#I mean technically I’m 31 in like two and a half weeks so that’s even more growth

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 2 || 1252 Words || Read on Ao3 —

“Come on, Pete, just a few more.”

James is splayed on the floor of the gym next to the blonde man, watching and counting encouragingly as his friend sits up once, twice, three times in an effort to finish this cycle of reps. It was their third day this week coming to the gym—ever since Peter’s girlfriend had dumped him the prior week, the man was determined to throw himself into a total transformation, a “revenge body” if you will. (And James, being the sympathetic and athletic friend that he was, had volunteered to help. Besides, it was nice to spend some time with Pete, just the two of them.)

As Peter falls back against the unique texture of the gym floor, James sits up and pats his knee in triumph. “You did it, mate! One whole week in the books. That’s something to be proud of.”

“I feel like I’m going to die.”

“That goes away with time.”

“That’s what you said about Paula, too.”

James sighs, running a hand through his sweaty curls. Being the optimist he is, he and their other friends had plied Peter with the traditional post-breakup platitudes (that they did fully mean): It’s her loss, mate; you’ll forget all about her in time; we know you thought she was the one but really how much did you know about her? Peter and Paula had been together for half a year, and while she was a lovely girl (before breaking his friend’s heart) James hadn’t really gotten it. She had never meshed with their group—which, James supposes, isn’t a mandatory requirement for a romantic partner—but it seemed getting along with your boyfriend’s friends would be some sort of minimum requirement before one finds themself ‘in love’.

In short, he had never assumed Pete and Paula would go the distance. Just like James and Arya hadn’t, or Remus and Alfred. Sirius hadn’t brought any partners around the group, but seemed to share in James’ theory all the same.

“And I mean it,” James replies, standing and offering a hand to Peter, pulling him up off the floor. “It’ll hurt worse right at the start, but your muscles will get used to it.” He turns and leads the way to the treadmills for their cooldown—something quick and easy that Pete can take at his own pace. With a heavy sigh, Peter starts at a brisk walk at the machine next to him, and James presses the buttons on his until he’s at a light jog.

Running, even stationarily, gives James a time to just retreat into his own mind. His eyes glance up to the television sets that are affixed to the ceiling in front of the row of cardio machines, flicking in between news, sports, reruns, and more news. A flash of something from his left catches his attention and he finds his attention drawn to a woman rounding the corner of the front desk, beautiful red waves pulled atop her head and cascading down, bouncing as she walks through the machines. He finds his eyes transfixed, feeling unusually breathless so early in his run as he struggles to refocus his attention to anything other than the woman—his feet, the news, the bloody rerun of Friends he’d seen a dozen times.

He almost succeeds, until someone in a matching polo shirt walks by her and says something that causes her to throw her head back in utter delight, her laughter wafting over to where he is trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, and he misses.

Well, he doesn’t technically miss. His foot just steps halfway off the belt of the treadmill, meaning in a split second he’s crashing to the ground and causing a scene, Peter gaping above him. James lies there for a few seconds—in a bit of a daze and ego more bruised than any actual physical part of him—when red hair and the most vibrant green eyes he’s even seen in his life come into view next to Peter, looking down at him with a mix of concern and held back amusement.

“Are you alright?”

Her voice, wry and definitely laced with unshed laughter, kicks him out of his daze and he scrambles up. “Fine. Just better learn to walk in a straight line, I suppose.”

“Yes, they’ve gotten rid of all the twists and turns in the newest model,” she agrees sagely, nodding her head towards his still-running machine. She walks between it and Peter’s machine, hitting the stop button and motioning at his elbow. “Looks like you scraped yourself up pretty nicely. If you follow me, I can show you where we keep all the first aid.”

James has to blink a few times before realizing that no this was not a dream and yes she was looking at him expectantly to answer. Clearing his throat he casts a glance at Peter’s machine, and—seeing that he still has seven minutes—claps his shoulder in encouragement with a hasty mumble about being right back and trails after the red-haired woman.

In less than a minute they’re entering a small room marked Employees Only next to the front desk and she gestures for him to sit down.

“You know, I’ve seen you in here before,” she says, shuffling through some supplies on the eye-level shelf next to her. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a klutz.”

She’s seen him here before. She’s noticed him before. James feels his brain short-circuit at her words, remembering to wipe any sort of dumb, awe-struck expression from his face just as she turns around with a small package of antiseptic wipes and hands it to him.

“I’m usually not,” he confesses, shooting her what he hopes is a suave smile as he takes a wipe and cleans the scrapes on his elbow. Looking up and meeting her eyes, his brows raise. “Got distracted by someone.” 

To his delight, a small flush colors her cheeks, and she doesn’t immediately look away. Instead, she seems to contemplate something before reaching for a pen and a spiral of paper and writing something down. 

“You know, it’s silly,” she says, still scribbling, “but after an injury the gym insists those patrons have someone supervise them on the machines.”

“Oh, do they?” James asks with a smile.

She makes a noise of assent, ripping the paper from its binding and hands it over to him. “Unfortunately, yeah. A bit overkill if you ask me, but what can you do?” Her eyes flicker from his to the paper in his hand. “I’ve written my schedule down there for convenience—you know, as someone familiar with the incident. Could save you some time when you come in, having to explain it and all.”

James nods solemnly, fighting back the grin that threatens to split wide his face. Instead, his brow knits in a show of confusion as he points to the top of the paper. “And this number here?”

