his energy and enthusiasm making him seem larger than life. But tonight, in your bedroom, he seemed much smaller and so unsure of himself.

“H,” you said, grabbing his chin and tilting his face so that you could look into his eyes. “I promise you this, your name is going to be called tomorrow. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. But if it isn’t that’s OK too.”

He exhaled slowly, trilling his lips. “It shouldn’t matter, but if tomorrow’s a bust I’m going to feel like I let everyone down.”

“You’ve done so much this year, baby. Coachella, the new album, the tour, the charts. It’s all so much more than anyone expected. No one would be disappointed in you.”

“But Tom, Tyler, Mitch. They’d -”

“Still be proud of you no matter what,” you finished, cutting him off.

“I guess.” He started to pick at the damp cloth again. “But what about…?”

The question he didn’t dare voice hung in the air.

When you all at first started dating, it was easy to see that the public aspect of his life weighed heavily on Harry. Your early dates were mostly filled with you talking and him listening. Slowly but surely though, once he was confident you weren’t hoping to hook up with him for the story or a boost in followers, he started to open up and your relationship blossomed in turn. In the years since, you’d made it abundantly clear that you were in love with Harry, not Harry Styles, but it was apparent that deep down, his fears that people were just using him for the moment still lingered.

“Harry, do you remember the conversation we had last year before you left for Vegas?”

He nodded. It had been an emotional discussion as you were both caught up in the realization that you’d be apart for the longest period of time since you started seeing each other. The night before he was set to head out, Harry was honest with you. About the difficulties of touring, how life on the road impacted relationships, how he’d always struggled to find the balance between the thing and the people he loved most.

But, he stressed that this time would be different and reaffirmed his commitment to your relationship. Even though he would be miles away, you remained his first priority. In the moment, you’d nodded and tried to stifle the tears that were ready to flow and the fear that these were just empty words.

But they weren’t.

He talked to you every day. He Doordashed you soup when you were sick and sent you flowers and a cupcake from your favorite bakery on your birthday. When you were having a tough week at work, he sent you meme after meme to make you smile. When he stopped at the bookstore you’d been wanting to visit, there was a book and postcard from the shop on your doorstep the next day. He kept his word and that itself meant more than anything.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be able to keep your promise,” you continued. “But you did. And knowing what kind of man you are, and how you are still that man no matter how much success comes your way. That’s worth more to me than having an Artist of the Year winner on my arm.”

Harry smiled softly, his cheeks pink. “Well, that’s a good thing since that’s not actually a category.”

“OK then,” you said with a laugh. “How about this…whether you get zero nominations, or 47 nominations –”

“I don’t think I can actually get that many,” he said with a sly grin.

“The point is regardless of if your name is called tomorrow morning, I’ve never been prouder of you than I am now. And nothing is going to change that.”

You leaned towards him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. When you pulled away, you could see that his eyes were watering. You weren’t sure if it was from the weight of the moment or his earlier injury, but you brought the pad of your thumb up to his face and wiped away the moisture that was collecting under his eyes. When you were done, he pulled your wrist to his lips, kissing the palm of your hand.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I sometimes need a reminder of what really matters.”

“That’s OK, H,” you said. “I’ll always be here for whatever you need. Why don’t we go to bed now.”

Harry nodded, tossing his rag in the laundry and stripping down to his briefs while you stowed your laptop on your nightstand and plugged your phone in to charge. When you had situated yourself under the sheets, Harry turned off the lights and joined you under the covers, wrapping you up in his arms.

His breath was slow and steady and you’d thought he drifted off – he always fell asleep much sooner than you did – until he spoke again. “I think we should do something tomorrow.”

“What? The Grammy nominations and a concert aren’t enough?”

“No, no, like something for just the two of us,” he chided. “Like something to look forward to no matter what happens. A treat of sorts.”

“OK…” you said slowly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Champagne,” he said confidently. “And a blow job.”

“Wow! You really had that one ready to go.”

“What? If I’m sad, both of those will make me feel better. And if I’m happy…no better way to celebrate.”

“Whatever you say,” you said, pressing a sleepy kiss to his pec. “I love you, Harry.”

“Love you, too,” you heard him mumble before drifting off to sleep.

***

The two of you woke to the sound of a phone vibrating. Once. Then again. Then again. And again until the vibrations were constant and Harry’s phone was sliding across the nightstand.

He rolled over to grab the device, quickly returning to his position beside you. He took a deep breath before looking at the screen.

You studied his face as he read through the notifications. Joy, disbelief, pure happiness, shock – he seemingly experienced every emotion in that moment before he looked at you again.

“Good news?” you asked.

He nodded. “Six nominations. Maybe another one. I’m not sure,” he stammered, words running together. “The majors too. Album, song, and record. Fuck,” he said, as a sob escaped him. “Fuck, I can’t believe it happened.”

“You deserve it, H,” you said, hugging him tightly until the embrace was interrupted by an incoming call.

“Shit,” he said, fumbling to answer it. “It’s just Jeffrey. I’ll call him later.”

“No, talk to him now,” you said, extracting yourself from the pile of blankets and Harry’s limbs. “Take your time. I’ll get breakfast ready.”

As you walked towards the door, you heard Jeff’s screams echoing through the phone speaker, mixing with Harry’s laughter. You padded into the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and fishing the bottle of champagne you’d purchased yesterday from the back of the pantry, pouring it into two flutes. Coffee and alcohol ready, you sat at the table scrolling through your phone, responding to a couple of congratulatory texts from your own friends and family, reassuring them that you’d pass their well-wishes on to Harry.

A few minutes later Harry appeared in the doorway, searching for you and breaking out into a wide grin when he found you.

“Coffee and a treat are ready for you,” you said, rising from your chair.

“Thank you,” Harry replied, clinking his glass of bubbly against yours before taking a sip.

“Good call with Jeff and the rest of the guys?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said with a smile. “They’re through the roof. Made sure to say that none of it matters and all that stuff…” he rolled his eyes. “But I heard that all from someone much smarter and prettier last night.”

“Who is this remarkable person?”

“The one standing in front of me.”

You leaned onto your tiptoes to kiss him, tasting the sweetness of the drink on his lips. “You did good, baby,” you whispered against them.

Harry wrapped his arm around you and buried his face in your neck. “I owe it all to you,” he whispered back.

He held you like that for a moment, until you wiggled around in his arms, grazing your fingers down his torso until you hooked them in the waistband of his shorts.

“Oh?” he said, pulling back to look at you with glee. “This is happening? Now?”

“What? That was the deal. Champagne,” you took a sip from your glass before setting it on the counter. “And now a blow job.” You rubbed your hands along his waist as you shimmied his shorts down his legs.

“You don’t have to do this, baby.”.

“That wasn’t the deal,” you shot back. “Last night I told you how proud I was, now it’s time to show you.”  

***

talk to me! 

[ejzah]

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 35

***

The call went better than expected. Monica’s lawyer was surprisingly civil and matter-of-fact, which Deeks appreciated. They agreed to meeting on Tuesday, his lawyer would be in attendance as well, to update the custody agreement. Hopefully they could resolve everything in one sitting, but he was prepared for it to be a prolonged process.

In the meantime, they were rolling into the final week of school, which meant Caleb had a few more assessments to complete. Mostly though, it meant he came home with an increasing number of projects from throughout the year and instructions for celebratory activities.

On Monday night, Deeks stayed up late with Caleb making a costume for the end-of-year party. Caleb had alternated between an artist and pirate for a couple weeks, and only decided last minute that he actually wanted to be Captain America. Thankfully, it was a simple enough design, since Deeks’ sewing and crafting skills were admittedly limited.

“Can you hand me a pin?” Deeks requested, holding out his hand in Caleb’s direction. Caleb carefully placed one in his palm. He balanced on his knees, he watched Deeks work, a pair of scissors held at the ready.

“Daddy, can I ask you a question?”

Deeks tucked the non-pointy end of a needle between his lips, readjusting the pile of fabric in front of him before resuming sewing. “If it’s why the shield is a little asymmetrical, it’s all part of the plan.” Caleb didn’t respond to that, so Deeks nudged him with his foot. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Is Mommy not coming to visit anymore?” he asked finally.

“I’m not sure, kiddo.“

Caleb dipped his head then, peeking up out of his banks sheepishly. “I heard you talking on the phone the other day with somebody about Mom. You said she couldn’t just show up here anymore whenever she wants,” he admitted reluctantly.

Deeks sighed internally. This was why he tried to conduct most of his personal business while Caleb was at school or asleep. He didn’t fault Caleb for being curious, but sometimes it certainly made life more complicated.

“Come here.” Deeks opened his arms, waiting until Caleb clambered onto his lap. His legs had grown so much in the last couple of years they extended over Deeks’ lap, nearly touching the ground. Once he was settled, Deeks wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight.

“You’re right, I was talking about your mom. Tomorrow we have a meeting to figure out if there’s a way for her to visit more regularly without it being such a big surprise. Now I don’t know if it’s going to work out that way,” Deeks explained. Caleb didn’t say anything, but Deeks could tell he was listening intently. “What do you think about that?”