“Oh, well, that’s my mobile number.”

“Ah yes, I see that now.”

“For any, you know, outdoor running supervision you may require. When a treadmill doesn’t really do the trick.” Her brow unfurrows, all fake-seriousness wiping away as she shrugs, leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed. “Or if you fancy a drink.”He loses the fight against the grin, his lips pulling up into a wide smile as his eyes glance down at the paper in his hands and trace over the name Lily that’s been written above the phone number.

#jilytober2023 #jily #james potter #lily evans #jple #31 prompts #it's (always) you

[goldenraeofsun]

Day 23: Sleepless Nights

Dean 11:31 Hey sorry to text so soon But did you pick up an ID with my face on it after dinner?

Cas 11:39 No, but the restaurant called me a half hour ago. They found it while closing up, and they had my number on file from when I made the reservation.

Dean 11:42 Thank god

Cas 11:42 My apologies; I was going to leave you a message in the morning, as you mentioned needing to get up early. Also, what do you mean by “so soon”?

Dean 11:44 Dude Its been two hours since our date How soon do you consider too soon?

Cas 11:45 I’ve never given it much thought.

Dean 11:45 Seriously?

Cas 11:48 I text when it feels right. I don’t have a numerically-based system.

Dean 11:50 That’s insane.

Cas 11:51 Well, Dean, what’s your system, then?

Dean 11:52 24 hours minimum 1 week max unless they’re batshit Usually averages out to 3 days

Cas 11:57 What do you mean “batshit”?

Dean 11:57 You know Psychos Nut jobs One sandwich short of a picnic Dudes who say their spirit animal is Elon Musk

Cas 11:58 That’s an impressive array of synonyms, but it doesn’t actually give me much information.

Dean 11:58 Seriously??? Ok then Like, the guy who tried to pressure me into a threesome with his ex cause I’m bi Or the lady who practically drank a whole bottle of wine by herself and yelled at the waiter because he didn’t refill our bread basket

Cas 11:58 I see what you mean.

Dean 11:59 OR that guy who mentioned he was casually into cannibalism??? Who the hell drops that on a first date. Glenn Close wannabes, that’s who

Cas 12:00 I’m astounded you had that many bad first dates.

Dean 12:01 Those are only from this year!

Cas 12:01 That sounds horrendous.

Dean 12:02 Heh. Cannibal guy gave good head, so there’s that. Dude knew his way around some man meat, if you know what I mean

Cas 12:02 Unfortunately, I do. Excuse me while I wait a full week to text you ever again.

Dean 12:03 C’mon, I didn’t even tell you about my worst first date!

Dean 12:14 Cas?

Cas 12:18 Go on.

Dean 12:18 Thank fuck, I thought I actually scared you off

Cas 12:18 Despite appearances, I don’t scare easily.

Dean 12:19 For a nerdy dude in a trench coat, you’re made of pretty stern stuff, I’ll give you that

Cas 12:21 Thank you?

Dean 12:26 Don’t mention it ANYWAY worst first date in the history of first dates: The setting: Los Angeles, California, August 2017 Our hero, the dashingly handsome PA, Dean Winchester, has a date with a slightly less-attractive but still stunning guest star from episode 24 of Dr. Sexy, MD who will die three episodes later from a cerebrovascular infection of her spinal cord.

Cas 12:27 Technically, doctors should only use “Dr” or “MD”, not both. And that diagnosis makes absolutely no sense.

Dean 12:28 Shhh DSM had to let go their medical expert due to budget cuts in the 15th season

Cas 12:28 I cannot believe the abbreviation for that show is DSM.

Dean 12:28 Huh?

Cas 12:31 In the medical community, whenever you hear DSM, they’re almost always referring to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

Dean 12:34 Hahahahaha Maybe I should buy a copy for the set Then they’ll get SOMETHING right

Cas 12:34 I hardly ever call any case hopeless, but in this case, I might make an exception.

Dean 12:36 Yeah that checks out But nobody watches DSM for the medicine The other stuffs the compelling bits

Cas 12:37 They'd better not be. It's a gross misrepresentation of the medical system. Firstly, their sterile fields leave much to be desired. I had to pause in the middle of the intubation scene.

Dean 12:42 Hold on You actually watched DSM??

Cas 12:44 Of course. You mentioned you worked on the show when we met. I'd be a poor date if I hadn't watched at least an episode. 

Dean 12:44 Oh my god you did homework for our date tonight??? You're such a nerd

Cas 12:45 Dr. Nerd, MD, actually.

Dean 12:46 Ha! You're still Dr Sexy to me

Dean 12:46 Shit that was the stupidest thing I've ever sent. Forget I wrote that. 

Cas 12:47 I think it's flattering :D

Dean 12:48 Thank fuck

Cas 12:52 It wasn't only to prepare for our date. You obviously care a lot about the show, so if I couldn't stand it, I figured it would be a good indicator of our compatibility. 

Dean 12:55 Holy shit. I never thought about it like that I used to tell people it was a guilty pleasure

Cas 12:56 What changed?

Dean 12:57 I got the job on set and everyone there doesn’t treat it like a dirty little secret Sure they know its stupid and shit, but it’s fun, stupid shit

Cas 1:00 I’m glad you like your job.

Dean 1:00 You don’t?