“Will it always have to be a long visit?”

“It probably won’t be as many days in a row as this last time.”

Caleb nodded, his face contemplative. “I guess that sounds ok,” he decided. Taking one of Deeks’ hands, he started forming his fingers into various configurations. He gave a little sigh that was too heavy for a five year old. “I love Mommy, but sometimes it’s hard to be with her. Does that make sense.”

“It makes a lot of sense.“ Deeks kissed the top of his head. “I wish is was easier.”

“Me too.”

Deeks patted his thigh, scooching him back on the floor. “C’mon, let’s get this costume finished up before it’s time to wake up for school.”

***

Deeks took a half day on Tuesday for the meeting with Monica. When he reached the office where they were meeting, Monica had already arrived. For once, she didn’t attempt to flirt or intimidate him, outside of a pointed look before she turned back to talk with her lawyer.

Three hours later, Deeks walked out, exhausted, but cautiously optimistic. Assuming Monica didn’t come back with any changes, they’d successfully modified the custody agreement.

Kensi was supposed to come over for dinner, so Deeks rushed to pick up Caleb, and grabbed pizza on the way home. While Caleb finished up the tiny bit of homework assigned, Deeks tossed the pizzas in a couple of skillets to reheat. It was hardly a gourmet meal, but he figured Kensi would forgive him.

The doorbell rang while he was in the middle of throwing together a very simple salad of lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, and avocado.

“Caleb, can you get that? Check to make sure it’s Kensi before you unlock the door, ok?” he requested in between dicing a small cucumber.

“Kay!” He ran off, his bare feet slapping against the floor. Deeks heard the indistinct sound of his and Kensi’s voices.

“Hey.” Kensi wrapped her arms around him from behind, and kissed his neck. He grinned, twisting his neck so he could reach her mouth.

“Hey. I think I could get used to this.”

“Mm. Thanks for feeding me again. It smells delicious,” she said, snatching a piece of cucumber from the cutting board.

“I’ll pass it on to Peter, my pizza guy. How was your day?” he asked. He offered Kensi a handful of clean lettuce leaves, which she accepted with a smile.

“Chaotic, but that’s to be expected at this point. Even the kids who love school are ready to break out. The ten thousand and one activities paired with candy and ice cream parties doesn’t exactly help,” she answered.

“Yeah, I noticed. Caleb spent the entire drive home singing and bouncing in his seat.”

“I’m sorry about that. It’s only three more days though.”

“I know it’s, crazy. I don’t think I’m ready for first grade,” he said, shaking his head. Kensi made a sympathetic face.

“Aw, you’ll be ok. And so will Caleb.” Moving around the kitchen with familiarity, Kensi got out three place settings, and started placing them in the usual spots around the table.

Deeks checked the bottoms of the pizzas, which had browned up nicely, and he turned off the heat, sliding each pizza onto a large cutting board.

“Hey, earlier you mentioned something about a surprise,” he said as he worked. “Do I get to hear all the juicy details?”

“Yes, but tell me about the meeting today. I kept thinking about you all afternoon.” Retrieving two cold beers from the fridge, Kensi sat down, patting the chair beside her.

Deeks groaned, feeling everyone of his 30-some years. “It went as well as can be expected. We drafted a new custody agreement. Monica will get two days of visitation per month, at a secondary location we both agree on. We initially suggested more, but she said that she couldn’t agree to that commitment at the current time,” Deeks explained. He rubbed his eyes and groaned again. “I really wish it hadn’t come to this.”

“Do you think she’ll follow through?” Kensi asked, distractedly nibbling on another piece of cucumber.

“I honestly have no idea,” Deeks admitted. He sighed heavily, shaking his head, and Kensi rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “She could either come because she actually wants to see Caleb consistently now, to prove a point, or just skip out again.”

“I’m sorry. For Caleb’s sake, I hope she does.”

“Yeah. At least now we should have fewer unexpected visits, which is all I wanted.”

“You made the right choice,” Kensi assured him. He appreciated it; he’d probably always question his decision to a degree, but it helped that Kensi didn’t think he was a complete monster. “Alright, now you tell me about your secret. Are you moving to Aruba, joining a traveling circus, buying me a puppy?”

Kensi snorted. “Not quite. A few weeks ago, I applied for a teaching position at University of California, Los Angeles, and today I got a call saying they’d like to hire me. So, I’ll be teaching a couple of Spanish classes this summer,” Kensi shared, unable to hold back a grin.

“Kensi, that’s fantastic!” Deeks exclaimed, getting up and picking her up to swing around the room. She tilted her head back, laughing in obvious delight. He set her back down again, keeping one hand on her waist. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“You were dealing with all the Monica stuff and I didn’t want to add anything else to your plate.” She folded her hand over his. “Besides, I wasn’t really sure that they’d even offer me an interview. If it didn’t go anywhere, I wanted to wallow all on my own.”

“Hey, I will always wallow with you. I’m great at it. We’ll get some wine, cookies, make a whole night of it,” Deeks said.

“You’re ridiculous.” She kissed him softly, her lips lingering long enough that he felt a tingle of warmth building in his chest. When Kensi pulled back, she brushed his hair back from his forehead. “I love it. And you.”

“Love you too.” They kissed again, this time for just a few seconds

“You know, this kind of news deserves a celebration. We’ve got wine and mint Oreos. Only the best for you.”

“Now how could I say no to an offer like that,” Kensi teased, untangling her arms from around him. “I’m going to go wrangle Caleb while you dig out those Oreos.”

Wiggling her eyebrow ridiculously, Kensi walked out to the sound of Deeks’ laughter.

[sk8termikey]

Chapter 9 of 21 Questions

better interface on wattpad

Lily loml🌻

Bro

The triplets 1st podcast is today

I’m so excited

It seemed awesome already from the trailer last week

I knooow

Kinda mad if it's every monday bc it’s my closing day

Sucks to be you

I love my day off even more now💃🏻💃🏻

Jk i’ll wait for you to watch it tonight like you do for the other vids

Thanks bestie😞

<33

Also the fact they’re gonna have guests is really cool

I really can’t wait to watch the first one

I know they probs have a few episodes recorded

But i hope it won’t be too much work for them now

Ye

3 vids a week

Esp nick who has to edit

Nick our king >>

Fact

Btw i might be home a bit earlier bc the café is kinda dead rn

Just the old couple that comes weekly and they’re almost done

So you won't wait much for me to watch the podcast

Yayy

The one together for 50 years?

I love those old ladies, they’re so cute

Fr and they always leave a huge tip

We don’t deserve them😞

Anyways see you in an hour or so ig

See you soon🫶🏻

When Alex put her phone back in her pocket, the “old ladies” as described by Lily were getting ready to leave. When they reached the counter, they both gave the blonde a sweet smile as one of them pulled out a bill from her wallet.

“The chocolate cake was delicious as always, but did you guys change anything?” One of the ladies asked.

“Yeah Lily did!” Alex knew that her friend would be excited to know that someone had noticed. “She tried adding some chocolate shavings before putting the cake in the oven.”

“Now I’m going to have a hard time deciding which one I like most, but it was as good as the usual recipe. You'll tell her that it reminds me of how my mum would make it”.

Alex couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. The couple had never once been rude to her and her other coworkers when they would come. Lily was always glad when they would compliment her food and it helped improve her self-confidence as chocolate desserts were basically the only thing Lily had mastered. Alex was really happy that she would be able to pass on the message to her friend.