Cas 1:11 I like the mission of my job. But some days the death, pain, and petty workplace grievances make me question my choice. I chose emergency medicine because I was under the impression it required fewer people skills. I thought I would see more acute cases of broken bones, gunshots, burns, etc. But these days, half of my patients use ER doctors as their primary physicians because they can’t afford regular doctor visits for their chronic conditions. I even have a few “regulars”, which I never anticipated having.

Dean 1:12 Damn That sounds brutal

Cas 1:13 Not to mention my hundred thousand dollars of student loan debt.

Dean 1:13 Jesus Sammy’s in the same boat between undergrad and law school

Cas 1:14 But not you?

Dean 1:20 I never went to college

Cas 1:20 Good.

Dean 1:23 What?

Cas 1:25 It seems you didn’t waste your money or time, as you’re in a profession that makes you happy and supports a lifestyle you’re making work.

Dean 1:25 I guess so. I just never figured you’d be all aboard the high school drop out train

Cas 1:31 Usually no, not unless the person has a clear path ahead of what they would like to do instead. My brother transferred from a prestigious liberal arts college to a trade school for plumbers, and he has had no greater joy explaining to my uptight parents the latest thing he pulled out from a client’s septic tank.

Dean 1:32 He sounds like a riot

Cas 1:33

He also makes a killing. Apparently an equal number of people need doctors as plumbers, to my parents’ great chagrin.

Dean 1:33 I like him already

Cas 1:35 You’ll like him until he short sheets your bed and locks you in the wine cellar during dessert so he gets the whole Black Forest gateau to himself.

Dean 1:36 That’s HILARIOUS

Cas 1:38 I almost wet myself, Dean.

Dean 1:38 And you think that makes it less funny???

Cas 1:43 I should have known older brothers would take each others’ side.

Dean 1:44 Damn right It’s in the big brother handbook

Cas 1:49 Did you terrorize Sam too?

Dean 1:52 No And whatever he tells you about itching powder, a farting donkey, and superglue is totally a lie

Cas 1:53 Never mind. I don’t even want to know.

Dean 1:58 Yeah, nobody came out the winner that time Sammy always gave as good as he got though But you seem like the kind of goody two shoes who wouldn’t get your big brother back like he deserved

Cas 2:03 I was worse as a child. It didn’t help that Gabe had an almost preternatural ability to anticipate retaliation. My choices of pranks were never particularly inventive, so he saw them coming from a mile away.

Dean 2:04 So Gabe is a plumber with a sweet tooth?

Cas 2:05 Yes?

Dean 2:06 You got any other ammo on him?

Cas 2:07 He also has an extensive porn collection of vintage Casa Erotica VHS and goes to some annual pornography convention in Vegas. My parents didn’t cut him off for dropping out of college because they were well aware of his alternative and, in their mind, Gabe chose the lesser of two evils.

Dean 2:11 Holy shit, Cas That’s what you LEAD with

Cas 2:12 Excuse me?

Dean 2:19 Next time you’re at his place, you’re gonna swap out half those VHS for Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood or Nut Cracker or a Nova documentary Just total boner-killers. He won’t see it coming. Heh Literally

Cas 2:20 Truly?

Dean 2:22 I don’t see why he would

Cas 2:23 Thank you. I might actually take your suggestion.

Dean 2:25 Do it! And then tell me how it goes. Sammy’s all the way in Seattle, so we haven’t had a real prank war in too long.

Cas 2:27 Aren’t you a little old for such childish behavior?

Dean 2:30 You’re older than I am!

Cas 2:31 I’m making up for lost time.

Dean 2:32 You’re unbelievable. Alright, Marcia, if you want to play it that way See if I help you when Gabe hides your stethoscope or dyes your white coat pink in retaliation

Cas 2:35 … he dyed it bright yellow, actually.

Dean 2:36 HAHAHAHAH

Cas 2:37 I looked like a YIELD sign.

Dean: 2:39 Please tell me you have pictures

Cas 2:43 I do, actually. IMG_215

Dean 2:44 What’s with the black stripes?

Cas 2:45 I added the stripes for Halloween last year. I was a bumblebee.

Dean 2:46 Damn Not even a sexy bumblebee?

Cas 2:49 Ah, but you can’t see what’s under my doctor’s coat.

Dean 2:50 An even smaller bumblebee costume?

Cas 2:52 No…

Dean 2:53 Don’t do this to me Lingerie?

Cas 2:55 I wore SCRUBS, Dean, because I am a medical professional.

Dean 2:58 You’re such an ass What are you doing this year?

Cas 2:58 I was thinking of wearing my usual coat and scrubs.

Dean 3:01 Booooo

Cas 3:02 What are you going as, then?

Dean 3:05 A cowboy! Tenth year in a row, baby. If it ain’t broke, yadda yadda yadda

Cas 3:06 But, having recently seen a new medical show, I was thinking of adding cowboy boots to my standard getup.

Dean 3:08 No way

Cas 3:08 Do you by chance have a spare pair I could borrow for Halloween?

Dean 3:10 Hell yes I do! But Shit, I have a 5am call time tomorrow Today? Fuck. I think I have to cut his convo short

Cas 3:11 Oh dear My apologies for keeping you so late! :o

Dean 3:14 Not your fault at all dude

Cas 3:15 I never even heard the story of your worst first date!