Alex was finally able to close the café after the happy couple left and because the day had been a slow one, she had had time to clean little by little so that she didn’t have much left to do now.

~~~

When Alex arrived home, Lily was waiting for her on the couch. The TV was already set up on the Cut the Camera YouTube channel and some snacks were waiting for the two girls on the table. Alex told Lily to start the podcast as she would just be grabbing a can of Dr. Pepper in the fridge. As Lily did so and clicked on the video, the first out of many “Good morning Campers” from Nick Sturniolo could be heard in the house.

The podcast first started with Nick, Matt and Chris talking about looking alike, which is something that never bothered them much as they know that their viewers are easily able to differentiate them – even Lily could do it without problem by now.

As they then mentioned the fact that some pairs of best friends sometimes looked more alike than them, Lily and Alex exchanged a quick glance before laughing. Even though they had been friends since middle school, they had barely anything in common regarding their physical appearance.

The podcast kept dwelling on growing up as triplets, regarding the impact it could have on their friends but also the annoying comments they would always get from people. However, as they were mostly talking about the negative outcomes, they decided to start listing the positive aspects of growing up with two other people. Nick, Matt and Chris all agreed that being a triplet was the same as having built-in friends who were here for you at all times.

A couple of minutes later, Chris highlighted the support he always felt from his brothers and that the three of them being on the same page is something they all feel lucky about.

Then, as the topic of constant comparison was being tackled, Lily and Alex were quietly listening. The two girls felt very close to the triplets in the way that they were learning about their struggles. Them being so open about it was an opportunity to understand how the Life as Triplets was. What hit the hardest was the moment when Matt summarised the small conversation by explaining that no matter if it's about similarities or differences, people still find a way to compare them.

The podcast eventually finished on a more light-hearted tone as Nick, Matt and Chris were laughing about their high school experience when someone would meet one of them without knowing that they were a triplet. This would lead to them pretending to be one another just for a two seconds conversation in the hallways – and then at the end of the day, debriefing who came up to talk to each of them.

“I just loved it so much, oh my god!” Alex exclaimed as the video ended.

“Me too, like– I absolutely adore the Wednesday and Friday videos but this type of content is so refreshing I don't know”, Lily agreed with her friend. “I feel closer to them, make it make sense I guess”.

“I get you don’t worry, I know we’re gonna have another perspective of their lives and they’re gonna enjoy giving it to us as much as we’re gonna enjoy learning about it.”

“Exactly like…” Lily thought for a few seconds, “an inside point of view of not only the Sturniolo Triplets but simply Nick, Matt and Chris as people, just individuals. This is what they're trying to make people realise, they're not only triplets – even though that's a bit of their brand I guess – but they are also their own person.”

The two girls were just really excited to see more of this new project from the triplets, although Alex had to share some semi bad news:

“However, I have no idea if I’ll have the motivation to watch an hour of podcast every Monday when I come home from work”.

“Oh yeah, I understand”. Lily put a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder while trying to find a solution. “Just pick a day and we’ll catch up at that time!”

“I mean, I might not even watch it weekly if I’m honest so– I won’t mind and it might actually be best that you watch them whenever you want like when they come out if that’s what you prefer and I’ll postpone my ‘watch podcast sessions’ until I have enough attention span to listen to them for a whole hour”, Alex explained.

“If that’s okay with you yeah I’m fine with that”, Lily let out a smile. “We’ll still have to discuss it obviously”.

“Of course”, Alex immediately agreed. “Lots of new info we’ll have to talk about!”

What they didn’t know yet is that watching the next podcasts on their own would finally enable Lily to choose her favourite triplet as she would realise that one of them might be a bit too relatable for her taste, and maybe a tiny bit too attractive on camera.

Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated if you like this story :) The story is co-written w @/little_grapejuice on wattpad

[sillygoofyboii]

Random OC thing

Please note that I am not a professional writer I just put words together and hope that it’s good enough. Enjoy the food chat.

Also, I’m sorry if this is bad. Just expect bad writing from me 💀

—🌸—

Once, there was a laurenstine, in her most beautiful state. Petals in full display, beautifully shown in the sun’s direction. Once, an amaryllis came by, catching the laurenstine’s eye and letting a red rose bloom. They bonded, talked, exchanged numbers and parted ways. “Please, be careful. Don’t get too attached, for your Arborvitae will wilt and leave you in pieces.” The blackthorn foretold. “She’ll be fine,” the laurenstine protested, “she will be fine, for the soil is rich. There is no danger.”

Their relationship bloomed into something more as the laurenstine left from her old garden to be with the amaryllis, her job had bad working conditions anyways. The amaryllis still had a job though, so the laurenstine had to say goodbye frequently. “See you later, my little astragalus.” She yelled out to her from the kitchen as she left. She cleaned the kitchen as she waited for the average afternoon call from the amaryllis.

she waited.

she waited.

(The snapdragon dragged the arborvitae away from the phone)

and waited.

(“Not while there’s work to do,” she lectured to amaryllis, “you’re close to a breakthrough, don’t get distracted.”)

and waited.

(“…Fine. I’ll call her-“ “Don’t call her during work.” “Fine, after work.” “Good girl.”)

….A champignon bloomed as the amaryllis didn’t pick up. She spoke into the phone, even if the astragalus wasn’t gonna pick up.

“Hello, love. I know you usually call to check up on me, but it has been 5 hours since the usual time you call, I’m getting worried. …I’m fine currently, are you?” Silence from the other line. “…I’ll see you when you come home.” Soon, the clock screamed ‘8’ and the amaryllis came. “I’m sorry I haven’t called, my boss has gotten stricter.” The laurenstine scoffed at that, her distaste for snapdragon growing. The same thing happened the next day.

And the next.

and the next.

There was only one call from the amaryllis during the entirety of that week, and even that was a short call that the nightshade walked in on.

…At some point, amaryllis stopped coming home.

Only one call explained it.

“Hey, uh, babe…Sooooo I got a raise for a little discovery I made in the lab, bad news, I’m probably going to be way busier than normal. I’m sorry.”

The laurenstine sighed. She had already deepcleaned the house multiple times out of boredom without the arborvitae, so she took up sewing. The table is covered in thread and plushies (mostly of fish, some weird white four-legged creature with big eyes, and of amaryllis). She made a quick call to a friend of hers after she got bored of sewing and her pitiful attempts at crocheting. “My dear blackthorn,” she began. “I’m sorry that I’m not calling to talk to you about anything important to you, but I need to know; is my dearest okay?” “Of course I’m okay, I never left my house since Monday.” “I love you too, but I was not talking about you. I meant my love, my light, my other half.” Blackthorn chuckled on the other line when laurenstine said that. “And you used to say that you two were ‘just friends’? Anyways, jokes aside, lose your attachment. She will be gone, her fate being sealed. You’ve been missed while she was gone, but her return will not happen. I do not condone calling her every five seconds, for you will get a call soon. When you do, listen carefully, for the words will not be repeated.” Blackthorn quickly hung up, leaving the laurenstine silent. She knew the blackthorn told her not to call the amaryllis yet, but it was routine at this point. Laurenstine never broke routine. “…Day 1, I guess. I just called the blackthorn. They said some…important words to note, so that will be kept in mind. I might do some tarot soon.”

“Day 7, I was able to finally crochet a square, I’m never doing it again. I hope you’re doing better than me though.”

“Day 14, me and blackthorn finally had a normal hangout. They introduced me to some new friends, I hope you’re doing well.”

“Day 20, I got a job as a cohost for a game show. Wish me luck!”

“…Day 21….uh….hm….Soooo, remember that one coworker we used to have? Yeah, she’s my boss now….I’m convinced that she’s gonna murder me in my sleep. I hope you’re doing well.”

“Day 35, I finally met up with those ‘new friends’ I talked about….It..went well I guess? I hope you’re doing well.”

“Day 67, I physically feel unhealthy. Emotionally, I mean. I was always physically unhealthy….That probably made no sense. I….hope you’re doing okay.”

“Day…What was the number again? Ah, day 134. I feel like tearing my eyes out.”

(The amaryllis paused. She was knee deep in work, there being no phone in the room for her to use. She quickly went to talk with snapdragon. “Let’s make a deal,” she said. “You never like it when I try to call or communicate with my girlfriend because it distracts me from work, right?” “Correct. Where are you going with this?” “…If I am able to record a message during my break for her and let it play when she usually calls, I’ll be able to finally leave her a reply for once and do my work. So, what do you say?” The amaryllis waited eagerly for a response. “Fine.” The snapdragon said. “You may give her a recording, I guess. Now leave my office, you have work to do.”)

“Day 236. Please call me. I need you here.”

“Day 365. Happy New Year. The fact that you haven’t called in a year is super concerning. I really hope you’re okay.”

“Day 474. Come back to me, Princess. My bones feel flaccid.”

“Day I-lost-count. Come back. Please.”

“Day 5 hundred- who gives a crap. Come home. I miss you. I need you with me.”

“Day 608. …I saw you in a dream. You apologized for so many things. Please know I forgive you, just come back to me. Please.”

The laurenstine felt like she had wilted, but she was still in decent health. Sure, her appearance was a bit disheveled, but she was fine. It was just the loneliness in the house. “I’m fine.” She repeated to herself, over and over, wishing the statement was true. Soon, she heard her phone ring, assuming that it was the blackthorn, she picked up.