Dean 3:18 How about I tell you over dinner Friday? 7PM work with you? You chose the place last time, so I’ll pick this one

Cas 3:18 It’s a date :D

#suptober22 #destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #text fic #doctor Castiel #PA dean #slice of life #fluff #rae writes fic

[sortasirius]

What the Fuck Happened to the SPN Finale?

Okay so here it is, my Charlie Kelly style manifesto.

Before I get into it, I recognize that I will look like this to many of you, and that’s okay, I understand:

Secondly, your personal Takes about the writers don’t interest me, I don’t need to hear them. This, as I’ll explain, is going to remain a writer positive blog, and that’s the end of it.

Third, and most importantly: some of what I’m going to talk about is fact, and some is highly educated speculation. I will notate what is speculation, just so there’s no confusion or hot takes in my inbox that I’m a conspiracy theorist or stirring shit up for no reason.

A list of what I’ll be discussing

The episode in regards to the rest of the season

The episode issues: length, editing

Scene placement and speculation of scenes cut

The scrubbing of Jack, Cas, Eileen

Network involvement and general timeline of when things were cut

Misha: theories on where he was, official company line, why we can’t expect to hear anything directly

The silence of the cast post episode (in Misha’s case, mid episode) and what this might mean

Jensen speaking with Kripke about the ending: why it doesn’t mean what you might think (also why kripke remained positive on the ending)

Walker, and why this episode had a major shift

Why the network would do this or get involved

Why the writers of the show simply aren’t the bad guys here, and what I “want” out of this post, since I know it’ll get asked

This is very long and under a cut, but I hope you’ll give it a read.

The Episode In Regards to the Rest of the Season

So, I’ve discussed this already here, but it’s the most obvious thing to me, and that’s the way this episode simply doesn’t fit with the rest of the season.

These people in this room have, truly, been nothing but consistent when it comes to their arcs, especially this season, and the marked dropoff in quality for the finale episode is just too sus to discount to me.  Dabb’s whole focus has been character-based.  In his seasons, we’ve moved far away from MOTW and bro-codependency, the found family taking it’s place.  Does it really sit right to anyone that that was all thrown away in literally the last episode of the entire show?

This is speculation on my part, but as a writer myself, there is no way I would be happy or willing to stamp my name on something that I didn’t think would, at the very least, wrap up the season+ character arcs that I and my team had been crafting.

And before anyone comes in here saying, “well GOT did that!”  Bruh.  The writing was on the wall for GOT long before the final episode.  You could tell that the showrunners just wanted to be done (not only from the plot, but from the fact that they lobbied for a shorter season).  Miss me with that, it doesn’t apply here.  Andrew has, besides Singer and J2, been with the show longer than anyone.  He cares, he is meticulous and detailed, and this ending feels worse than anything Bucklemming has ever written, let alone Dabb.

Additionally, I’ve seen a lot of people say that Dabb was never behind Destiel, that it was all Bobo and Meredith and no one else.  That is reductive to the point of insult of the work Dabb has done to get this greenlit.  This man did not write the s13 Dean grief arc to be slandered like this.  That being said, YES, Bobo and Meredith were the leads on the DeanCas arc this season, but ANDREW IS THE SHOWRUNNER, TO GET EVEN THE CONFESSION APPROVED BY THE NETWORK HE WOULD HAVE TO HAVE THEIR BACKS.  AND HE DID.

Finale Issues

So, now that we’ve gotten the fact that this episode doesn’t hit on any of the major themes the show was barrelling towards all season, let’s discuss the fact that the episode is just...weird.

Not only is it shorter than any other episode (I think with the intro and the credits/crew thing at the end, it was around 38 mins), but it was also...idk, 90% filler?

One of the lovely humans in the POLOL server did the legwork here, and broke it down:

This is weird, y’all.  Most series finales are LONGER than normal (Lost, SOA, Longmire are the ones I can think of off the top of my head), and for the final episode to be this?  I saw more than one person point out that we only really needed 19 episodes, what was the point of 20?  AND THAT’S EXACTLY IT?  WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS FINAL EPISODE IF THIS WAS ALL WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GET?

It simply doesn’t make any sense, the first half of the episode was rushed, a final monster hunt gone wrong, but in the second half?  Nothing really happened?  Sam lived his entire life and Dean just drove around.  It doesn’t make sense to have all the emotional arcs left unaddressed in an episode that definitely needed some kind of spark.

Here’s the speculation I have: the episode seemingly went through a lot of changes between the initial inception of the final season and when we actually got it, but I think it would have been passable (as in, we wouldn’t be sitting here asking each other why each arc feels incomplete) until the editing room got ahold of it.  The only think that makes this episode make sense is network fuckery.  Truly, that is the only thing.  It explains the weird, cuts, the rushed pacing of the first half followed by nothing in the second half, the double montages of “Wayward Son” back to back, and Dean just...driving around for the last half of the episode.

Scene Placement and Speculation of Scenes Cut

Before I get into this section, the info of the shots in the episode I have come from a source that @occamshipper​ got a week or so before the finale.  She’s talked about this here.

So here’s what Min was given:

1-5: 1 INT MEN OF LETTERS – DEAN’S ROOM Dean is greeted by Miracle

6-10: 6 INT MEN OF LETTERS – HALLWAY/SAM’S ROOM Sam has his routine

D1 1 11-15: 15 EXT FARM HOUSE Establishing

N1 1/8 16-20: 19 Dad’s journal, marker, drawing of masked man in journal.