“Hey gurl-“

“Hello, this is a prerecorded message.” The voice was instantly recognizable as the amaryllis.

“This is the only way I’m able to contact you. I have been getting a steady amount of work done and good amount of money, so I’d say I’ve been doing fine. I’ve made a breakthrough, but it is private. Only the company knows what it is. I might be gone for a bit to work on another project, so I’ve decided to trust you with it. The project is a-“

The recording was paused and then another voice came “That was from a good few months ago,” snapdragon stated. “She has…gone missing now. Come to her office on Saturday, she had some tapes and videos she wanted to show you.” snapdragon quickly hung up without another word, leaving quickly to wash the blood dirt and off her hands, quickly taking amaryllis’s project plans, erasing her name, and replacing it with her own to show the higher ups.

Saturday came quick and the words blackthorn said didn’t help. All they said was a simple “Good luck. And I’m sorry.” The walk there was slow, yet even with the seemingly excruciating pace, time seemed to blur and the laurenstine found herself in the amaryllis’s office with some tapes, a broken tv, and a corpse in the chair. Killed by a nightshade, a ‘thorn’ had pricked the flower’s stem. The amaryllis had lost her former beauty, flies and other plants eating away at her remains, it sickened the laurenstine to her core. She sobbed, threw up, screamed. She already wanted to leave. She took the tv and the tapes and ran to another room, her former office. She denied what she saw.

She decided to throw out some of the plushies she made of amaryllis that day.

—👁️—

Once, there was a woman. A simple person put in a not so simple situation. She made herself look somewhat presentable, for there was a guest over.

“I hate to say it, but I told ya not to get too attached.” The guest said, resting their feet on the table.

The woman, Gwen, immediately scoffed at that.

“Mal, I love ya, but shut the fuck up.” —

List of symbolisms used

[widgenstain]

Alright, almost a week later, here is my review of Vanya and the night I saw it. Autocorrect didn't let me type this on my phone in my grimy bunk bed and that cold got me good, but here are my thoughts! @itsathingialwayssay , @shegottosayit , @illfayted17 this might interest you. Be aware, there are spoilers for the play as well as the production behind the read more.

I saw the play on Monday September 25th, so my opinions are based on that evening, can’t say anything about other nights!

I’ll start with some negatives:

The theatre. Not so much the interior or the personnel, who are absolutely lovely, but why oh why did I have to hear the trains throughout the whole performance?! At first, I thought it was on purpose, with it being the Russian country side, so you might hear some trains here and there, but no, it’s Charing Cross that you hear. Also it’s freaking expensive, but we knew that.

Secondly, I was annoyed by the audience. It was a surprisingly large number of classic elderly theatre goers, who all seemed to enjoy themselves a lot (except for one guy who snored), some teenagers dragged there by their parents (or the promise of seeing Moriarty) and some assholes, like the ladies next to me. One came in after the first act, prosecco in hand, they whispered to each other during weird moments and generally seemed bored and/or disappointed. Which is their prerogative, you don’t have to like everything I do, but with these two it seemed… performative.

Also, about the standing ovations: I get Andrew’s critique, it’s dumb if you feel like you MUST do it, but the fact is, that in a theatre that small, you don’t get to see the person bowing, if you don’t stand up. So yeah, people stood up, I did too (because unlike in Austria where you clap for like 5 minutes if you DIDN’T like it and for like 30 if you did, in the UK they only come out to take a bow once or twice and I wanted to see him), but these two ladies just left with sourpuss faces.

Thirdly the cigarettes. I knew he was going to smoke on stage, what I wasn’t prepared for was them smelling this bad. They’re not normal cigarettes, they’re of the self-rolled, cheap student tobacco kind, that you only really use for blunts. They reeked. If you’re in the first few rows, I’m sorry.

Fourthly, I don’t know if the play really lent itself to a one man show. Don’t get me wrong, I loved what Simon did with it, the way he mostly cut out the love rivalry between Vanya and the doctor, and shifted the focus more on Helena was a great decision. It made the play more cohesive and boiled it down to its message quicker. Loved the modern language and the Britishisms (could have dealt without the name changes, no one is called Vanya in a play named Vanya) and it was truly laugh out loud funny at times, which is great, because I’m depressed enough without listening to depressed Russian people for a full show.

But still, while it all worked in the end, I think there are plays better suited for this treatment. I have spoken to shegottosayit about this, but I also think they kinda expected a familiarity with the play, because it helps you following the plot. I talked to two girls in the queue outside though and they weren’t familiar with the play and understood it well, so what do I know.

Which brings me to the great stuff. The whole thing starts with Andrew just wandering on stage, smiling into the audience, switching off our lights and turning them on on stage. As if to communicate, ok, we’re in the theatre, you’re here to watch a play, I am an actor doing that play, like we’re all in on a joke. He starts with the different characters and they all have an identifier. For example, Vanya has his sunglasses, Helena her chain, Sonya her dishrag and it’s all nice, haha, see the actor is using props, so you know who is who, it’s simple and harmless. That’s how he gets you. Because he doesn’t need them and over the course of the play he starts playing and fucking with them and it’s SO GOOD!

He doesn’t change his voice much between characters, except the two “funny” ones (and maybe Alexander), there he goes a bit into more comical registers, but for the main characters he pretty much uses the same voice. And you still can tell them apart! Because he changes posture, his body language, yes, his tone, but not his voice and the levels of masculinity and femininity (in a traditional sense), yet he never veers into camp or offensive (that aspect really fed into my unpopular opinion on the whole “straight actors in gay roles” discourse, which I will never talk about). It’s incredible to watch how fast and seamlessly he does that and how effortless too. That’s the craziest thing about watching him act, he makes it seem easy, as if it’s nothing to him.

And the faces. The theatre has opera binoculars you can rent for one pound, I forgot my glasses (mild myopia, objects further away get blurry after a long day, especially if they’re an actor I’m watching from the second to last row), so I was super glad to have them and look at his face close up. What did I see? He changes faces. I’ve seen him do it before, but in this it’s instantly and so quickly! I’m not gonna lie, it’s a bit creepy how he can change his facial shape somehow and go from sweet Sonya to hardened Ivan Vanya. It’s not just countenance or expressions, it’s something else and wow is it impressive! But a bit scary too once you think about it. ^^’

Also “zooming in” on him really cleared up something I’ve been wondering about ever since I’ve seen King Lear: One of Andrew’s biggest shortcomings on film can be that he sometimes comes across as too much, as a bit over the top. It is a theatre actor thing and he’s not the only one doing it (especially not in King Lear) and yes, that completely disappears live on stage. He acts for the whole house, but it always feels natural.

The one thing that felt a little bit forced was the singing in the end, he's right, he’s not a good singer (sorry!) and it took me out a little bit. The ending of Vanya is beautiful and heartfelt, I get what they wanted to achieve with him singing “If you go away”, it was a pause, a mood setter, but I think there are better ways to do this than through a musical interlude. That said, I saw A Little Life the other night, which is by the same production company, they made poor James Norton sing too and compared to him Andrew sings like an angel. So maybe I’m just a massive snob (hint: I am).

The other things that took me out a little were the sex scenes. Yeah, sex scenes in a one man play where the original play has none (at least not explicitly so). Damn, it’s been almost a week and my mind is still reeling from them. Did I like them? I have no fucking clue! I seriously need to talk to someone who didn’t have Andrew star in all her lonely sexy fantasies for the past 4 years, because I need to know how they affected someone with a normal, working brain who is not me.

I was torn between “wtf is going on” “JESUS HE TOOK HIS SHIRT OFF” “…you’re watching a dude make out with himself…” “…the sounds…” “don’t look at his naked back while he’s humping the stage, that’s rude, OH GOD YES LOOK AT HIS NAKED BACK, LOOK AT IT MOVE”. The second scene was even worse, because he’s standing up against a door, entangles his fucking impressive arms and moans as the lady while you see him move as the guy. Which was, yes, hotconfusingweird too, but I could have dealt with it, if he hadn’t mimed the penetration literally two seconds before and my brain just short-circuited and disappeared downstairs. The third confusingly hot thing happens in the end, when the doctor says his goodbyes. It’s actually a very good and touching scene, it has been set up that he’s falling into alcoholism and now that all his endeavours are nil, he downs more than half a bottle of vodka. We’ve all seen Andrew chug that beer in The Town and he does it here as well, but it takes a while and it’s so quiet in the theatre that you can hear him swallow and cry all the way through. Yeah. Yeah, I know.

Seriously though, there are more than one moment when the whole theatre is just stock-still. I mean, people laughed and reacted, again, one guy snored, I sighed a lot at Sonya (#ohlookitme), but in the important moments the theatre was dead quiet. Except for Charing Cross, of course.

When I left the theatre, my brain was buzzing and I walked out right into the backstage area. I read “backstage to the right” and was ready to walk to the right, even though no one was there. Except that stupid me HAD to ask the security, who I recognised from pics and the Cyrano backstage, if that was the way to the signings. And no, it wasn’t, that’s literally in front of the theatre (and honestly, probably why there are no selfies allowed this time, if they were, people would block that busy street for hours), I was walking towards the actual stage door. If I had had just one ounce of more self-confidence, I just could have kept on walking into the dressing rooms, God damnit!! (I’m kidding, I would never do that, and it would most likely get me banned for life, but still, it was a funny situation and that security was actually really nice and cool).

As for the signing, it’s a straight-forward affair, you line up, you move forwards, he signs your stuff, you move on (except if you’re an old lady, but more of that later). I soaked him in in all my manic brain overloaded happiness while waiting for my turn though, and the first thing I noticed was that he isn’t as short as people pretend he is. Yes, he wore some trainers with a thicker sole, but with them he wasn’t that much shorter than I am. Perfect height, for eye-contact, just saying.

Second thing was that he’s in the shape of his life, dear Lord! I always read him as wiry, which can look buff on screen, but no, he’s genuinely, proper buff. Those are some serious arms and just generally he’s wider than I would have expected. Other than that, he looks pretty much exactly like he does on screen. Some actors don’t, they’re either plainer or prettier (Anne-Marie Duff, she really was fucked over by some cruel form of unphotogenicness) in fact, the second night I went there I saw Sam Yates (he shook my hand :D) and he does not look like he does in pics for example. Andrew does. He has a fascinating and alive face and looks just like he did in that Vanity Fair video, except without the orange goo.

The first night I saw Simon Stephens coming out the stage door too and I literally hopped over to him, beaming like a loon. He and the people he was with were SO nice and so helpful, he signed my version of Vanya (the German edition) and I could actually voice my thoughts (which I couldn’t with Andrew) and tell him how much his interviews have helped me through the lockdowns and how I admire his writing, bla bla bla.

Anyway, I made him laugh, he shook my hand and said “it was a pleasure meeting you [widge’s real name]” in which moment my jaw literally did that looney tunes thing and dropped to my chest. Night was MADE, you don’t understand how much!

[Here I cut out a large chunk of extra thoughts to allow myself to post this in the tags]

Anyway, back to the old lady, she was the one who made Andrew laugh during the signing (LOVE that laugh), I passed her on the way back to the train and had to talk to her. She was a proper lady, dressed elegantly and she was the first damn person outside the theatre who understood my need to DISCUSS the play! Everyone else in the line was talking about other things, I had to PROCESS what had happened. She and her assistant were so cool, and she said she’d absolutely loved it and had a ton of other well thought through opinions on it. Big fan of her, no idea what her name is, but we all should get some cool older ladies to talk about theatre with, when our brains are buzzing with so many new impressions!

I aimlessly wandered on over the Thames after that, sat down in some red paint on the way, which made my jeans look interesting for the rest of the trip and had to just move for a while to cool down. I did go to the queue the next day too, just to be a little less tongue tied around Andrew (it did not work, whatsoever xD), but that was the day Joe Alwyn and a fox made an appearance, so it was totally worth it. As was the whole international camaraderie in the queue. Honestly, I’ve missed that, just people being excited about something together, I got hugged by a tiny Indian (?) girl and a Russian lady, all because we’re a bunch of excited nerds outside of theatre. It felt fucking great.

[darkesttimelinestuff]

"Honestly, why would I care?"

Diana interrupts drinks, but I think our agents will be just fine on day 6 of Fictober 2023.

Prompt #26 - "Honestly, why would I care?"

Casey’s Bar and Grill was busy for a Monday night, the crowd rowdy with excitement as the Giants played the 49ers. Normally, Scully would sip her beer and people watch, while Mulder droned on about Glastonbury Glawackus, or the Devil’s Pet of Elizabeth Lake, occasionally offering a scientific rebuttal to his theory, but today she was fully invested in the game.

“Who do you think is going to win?” Mulder asked, changing the subject. 

“My money’s on New York,” Scully replied confidently.

“Would you like to make a friendly wager?” 

“Are you…” 

But their conversation was interrupted when a slender arm sheathed in a designer jacket wrapped itself around Mulder’s shoulders, catching them both by surprise. Diana Fowley smiled down at Mulder,  

Scully struggled to maintain a neutral expression. There had been a disconnect in her relationship with Mulder and it was wearing on her. Somewhere along the line Diana Fowley showed up and tore a small hole in the fabric of their friendship. And the hole continued to grow. Their partnership hadn’t been affected and she thanked whatever divine being Mulder would acknowledge for that. He still counted on her, trusted her with his life, even if he didn’t trust her with the X-Files. 

And she would never let anything happen to him. Or their work. 

“Oh hey, Diana,” Mulder said.

“Fox, so good to see you here!” she said, overly chipper. 

Probably drunk, Scully thought.

“Hello, Agent Scully,” Diana said, dully.

“Hello,” Scully replied tersely. 

Diana turned her attention back to Mulder, smiling at him like a newly discovered cryptid. “It’s rather warm in here, don’t you think?” she said, shrugging out of her jacket. Her satin, v-neck tank top was cut low, her chest level with Mulder’s eyeline. 

“Thanks for stopping by, Diana,” Mulder said, curtly. 

“Are you enjoying the game?” she asked, not taking the hint.

“It was fine. We were mostly talking about work,” Mulder said.

“That’s just like you, Fox. Well, I should get back to my drink. Just wanted to say hello and thank you for everything the other night.”

Diana bent down and gave Mulder a kiss on the cheek, her chest rubbing along his arm as she came up. The kiss came dangerously close to his lips and he pulled away. 

“Good night, Diana,” he said in a definitive tone.

“Night, Fox. Good night, Agent Scully.” And with that, Diana was gone.

“Look, Scully,” Mulder began. 

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Scully said. It was something she would rather not dwell on.

“No, it’s not. Look, I… we have a past, Diana and I. But that’s all over with…”

“Honestly, why would I care?” Scully spat. “I won’t make this personal.”

Mulder reached for her hand and she didn’t pull away. “No, stop. Listen. Please. It was insensitive of me to say that. I was an ass and I’m sorry. Diana and I… we have a past. And yes, it was nice to see her after so long. It gave me a sense of closure I never thought I’d get. Diana left very suddenly. But I also realized that I’m glad she’s in the past.”

“You are?” Scully said, relaxing her shoulders for the first time since Diana had stopped by to say hello. 

“Yes. She’s the past. And you’re my present. And, hopefully, my future. We’re doing great things. You helped me save the world and I can’t imagine doing that with anyone but you. Past, present, and future. Whatever our future may look like.”

For the second time in just a matter of months he had found a way to render her speechless. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She searched his face for any indication that he was placating her, but found only his soft, earnest eyes. 

She searched her heart for what to say. He had said similar things in a hallway not long ago. And then Diana came in and changed everything. Or so she thought. 

“I’m not sure how to respond to that,” she confessed. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know how I feel.”

Scully raised a hand to his face, her fingers gingerly grazing his cheek where Diana had kissed him. She inched forward, unsure of her own intentions. 

It’s as if she weren’t even thinking, something she rarely did. Every part of her life was carefully planned. Her career, her social life (when she had one), and, after leaving Daniel and joining the F.B.I., even her sex life. So when she had slept with Ed, she had thought it through carefully (with the set of facts she had about him). Life was a delicate balance that she wouldn’t upset over some careless act. 

She leaned forward and brushed his lips with her own to see what he would do. 

She had expected some response, but he stared blankly into her eyes. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

“No, don’t be,” he said, dazed. “I just wasn’t expecting that tonight.”

“Neither was I. Life can be surprising sometimes.”

“Scully,” he began, but she grabbed his head with both hands, kissing him hard. 

They pulled apart, panting. 

“Yes?” she asked.

“I meant what I said. In the hospital. After the Bermuda Triangle.”

Now it was Scully’s turn to stare blankly. He remembered. She didn’t think he would with all the medication and the head trauma he had suffered. But he remembered. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassured. “But it was true then and it’s true now. I made it clear to Diana long ago that I am not interested in anything more than a professional relationship with her. She had some questions about a case she’s working on and asked me to take a look. That’s all.”

Scully nodded, processing, everything.

[kamryn1963]

So Long, London- Chapter 16\30

This chapter is a little late but I've had no motivation at all lately so I'm actually surprised I managed to write it today, haha.

I think I'm going to go down to just updating on Monday's. I was trying for twice a week but with school starting up in a couple weeks for me and having a couple more drafts I want to work on, that's a easier goal for me to hit.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this one!

A few hours later Lexi was medically cleared and discharged into Al’s care. She was mostly unresponsive as Al gently guided her to his car. Lexi was still clutching Meredith’s wedding ring and hadn’t said anything since she stopped crying. 

Al had been able to get her to wash her hands and arms and get the blood off, but Lexi had been spaced out that whole process. 

Al had stepped out an hour earlier to call Michelle and update her so she knew what was happening and what to expect. Michelle had told him that she was going to meet a friend so she wasn’t overcrowding Lexi when they got back. 

Al had protested, this was Michelle’s home too and he didn’t want her to feel like she wasn’t welcomed. Michelle had been insistent though and Al eventually agreed once he made sure this friend wasn’t a bad influence or anything. 

Now Al was driving home. Lexi was sitting silently in the passenger seat, one hand holding Al’s and the other fidgeting with Meredith’s ring. Occasionally she looked at him but she never said anything and neither did Al. He’d stay quiet but he was right there for when she was ready to talk. 