21-25: 23 INT IMPALA – PMP Driver picks the music

N2 1 3/8 1,2 26-30: 28pt2 INT BARN: A face from the past

28pt3 Sam and Dean say goodbye

28pt4 Shot early for technical reasons, presumably the overhead shot

N2 31-45: 41 INT MEN OF LETTERS – SAM’S ROOM Sam’s alarm goes off D4 1/8 1 46-60: 56 INT N7glasses for Sam, laptop.

So...it all fits right?  It all tracks with the actual episode, where it lands, etc.  The issue is between shots 29-40 which were apparently “too big to spoil.”  Uh.  Where are they?  And where’s 28 pt4?

After Dean dies, the next scene is Sam burning him, then shot 31, the shot of his alarm going off.

So.  Where are those 11ish shots?

PLUS we have the boards, which are scenes we KNOW were actually shot:

As well as scenes for 20 that were shot in 19.

It’s just...weird, it’s weird and again hits on the fact that the episode is so short and like 80% montage.

The Scrubbing of Jack, Cas, and Eileen

So now we have to reckon with the fact that Eileen was last mentioned by Sam after she got snapped by Chuck, Jack’s last mention is that he’s off being God somewhere, and Cas’ last mention is a ~knowing look~ between Dean and Bobby.

I’m sorry, make it make sense:

????????  That’s the end if it?  They don’t need to be discussed after this???  It’s just simply not something a writer would do, they would not introduce these characters, these arcs, without thinking there’s going to be some kind of follow through here.

So not only were three major characters (including two leads and both of the original characters’ love interests) completely wiped from the finale episode, it was as though Sam and Dean never even needed them, which just...ain’t it.

So why Eileen and Jack too?  Why not just take Cas out of it if they were afraid of the gay?  Because, ultimately, the episode went back to Kripke’s original story: just the bros, they only need each other and no one else.  They don’t want anyone else, they don’t need anyone else.  Easier to go back to something they knew was successful than trust the writers and their audience and take a big leap.

Alex even said he shot for 20 with “some of the guys” here.  What happened to that footage?

The complete 180 of it all still shocks me, I still cannot believe that we were essentially at the finish line, and the network just stopped short, and decided to go run another race, at the expense of the arc of this fifteen year legacy show.

Network Involvement and When Things Were Cut

Okay, now into the juicy stuff.

So I’ve pretty well established that network fuckery is clear, but how much did they get involved, what was the original intent?

Well again, we may never actually know what Andrew’s original script was, but I think, at the least, it would involve Dean speaking his truth to Cas and Sam living a life with Eileen.

Now, it seems today, that Misha said that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale in one iteration of the script, and while initially my brain was like “that truly makes no sense and he’s either straight up lying or telling a half truth,” I think what may be happening is Misha talking about as much as he can right now.

So Jimmy right.  Weird as fuck.  Why would he been in the Roadhouse and not Cas?  My current thought (this is about as reachy as I’ll get) is that Jimmy had no lines, could he have been in the Roadhouse as a red herring, like it said “Jimmy” in the script but it was just Cas in human clothes, a way to get around the network saying Cas couldn’t be in the final scene.  Also, you’ll notice that Misha didn’t say that Cas wasn’t supposed to be in the ep at all, just Jimmy in the last scene.

All this to say, there have clearly been multiple versions of the script, getting lighter and lighter with Cas and Eileen as the network pulled further and further back.  Remember, Dabb has to get things approved before they get shot, and if the network kept asking and asking and asking to cut Cas and Eileen, he had to find a way to work around it.  Granted, I still think that if we had been able to get a Dabb script that wasn’t torn to shreds in editing, it wouldn’t be so bad.  It may not be what a lot of us wanted (Dean speaking his truth to Cas and a reciprocation), but doing everything he could to give it to us in subtext or visual clues.

Plus, in all honesty, my man can’t keep his story straight anyway.  He said twice in his panel that the Empty and offscreen Heaven ending weren’t his original ending either.

In addition, remember that Jensen did ADR post episode 18, AND said in a meet and greet last weekend that Dean’s reaction to Cas’ confession was “cut down.” (Source here).  Many of us clowns got excited when we first heard about ADR, because we thought it would be upping the ante on Dean’s reaction, but I remember being a little sus when it was just crying.  My speculation on that is that they cut out Dean actually SAYING something, @winchestersingerautorepair​ spoke about that here.

The biggest sins were, in my opinion, committed during editing, where the network got too gun shy and sliced the episode until it was nothing but a heartless bro-fest of a finale, not mentioning anything about the other major characters that we all love, and letting the boys just suffer in separation until Sam died and finally joined Dean in Heaven.  The editing came by cutting all the major emotional beats between anyone other than Dean and Sam, leaving the skeleton of the story intact, just shorter and less...poignant than it was ever supposed to be.

Misha

We know Misha was in Vancouver, we know he quarantined, but we also know he wasn’t in the final scene, when he spoke about being in the last moment of the show months ago.  We were not crazy, he was there, he quarantined, and, in all likelihood (speculation but fitting with the timeline), he actually may have shot something (not much, but something).

I have sources here, here, here, and here showing where Misha was at that time.

Remember, the man was completely open about coming back until they finished shooting (look at this thread).  The switch happened, just like everything else, halfway through them shooting.