Back at Al’s apartment was when Lexi spoke. Al had reheated some leftovers for them to eat and after they both picked at their meals more than eating them, they had settled onto the couch. Al was flipping through the channels finding something to watch for background noise, when Lexi said something. 

“She’s gone”. Lexi’s voice was quiet, distant and hoarse from the sobbing she’d done earlier. 

“She is”. Al replied his voice just as quietly. It was hitting him too. Him and Meredith might’ve recently divorced but they were still married for twenty years. He still had a life with her for so long. She was his whole world for almost half his life. 

“We were arguing. I don’t remember about what. It was stupid. But I- I distracted mom, that’s why we were in an accident. It was my fault”. Lexi sobbed and Al didn’t hesitate before he held his daughter again as she sobbed her cries loud and raw. 

“Hey, hey, breathe Lex. It’s not your fault, not at all, baby. Not at all. The only person at fault here is the drunk driver who hit you guys. You have no fault in this”. Al reassured. A singular tear fell down his face as he heard the words coming out of Lexi’s mouth. 

“It is! Dad, it's my fault. Our last conversation was us yelling at each other, and then- then she was bleeding and blood was coming out of her mouth and- and”. Lexi trailed off as talking became too hard and the sobs took over again. 

Al pulled her against him as another tear fell down his face. God, what had they done to deserve this? What had Lexi, his perfect little girl, done to deserve this. She didn’t deserve to be paying for the sins of her parents. 

“Lexi, listen to me. It’s not your fault, okay? Your mom knew how much you loved her”. Al responded as firmly as he could in that moment. 

Lexi’s sobs died off just enough for her to speak again. She sagged against him, exhaustion and the pain from her injuries taking over. “She said my name, mom said my name right before she died. And your name. There was a smile on her face when she died”. 

Al felt like the air was knocked out of him at that. He wanted to sob himself, figure out how the hell everything has blown up like it did. But he couldn’t. Not until Lexi was okay, until she was asleep. 

“Mom, still loved you”. Lexi said. There were still tears streaming down her face but her sobs had calmed as she looked at her dad. 

“I still loved her”. Al said honestly. He did. He thinks he always would. She was his wife for so long, his first true love. 

Lexi just smiled, her smile was sad and fragile and Al returned it as he leaned against the couch, Lexi still leaning her head against his chest from where she was sitting next to him. 

Lexi eventually headed to her room after reassuring him she was fine and she just needed space. Al knew that was a lie but he didn’t push, just nodded and respected her need for time alone to think. He’d check on her in a bit. 

Al’s phone rang and he sighed as he reached over to turn it off. It had been going off for hours and Al knew his leaving suddenly definitely raised some concerns but he knew he wouldn’t be able to find the words to talk about what had happened yet. 

Michelle got back home two hours later. Al hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch until he heard the front door open and he turned plastering on a fake smile as Michelle entered the apartment. 

“Hey”. Michelle greeted her eyes softening as she got a look at Al before she looked around. 

“Lexi’s in her room. She’s not feeling well right now”. Al replied quietly knowing that’s who Michelle was looking for. Michelle just nodded as she sat next to Al. 

“I’m sorry for your loss”. Michelle said and Al didn’t know what he expected her to say but it wasn’t that. 

Al nodded anyway. He appreciated the words he just didn’t expect them to be aimed at him. Was this his loss? He was the one who divorced Meredith. Maybe if he hadn’t, if Al had stayed around maybe Meredith would still be alive. He didn’t have the right to receive condolences. 

Al lost Meredith long before today. 

That night, Al finally decided to call somebody. He needed to tell somebody what had happened. Needed to burden somebody with his feelings before Al did something he’d regret. Al decided to call Trudy hoping she wouldn’t mind him complaining. He sat back as the phone rang for a minute before Trudy picked up. 

“Alvin? What the hell has been going on?! Trudy demanded as soon as the call connected and Al sighed as he leaned back against his couch and closed his eyes. 

“Meredith’s dead. Her and Lexi got into a car accident, rammed by a drunk driver. Lexi’s okay, thankfully just minor injuries but Meredith died. In Lexi’s arms”. Al’s voice was almost monotone as he filled Trudy in on the day's events. 

The line was silent for several minutes. Trudy was obviously rightfully shocked. Al had kind of dumped everything on her. 

“God, Al I- I’m sorry for your loss”. Trudy finally said and despite Al knowing she meant well, he couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. 

“Is it really my loss? Lexi experienced a loss, she lost her mother at only eighteen but I lost Meredith a long time ago”. Al responded and he heard Trudy sigh. 

“Alvin, listen to me carefully. You're allowed to grieve. It doesn’t matter if you and Meredith were divorced. She was still a part of your life for a long time and you're allowed to have feelings because she’s dead”. Damn, Trudy clocked him quickly. 

Al wanted to reply, wanted to argue or tell Trudy how Meredith had said his name as she died, but all he could do was sob. It was quiet, Al didn’t want to wake his kids but Trudy could still hear him. 

“It’s okay. I’m here”. Trudy reassured through the phone. And even though she wasn’t physically there, Al felt just as comforted. 

[scarletsaphire]

Ill Prepared (Dannymay Day 3: Blizzard)

Jack and Maddie drag Danny on a ghost hunting trip in the Rocky Mountains. They are very prepared to hunt this ghost. They are not at all prepared for the blizzard they get caught in.

“Oh, Dann-o!” Jack Fenton’s voice echoed through Fentonworks, loud and booming. It woke Danny with a start, tumbling off of his bed and onto the floor in a pile of blankets. He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. He should have expected something like this; it was, after all, December 21st, and life (or half-life, in his case) was going well. The winter truce had started a few days ago, and winter break started just the day prior. Of course something had to go wrong. It wouldn’t be a Fenton Christmas without some disaster.

His dad showed up in his doorway, large frame blocking all of the light from the hallway. “Are you ready for an adventure, Danny boy?” Danny looked at the alarm clock on his bed side table and groaned. 6:07 AM.

“Couldn’t it wait until the sun comes up?” he groaned, pulling himself up from the floor.

Jack threw a bulky pile of fabric at Danny. “Nope! We’ve got the get the GAV moving if we want to get to the mountains by tomorrow! Your mother’s already got most of your stuff packed, just make sure that your coat fits and we’ll be good to go! Otherwise we’ll need to bring some anti-ecto fabric so we can get you one at the supply station.”

Danny held up the pile of fabric. It was a coat. A very heavy winter coat. Danny scowled at it. He didn’t particularly like coats, though he would wear lighter ones during winter if only to keep up appearances. He was, after all, and ice core ghost. Nothing was colder than his soul. (He would have to remember that one, Sam would like it.) “Where are we even going? It isn’t anywhere cold enough to warrant this.” He held the coat away from him with disdain.

“I told you at breakfast on Monday, we’re going to find a yeti! In the Rocky Mountains!” Jack beamed at Danny. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, son! This’ll be a wonderful Christmas trip!”

Danny had not eaten breakfast on Monday. He had been sleeping over Tucker’s house, partially to play the new expansion of Doom, mostly because his parents had been working on a new anti-ghost something or other, and Danny had not wanted to be anywhere near when they got it working. “I was at Tucker’s on Monday, this is the first I’m hearing of it.”

Jack looked confused, before shrugging and grinning widely at Danny. “Oh well, then surprise! We’re going to the Rocky Mountains to hunt the yeti! Now try on your new coat so we can get this show on the road!”

“Can’t I stay here?” Danny complained. “It’s not like it would be the first time.”

“We aren’t going to leave you here all alone!”

“I won’t be all alone, I’ll have-” Danny paused. He was going to say that he’d be with Jazz, but she had taken the opportunity to spend winter break at a two week long psych program at a college a few hours away. She had apologized for her absence, but it was a great opportunity. Still, it meant that Danny was out of an excuse. Grumbling, Danny pulled on the coat the rest of the way. God it was warm.

“Come now Danno, it’ll be fun! A parent son bonding experience!” Jack slapped Danny on the back, hard. “The coat fits great! Get your shoes and get into the car. We’ve got a ghost to catch!” — The drive was thrilling. Not because it was exciting, but because Maddie had let Jack drive as soon as they were out of Amity Park. If Danny hadn’t already been half dead, he was fairly certain he would’ve died from a heart attack. Luckily (or unluckily, he supposed) he was, so his father’s driving couldn’t kill him. How it didn’t kill anyone else on the 12 hour drive was a miracle in and of itself.

Whenever Danny wasn’t gripping onto the seat for his half-life or blocking out all sound with headphones, he listened to his mother and father talk about their hopes for this trip. They had heard of a yeti in the Rocky Mountains recently, and were certain that it was a ghost, biding its time to attack and drag unsuspecting tourists or climbers up to its peak to…his parents never really got to why they yeti would choose to do something like that. They rarely made it to that point when it came to ghosts, simply assuming that the ghost would because it was a ghost, and that it didn’t need another reason. Even if the yeti was a ghost, and not just some ambitious bear or faulty reports, Danny knew it wouldn’t attack without being provoked. He had met many yetis; they were friendly, if a bit scary to look at. He couldn’t exactly tell his parents that, so he settled in for the long haul.

At least he was being dragged away during the Winter Truce. The only ghosts that would break the truce would be non sapient ghosts, and possibly Vlad, but with both Danny and Maddie in another state across the country, it wasn’t likely that Vlad would try much of anything. (He had texted Sam and Tucker that, if either of them suspected that Vlad was up to no good, to leave a collection of dirty socks and gym shorts on Vlad’s Amity Park property. They would have done that anyway, but it felt nice to be part of the planning at least a little bit.)