Please also remember Jake Abel posting his “Where’s Misha” video here.  Jake isn’t malicious, he isn’t being nasty here.  Misha was there, and everyone that’s trying to convince people he’s wasn’t just...isn’t telling the truth about it.

This is one of the things that makes me really mad, because they’re literally attempting to gaslight people into thinking, “oh we were totally wrong he was never supposed to be there” WHEN HE WAS THERE, WE KNOW HE WAS THERE.

So we’ve already heard from several people (Meghan Fitzmartin, Jay, a PA on the set of 19 (WHO WAS NOT WORKING FOR 20), Misha himself) that this was all down to Covid restrictions.  Ultimately, as this post says, we’ve heard FIVE versions of where Misha was.  None of it makes sense, but the Covid protocol seems to be the company line that others are repeating.

You may ask: why?  Why lie to all of us when we have questions?  Why, in Jay’s case, say that we’re all spreading false lies to stir up trouble, when we just have questions and things that do not make sense.  Simply?  Warner Brothers is absolutely massive.  These people have their careers to protect and are likely all under NDAs.  They want to work for WB again and don’t want to burn bridges, including Misha.  It sucks, but that’s why it’s unlikely that we’ll hear someone come out and say, “yeah we’re lying to you.”

Silence of the Cast Post Episode

So this is...probably the worst part of all this, at least in my opinion.

The guys had all been pretty excited about the end of the show (especially Jared, but Jensen’s panel last week was Jensen as happy and jokey and positive as I’ve ever seen him.  He was so excited about episode 18, about what it meant for Dean and for Cas, and I just cannot buy that he would have been that excited unless he thought there was something more in the episode.

Misha live-tweeted the episode, and was watching it with his kids.  It’s well known that Misha and the kids don’t watch the show because it’s too scary, and let’s ask ourselves, why would he have them watch an episode that he’s barely even mentioned in?

He also stopped live-tweeting at a very specific point in the episode (Dean’s death) and has not mentioned Supernatural since then. 

None of them, not Jared, Jensen, Misha, or even Alex, said anything about the episode for nearly 36 hours, when Jensen posted a salty photo on instagram.  It’s just...not what you’d expect for the end of a 15 year show, when the cast and crew are so close to the fans, so close to each other. 

My theory?  They didn’t know.  They thought Misha was, at least, going to be in the episode in some way, and when he wasn’t, they decided not to say anything.

You really think that Jensen “Heller” Ackles would have been so excited about the end of the show last week if he thought Cas wasn’t going to be in it at all?  Nah son, doesn’t make any sense.

Even today, in Jared and Misha’s panels, they seemed sad and...more than a little careful, both saying that there were things they couldn’t say, both talking around things that we all have questions on.

Jensen Speaking with Kripke

So this is where a lot of people are getting fodder to take shots at the writers, saying that Jensen hated it from the beginning, but I don’t think so.  I actually think I know what Jensen went to him about, and it wasn’t the lack of Cas or the weird pacing or the montages (which I don’t think were there when Jensen got the script); I think it was the manner of Dean’s death.

I know a lot of people were upset about that, upset with how...normal it was, coming off an episode where they literally beat God.  I actually didn’t mind it, I thought it was an interesting thematic take to be like: you can be a hero all your life, but sometimes shit happens, and you just die.

But imagine how hard that was for Jensen to read.  He would run to Kripke for that, because for him, Dean dying by being impaled by a piece of rebar had to be tough to swallow.

So, why didn’t Kripke say that?  Why didn’t he say, “oh well he had a problem with Dean’s death, none of that other stuff was in the script.”

Guys.  Why would he get involved?  He’s not going to burn bridges any more than anyone else is.  He said the ending was good because it’s the easy thing to do, it’s simple, will cause him no problems in his career, and he can just ignore the people trying to engage with him on it.

Walker

Something else to talk about is the major shift this episode had from the rest of the season: the shift from Dean to Sam.  I am NOT saying that Sam isn’t important, he definitely, absolutely is, but it was DEAN who really needed to wrap up his arc, Sam just needed to move on, get married to Eileen, become the leader he was always meant to.  So what changed?  What was with the shirtless scene, the Austin number and random case there, most of the episode being heavily Sam focused, going through his entire life in a montage?

Anyone else notice the 375 Walker promos, or Jared’s little spiel about Walker and how he hoped SPN fans would “come along for the ride.”

It’s...kinda obvious?  CW wanted to appeal to who they think the key demographic of SPN and Walker is: rural areas in the South.  It would explain a lot, why so much editing, why so Sam focused, the Austin number, the number of Walker promos, all of it.

I’m not saying this is fact, I don’t know that it is, but it is a little suspicious that even in Jared’s panel today, he talked A LOT about Walker and how he hopes SPN fans will watch it.

Why Would the Network Get Involved?

Simply put: $$$

If they think Walker can be the new SPN, and that those crazy SPN fans liked it originally, it’s a lot safer to go with the “original intent” of the show than do something risky (like making one of your two original leads queer).

And?  They don’t care.  They don’t care that the episode didn’t make sense, they don’t care that all the emotional arcs were left hanging, they don’t care by (potentially) smashing together two of Dean’s monologues (one to Sam, one to Cas) that it came of as...gross. ( @curioussubjects​ wrote a beautiful post showing how part of that death speech was likely meant for Dean here).  They don’t care, they never have, they just want to make their money and move on from the too-loud fandom that fought for representation too hard for too long.

It can’t help but feel insidious, which, honestly, it might be, but it really all comes down to the next cash cow, which, they think, is Walker, even at the cost of the fifteen year legacy show.

The Writers and What I Want

So here it is, all this weird, sus shit laid out on the line.  And you know what?  To me, there is no way to blame the writers, because they didn’t want this.

I don’t think Dabb and Bobo would have gone ahead with the confession in 18 without thinking that there would be some closure to that arc, they wouldn’t have done that not only to the fans, but for the sake of their own story as well: no writer wants to start something that they can’t finish. (And this applies to both Cas and Eileen).

Here’s a basic rundown of what I think happened: they had a clear arc from 18-20, ending in reciprocation at some level from Dean, Sam marrying Eileen, Hunter Sam as the new Bobby, Dean in heaven with Cas and big roadhouse reunion at the end. Covid prevented a good amount of that. Network had to stare at big gay 18 for six months, got cold feet. Thought about Walker, target audience and alienation of the rural areas if it went full gay. Misha quarantined and likely shot something (not much), he was then cut by execs and went home. They likely added in lines referencing Eileen and Cas to make it clear but more subtextual. They wrap, editing gets it and hacks it to pieces, so we get a shorter episode that’s mostly montages and jarringly bro-centric with nothing else. Arcs are left hanging. Dabb gets episode but it’s too late, there’s nothing he can do. Actors aren’t told so they can continue to do positive PR for the ending, they all found out at the same time we did: hence almost complete silence about the finale.

And you know what?  They warned us.  I talked about it here, but they’ve been telling us all season that Chuck wasn’t the writer, he’s the network.  I don’t think, still, that they thought it would be cut up like this, into something so unsalvageable that it’s been panned by almost everyone, even people who didn’t care much about Dean and Cas.

Finally, a masterpiece can be ruined by editing, and while I’m not sure even the script they ended up shooting on was a masterpiece (due to the network meddling already), but to me it’s blatantly obvious that it’s no one but the network that caused this, that took away closure for Dean, Cas, and even Sam.

So what do I want?  Nothing really, there’s nothing we can do, but I wrote this mostly to show people that the writers are not your enemy.   In fact, to the people trashing them?  You’re doing exactly what the CW wants you to: blame the obvious targets, blame Misha, blame Jensen and Jared, blame Dabb.  Scream and yell at them on Twitter and about how the show is ruined because of them.  The network keeps their engagement levels high, they don’t get as targeted for their behavior, and just keep moving along.

Just, please, think about who did this,  Mourn the show, be angry, but not at the people who fought tooth and nail for this for literal years, not the people who wanted it more than we did, not the people who cannot say anything because of their careers and the NDAs they’re bound by.

Someone is going to spill eventually, but until then, we just have to wait, and continue to be loud.

#my writing #my meta #supernatural #spn #spn finale trash fire #MY MANIFESTO IS DONE

[the-fiction-witch]

NSFW 100 Paul

1. What's the dirtiest thought you've ever had about a total stranger? About a stranger? Ohh I don't know? Maybe that time I thought about having sex with that girl with the huge boobs in the bus but that was years ago.

2. Do you prefer sex at night, in the morning, mid-afternoon, or NOW? I like morning sex, theses something sweet and cuddly about it

3. What's your favourite way to be seduced? It's gonna sound weird but like pet me, like run your hands down my arm, or my neck, or stoke my chest or my hips or something just literally touch me and I uhhh I am good.

4. What's the dirtiest fantasy you've had at work? At work? What are we counting as work? Because I don't really think about much other then music.

5. How would you dominate your boss sexually if given the chance? Who are we classing as my boss? Our manager? Ooohh noo no no thank you.

6. What do you do when you get horny in public? Just kinda... Untuck my shirt and use it to cover my pants. And usually notify my girlfriend to uhh help with that.

7. Have you ever masturbated in a public bathroom? No! Have you been in a men's public bathroom. I don't even wanna go in there unless I absolutely have to and even then if I can't just piss in a bush, there usually three blow jobs, a murder, a drug deal and someone with horrific diahrea... I don't wanna step food in there.

8. What's the weirdest thing you've thought about while touching yourself? I don't know I don't really think all that much, I thought about a cup of tea once but to be fair I did just want one when I was finished so...

9. What's the strangest prop you've used to get yourself off? ...... A shower head. Look we have an old rickety shower okay! And when the water comes out the whole head like moves and stuff we had to put an elastic band around it so it actually stayed on the wall it moved around so much and, one night after me and y/n has been, kissing a little in the early dating stages I kinda just held it to my shaft and ... You can imagine what happened

10. Do you remember the first time you felt aroused? Yes! The first time y/n came over in this little blue dress she had always worn fairly high neck dresses and such but uhh this was a uhh well low cut and I saw cleavage and boobs and I uhh yeah I got very very hard.

11. Who gave you your first orgasm? I did! We technically my pillow did, same night after y/n had gone home I uhh yeah kinda just wrapped my legs around the pillow thinking about her and next thing I knew I was cumming. That was an eventful day.

12. Do you remember what that first orgasm felt like? Not at all. All I remember was that it hit like a tone if bricks and I had to bite the pillow so I didn't scream

13. Have you ever had sex with someone whose name you never knew? Not sex. I've got a blow job from someone I didn't know the name off but that was before me and y/n where dating.

14. What's your favourite thing about a quickie?

Hearing her trying to be quiet it's so adorable and cute.