When the GAV finally arrived at the place they would be staying, Danny was green in the face and his stomach churned. He thought he had gotten used to his dad’s driving over the years, but it wasn’t often that they went on long road trips with him driving. Even Danny’s stomach couldn’t put up with it for that long.

Unfortunately for Danny, the place they were staying was not a hotel, or a house, or even a cabin where he could empty his stomach in the privacy of a bathroom. It was a camp site, little more than a place with tree roots numbering in the single digits and a circle of ashes in the center that was designated as a fire pit. They were just on the base of the Rocky Mountains, which towered high just to the west of them. It was a pleasant view, and the cold air felt good on his skin after being trapped in the GAV for so long.

His mother started setting up the tent, a flimsy looking thing barely big enough to fit all three of them, and his dad started setting up the ghost detecting perimeter. Danny grumbled under his breath as he started to drag their luggage out of the trunk. The stuff his mother had packed was, he noted, not very suitable for a “camping” environment, let alone one this late into the year. It seemed like she had focused almost entirely on the ghost hunting part of the trip, and completely neglected the other aspects of survival that were much more likely to come into play. He had expected that; he hadn’t spent his lifetime and half-lifetime around them to expect them to be practical, especially where ghosts were involved. This did mean that Danny couldn’t actually unload most of the trunk without getting zapped, cut, detected, or setting off some kind of alarm or another.

Danny grabbed what he could out of the trunk, receiving a slight zap from a pile of metal he didn’t quite recognized, and dragged it over to where his mother was hammering a spike into the ground with far more force than was strictly necessary. “I got what I could carry, but I don’t want to grab any of the ghost hunting stuff that’s in there. You know how it acts around me,” Danny laughed nervously. He knew his parents assumed that their devices malfunctioned because of ecton contamination, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t super nervous whenever he had to bring it up. Everytime he did it, he worried that this would be the time that they would figure out that that was probably a very dumb excuse.

This was not that time. “Oh thank you sweetie, just set it all down right there, and your father will grab the ghost hunting gear once he’s done setting up the defenses. Would you mind helping me with that other spike?” His mother did not look up from her continuous whaling on the poor metal spike. The ground was hard because of the cold, but Danny was fairly certain that she didn’t need to hit it that hard. Was it bending?

Danny did as he was told, setting the pile of bags and his fathers suitcase. A single day trip of clothes for him almost always required a suitcase if he decided to actually bring clothes. Most of the time he stuck with his hazmat suit, but it was too cold for it out here. Both his parents were wearing heavy jackets lined with anti-ghost material. Over their jumpsuits of course; it would take more than the cold to pry those things off of them.

Danny grabbed a spike and started to hit it into his ground. He didn’t use as much force as Maddie did; he didn’t need to. The ground, even more frozen beneath his feet, molded easily to his will, allow him to delicately hammer the spike into place and locking it with some not-quite natural ice. He glanced up; his display of powers wasn’t flashy by any means, but that didn’t mean that any ghost detecting gear his father had already set up wouldn’t catch him. His father was tangled in a mess of wires, strung up like a Christmas tree. Whatever he was setting up was giving him a lot more trouble than it was giving Danny, at least right now.

“Well done sweetie!” Maddie said, looking at him with a beaming smile. Her spike had successfully gotten into the ground, though it looked like it might end up a ghost itself with how beat up it was. “But aren’t you cold? You should go put on your jacket, its freezing out here.” Danny looked down in surprise at his uncovered arms. He had thrown on a t-shirt and jeans in his rush to get ready that morning, and hadn’t even realized that he had forgotten his jacket in the car. The air around him didn’t feel cold at all. If anything, it was comfortable. Crisp.

“Oops.” Danny gave her a lopsided smile and ran to the GAV, throwing open the backdoor and grabbing the jacket. He didn’t want to put it on. It was nice out, even if he could see his breath puffing in front of him every couple of seconds, and the jacket was suffocating and constraining. He didn’t have much of a choice though, so he shrugged it on, leaving the zipper only done up halfway.

Maddie came up behind him. “See, isn’t that better?” A series of ghost related curses echoed across the campsite. “I’m going to go help untangle your father. Would you be willing to set up the rest of the tent?” Danny nodded, and his mother went off.

— Outside of a close call where one of the weapons in the GAV started to chase Danny around the campsite (his mother had intercepted it with one solid hit from the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick. “I hate to destroy something so useful, but its not much use if its chasing after our junior ghost hunter!” she had said.) It was, overall, almost a nice time. He had had significantly worse days in December before. He would prefer to be hanging out at Tucker’s, or with Sam if her parents allowed him to join in on the Hanukkah celebrations, but he didn’t mind camping one bit.

And then his parents started prepping for the evening's ghost hunting activities, and any part of the trip he had been enjoying got zapped away. Just like he was getting zapped by the copious amount of tech they were placing on him. It wasn’t that it hurt per se, but it did make his skin tingle like static electricity, and he couldn’t say that it was pleasant. After his mom finished outfitting him with more ghost hunting gear than was necessary (and helping his dad strap a few more onto his back) they set off following a trail further into the mountains. It has been dark for about an hour, and the air was only getting colder, but that didn’t stop them from traipsing through the woods.

They were only traipsing around for an hour before it started to snow. It was a soft snowfall, barely coating the ground in white, but it was enough to have Maddie start to shiver under her coat. Jack, who had already yelled “Ghost!” at the top of his lungs and fired into various non-ghost locations, only got jumpier. “Dear,” Maddie said, saddling up to Jack. “I think we should make our way back to camp now. We can scout the area more in the morning, and set up a trap for the spook during the day.”

“That’s a brilliant idea Mads!” Jack said. “You’re always so smart!” They led the way back to camp, moving quickly over the path, flashlight leading the way. Danny trailed behind. He didn’t need to breathe, but he took deep breaths anyway. The cold was sharp in his nose, biting in his lungs, but it was nice. Soothing. He had realized, after visiting the Far Frozen the first couple times, that Amity Park was almost always warm, sometimes to the point of unbearably hot. He had gotten used to it, stuck through it, forced it to become just another nagging discomfort in the back of his mind. It wasn’t hard to do, when you were healing from broken bones and gaping wounds every other day. It didn’t mean that the delicious, frigid, clean air of the mountains didn’t make his very core hum in satisfaction. It almost made the trip worth it.

When they arrived back at the camp, Jack fell asleep almost instantly in his sleeping bag. Maddie, who was curled up next to him, took longer to fall asleep, but she drifted off in a couple of minutes. Danny took the opportunity to slip out of his sleeping bag, out of his coat, and out of the tent. He zipped the flap closed behind him, and sat on the ground amidst a shallow bank of snow. (It didn’t melt where he sat, he noticed absently. Why would it? It was almost a part of him, and he, a part of it.) The snow had begun to fall heavier by this point, the wind picking up, and ice started to form on the tips of Danny’s eyelashes. It felt wonderful. He couldn’t say how long he sat there, breathing in the bitter cold air, freezing his human lungs and his ghostly core. Long enough for his lips to turn blue and his hands to go numb.

Danny couldn’t say when, exactly, the winds picked up enough to make the branches of the trees whip into a frenzy. He couldn’t say when the snow began to turn to hail, pelting the ground with a force as if they were cannonballs, yet always bouncing off of him harmlessly. He couldn’t say when the snowstorm turned from beautiful to something deadly, from a natural occurrence to a force of nature. He could say when the spikes driven into the ground started to fail, and the flaps of the tent began to whip angrily, and he heard his mothers concerned yelling from inside the tent. (He shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the wind. He shouldn’t have been able to sit out here unharmed. He shouldn’t be a lot of things. It had never stopped him before.)

Danny ducked back into the tent to find his mother arguing with his father, both of them shivering in their sleeping bags, lips blue. She was yelling, saying that the ghost must have taken him, that he might be lost or worse in the woods. His dad was agreeing, but was stopping her from searching in the storm. “It’s too dangerous!” he said, yelling louder than he normally did over the sound of the wind, of the hail. “If you go out there you could die!”

When they noticed him, they ran over and hugged him, dragging him into the sleeping bag with them. “Oh sweetie pie you’re freezing! What were you doing out there? This storm is dangerous, and that’s without the ghost around!”

“I just had to take a leak,” Danny said numbly. It was dawning on him that the inside of this tent was not all that warmer than the world outside, even if the wind chill was taken away. The sleeping bag the three of them shared was warmer than the tent, yes, but he didn’t miss how his dad’s lips were tinged blue, how his mother shivered, how each of their breaths crystalized in the air around them. “Did you bring anything to warm the tent? Or to help us weather the storm?”

Jack and Maddie shared a look. “We didn’t expect a blizzard,” Maddie said. “But I’m sure it’ll pass, and we’ll all be just fine. We just have to stay here, where its warm.” Danny wasn’t surprised. His parents were only ever prepared when it came to ghosts, and this blizzard was far too natural. But all Danny could do is nod.

The minutes passed by slowly, and the storm didn’t show any signs of getting better. If anything, it only got worse. Danny noticed how his mothers speech started to slur, how she drew into herself and shook violently. How his father, even sitting in the tent like he was, seemed more disoriented than normal, both in mind and body. The reality of the situation dawned on him with his growing horror. If something didn’t change soon, his parents would not make it through the night. He could help. He knew how, knew that the ice and snow would listen to him, if only in a small area. He could save him. (It would cost him everything. He didn’t care; he had already thrown what remained of his life away when he started fighting ghosts. He wasn’t going to let this stop him now.)

“Do you have the controls for the ghost defenses you set up?” he asked, crawling over to his mother. She nodded. “I need you to turn it off, and I need you to trust me.”

“I cann’ do tha,” Maddie slurred, teeth chattering. “We’d be weloming a ghost in.”

“Please, mom,” Danny begged. “I just need you to turn it off, and stay still. Please.” He looked deep into his mom’s eyes, holding his breath. Time seemed to slow even further as she studied him, trying to figure out what he was planning. Finally she nodded. Her hands were too clumsy, too uncoordinated, to pull the remote out of her jacket pocket, but she managed to show Danny where it was. He fiddled with it for a moment, before shutting it off. Then, he walked into the storm and transformed.

His first order of business was a shelter. A proper shelter, one that would block the pelting hail and whipping winds. He made an igloo, small and compact to save as much heat as he could, but sturdy, surrounding the flimsy tent. It was made of ghost ice, and wouldn’t melt. Not easily, anyway.

His next order of business was much harder, as any loose branches that would burn proper, and not just smoke, were buried under ever growing mounds of snow. If he hadn’t been able to go intangible, he probably would never have found any. But he could, so he returned to the igloo with his arms full of tinder.

His parents were huddled next to each other, Jack openly sobbing into Maddie’s shoulder, blubbering something about Danny, though most of it was unintelligible. They both started when they saw him, reaching for ectoblasters strapped to their waists, but their hands were numb and shaky, their reaction time slowed from hypothermia. Danny transformed back to his human form before they could aim. “Listen,” he said quickly, dumping the pile of sticks just out the door of the tent. “You can be mad at me later. Scream, kick me out, try and kill me, dissect me, whatever. I know you want to. But if you don’t let me help you, just until this storm dies down, you’ll end up dead too, and I won’t let this happen. So please. Just don’t shoot me yet.” Danny watched as his parents stared at him, horror clear on their faces. He left the tent before they could say a word.

Back in ghost form, he lit most of the tinder he had gathered on fire; not ghostly fire, just regular good old fashioned fire. It’s light and warmth filled the area around the tent, filling the igloo. Danny got to work, pulling out the spikes they had pounded into the ground. They came out easily under his touch. The tent wouldn’t do them much good now; better to burn it for warmth. His parents emerged from the tent after he started to take it down. It wasn’t like they had much of a choice.

They huddled near the fire, color slowly starting to return to their skin, shaking starting to abide. They did not look at him. He did not look at them. He focused on keeping the fire burning, on keeping the ice and wind outside away, on not thinking about what they might do to him now or after they were safe, about the threats they had made and injuries they had given him time and time again, about how sleeping was already hard enough for him, and where would he stay now that they knew? They wouldn’t let a ghost stay in their home willingly; how much harder would it be to sleep when he was on the streets? Would they hunt down Sam and Tucker, if he tried to stay with them? Would they-

“Danny?” His mothers voice cut through his thoughts. “Are…are you really my Danny?”

“Yes.” He couldn’t stop the quiver in his voice.

“What happened?” This time, he couldn’t stop the tears.

[dot-cant-write]

A Different Chord - Sammy Lawrence x Reader (Part Eight)

I apologize. I know. I’m sorry, this chapter is Not Good but the next one is a little better. It’s already mostly written I just didn’t know how to write to get there.

“Wally?” You asked, peeking your head into the Art Department. You’d been searching for the janitor all afternoon after your talk with Sammy. It was nearly closing time and you still hadn’t seen him.

Finally, you made your way to Story. Lo and behold, Wally Franks was cleaning up in the middle of the room. Two employees- both around your age -walked past you and down the hall. You heard them discussing something about ink and a machine in hushed voices. “Keep asking questions, Buddy,” the girl with cat-eye glasses told the other.

You moved forward into Storyboarding. “Wally, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. The weirdest thing happened-“

Wally immediately perked up. “Oh yeah? Spill the beans, (Y/N).”

You explained what happened in Sammy’s office. Wally let out a low whistle.

“Did ya consider that he likes you? What have I been sayin’ this whole time?”

“Wally! This isn’t something he does. He’s been giving me lessons for almost a year now, and I have never seen him act this way.”

Wally tapped his chin thoughtfully. He the shrugged. “Dunno, but we should find out.”

You rolled your eyes. “Duh, Wally, that’s what I was getting at.”

Your best friend grinned innocently. “Of course it was, heh. So… Go find him an ask what’s going on!”

“You just want me to walk up and ask? After what happened?”

“Yeah?”

“…Fine. But I’m waiting until Monday.”

Wally shrugged. “Fair enough I guess.”

You gave Wally a strained smile, but had a dreadful feeling that your talk with Sammy wasn’t going to go very well.

————————————————————————

Sammy’s POV:

Sammy Lawrence wasn’t feeling very good. It might’ve been the ink he drank, but, y’know, it happens.

But he was feeling so sick, he had to cancel the last recording session of the afternoon.

Now, he was locked in his sanctuary- every artist needs one, after all. But right now, he wasn’t using it to get work done in some peace and quiet. Instead, he was hoping that no one could hear the sounds of him retching through the walls.

His wastebasket hugged close to his chest, the composer puked again. Black ink.

Sammy wiped his mouth with his sleeve, feeling nauseous. But a longing feeling inside him grew. Maybe- maybe he just needed more. Maybe then he’d feel better.

He hastily reached for the ink well sitting on his desk, praying to anyone that would listen that this would make him feel better.

…

It didn’t. His body was rejecting the toxic substance, and yet something kept making him drink the ink. It wasn’t a good weekend for him.

On Monday morning, he looked awful and felt worse. He got to Joey Drew Studios early, hoping he could get some sleep. He did not.

[is-on-its-way]

Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more - 5 And what happened then...?

Post-Episode: s06e06 How the Ghosts Stole Christmas

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Part of the Scully is a human Series

———

Monday December 28th 1998

Scully walked into the bullpen Monday her chin up and looking oddly at Mulder seated at his desk. 

“Hey Scully” he said when she stopped at his desk. Hearing no answer he looked up and then raised his brows at her in question. “Is everything okay?”

Scully looked at him incredulous. “You had lunch with my mom?” A head from the desk next door turned in their direction. 

Mulder looked in that direction and turned his chair towards her and away from them.

He had the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Yesterday? I had tea with your mom” he answered carefully.

“Sorry I just didn’t know you two were that close.” 

“We aren’t. I mean we, in the past… when you were taken, she and I, she’d invite me for lunch and I’d go over. I... I think she knew it was the only time I ate really. And it reminded me of you.” He swallowed, looking straight ahead at her stomach, speaking with an air of forcing himself despite all his natural impulses screaming not to. “But she just wanted to apologize, for Christmas. I told her she didn’t have to.” He looked up at her.

Scully swallowed and bit her lip. Nodding in understanding. There was nothing more to say. 

She went to her desk and sat down.

“What do you two talk about?” She said to his back

He swivelled around to her.

“Oh you know. Mostly she fills me in on her grandchildren and her sisters grandkids and…” he reddened “church gossip.”

Scully looked at him bemused and incredulous “Church gossip?”

“Say what you will about organized religion Scully, but church gossip is better than any network television.”

She couldn’t help herself, she broke into a big smile and snorted.

“And what do you talk to her about?”

“Well, I like to listen to her mostly, she’s asked me about my childhood a bit, and she likes to hear about baseball.”

Scully raised her eyebrows. Her mother had never liked a sport of any kind “Baseball?” she said incredulous

“Oh yeah, you know, which player cheated on his wife with some other players girlfriend, stuff like that.”

"So you two... gossip together..." she trailed off she bit her lip to hide a smile.

Mulder shrugged

“Do you… talk about me?”

He met her eyes “We have…we… she'd tell me things she missed about you, she asked me to help her pick up your gravestone, things like that.” 

Scully’s lips parted in surprise “Oh” her face looked like she was rearranging her mother and Mulder into new places in her mind. She picked up a file he'd left for her and opened it. 

“What's this…” she opened it.

Im off to investigate that case right now, want to come along?” He held up an evidence photo.

“Mulder, is that a taped together crime scene photo you fished out of a certain basement garbage can?”

“Not the can, no… I have an in with janitorial.”

Scully rolled her eyes. “I think I'll stay here and do the work we’re expected to be doing so we don’t get fired.” She said thoroughly exasperated

She turned on her computer as he got up and took the file from her.

“Later Scully, I'll call you if I find anything.”

"Mulder will you at least come in later so we can interview Mr. Donovan? He's a..." She trailed off as he offered a raised hand in acknowledgment as he left. She shook her head and pursed her lips muttering "Typical" as he made his way out the door.

End.