15. What the most sexually daring thing you've ever done?

Sex onna bus! Yeah we where heading home to my flat one night after a gig and we where sat at the back of the bus all alone and I pulled her on my lap and we uhh yeah we had sex.

16. Have you ever fantasized about fucking one of your teachers? No I have not. That's a weird thing to do.

17. Do you ever mentally strip strangers just for kicks? Nope. I do not have the time or the thought capacity

18. And then imagine, in dirty detail, what it would be like to fuck them? Nope. You know who I imagine does thought. John.

19. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex?

Yes.... George. John dared us! I got him back I made him show is cock at a gig.

20. What inspires you to make the first move? Ummm Im not sure, usual just the thought comes into my head we have been sitting her a while or kissing a while or whatever so my hands just kinda take that as there sign to uhh do something already.

21. In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed? To pleasure your lover.

22. Have you ever cheated on a boyfriend or girlfriend because you just couldn't help yourself? No! I saw the other boys do it and saw how it ruined everything, I love y/n far to much to ever hurt her like that.

23. Have you ever pushed the boundaries of fidelity to the brink and then retreated just for the rush? No!

24. Do you have a go-to masturbation fantasy? Y/n climbing out my shower wrapped up in her little towel, dripping wet, coming into my bedroom putting my shirt on and nothing else and getting all cosy in my bed and maybe playing with herself a little... But I'm usually done by then

25. What kind of porn turns you on? I don't mind some of the magazines, not the ones where there like fully naked I like the little linguee and long shirts kinda magazines

26. Have you ever had sex with your eyes closed? Many times, not on purpose I just get overexcited and shut my eyes

27. Have you ever blindfolded or handcuffed your partner? No, but... If y/n would like to I have no issue with that.

28. Does naughty talk get you aroused?

Yes... 29. Are you sure about that, my dirty little forest nymph of a sex god?

Never sure my sexy babydoll

30. What's the dirtiest thing someone's ever said to you during sex?

I don't know honestly she doesn't talk all that much

31. Have you ever watched another couple get it on without them knowing?

No!

32. Have you ever watched another couple have sex with their permission?

No! What is with the pervy questions!

33. How would you respond if a couple approached you to be their "third"?

No thank you I have a beautiful girlfriend and I am very content with her

34. What's the most flattering thing someone's said about your naked body?

So beautiful, so sexy, I want you inside me now!

Yeah we both went a little nuts that day

35. When's the last time you had a vivid sex dream?

Like three weeks ago, I don't sex dream all that much maybe were having to much sex to make me horny in my dreams?

36. What do you think an orgy would be like?

Hot, sweaty and gross, no thank you

37. Have you ever propositioned a total stranger?

A couple of times usually egged on by john, but the most that ever came out of it was a blow job

38. What does your ideal one-night stand look like?

A nice sexy time, maybe a spoony cuddle, a cup of tea and then off home

39. How long does it take you to get yourself off, on average?

Myself about twenty minutes but I don't usually count when I'm with y/n

40. What's the weirdest thing that turns you on?

Seeing her in my clothes... That does things to me that I can't explain but it's so hot! My shirts, my boxers, ummm she looks so good!

41. Have you ever had a naughty dream about a close friend or family member?

I guess y/n counts before we where together as she was one of my best friends

42. Have you ever woken up humping your pillow?

Yes. Many times.

43. When's the last time you orgasmed in your sleep?

Years ago. I don't do that anymore now I just wait till I see y/n luckily she usually right in bed with me

44. What's the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you while hooking up?

John walked in on us during a uhh delicate time, as I was literally about to fucking cum! And now he knows to fucking knock!

45. Do you like touching yourself in front of the people you sleep with?

Many times y/n likes to watch me sometimes, and she likes to call me up and listen to me while I listen to her

46. What's the dirtiest text you've ever sent or received?

Well she once handed me a note that said "My house tonight parents are out x p.s being by favorite toy please xxx" ummm just thinking about it makes me hard.

47. Do you prefer professional or amateur porn?

Amateur!

48. What's your favourite blowjob technique?

Uhhhh suck I guess I don't know if you have it in your mouth I'm happy

49. If you had to pick, would you be a dominatrix or a submissive?

I think I am... Submissive. Just a little bit, maybe a lot

50. Is there anything you won't do in bed?

Anything with anal can fuck off on me or her

51. What's your dirtiest sexual fantasy?

Y/n coming in the room in my shirt pulling me around by my tie, tieing me to the bed and ummmm letting her do whatever she wants to me and I'd be bad just so she'd spank me.

52. How many people have you slept with?

Uhhh I think two. Maybe three? But I think two.

53. Where's the weirdest place you've had sex?

On john's apartments kitchen counter, he and the other guys went out to get take out for dinner and uhh we may have had sex on his counter top... Sorry John.

54. What's your favourite part of Y/n's body?

Her boobs. Or her hips I like both

55. Have you ever had anal sex?

Yes and it can fuck the hell off! I do not get what guys love about it so much it was had for me bad for her, the only time it was tolerable was when it was me! Ohh... I don't think I should have said that.

56. If you could choose what Y/n was wearing right now, what would you choose?

My blue boxer shorts and my red button down... Ummm with half the buttons undone

57. Where on your body is your favourite place to be touched?

My chest, I like when she pets me there.

58. If you could have sex anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Our bed of course?

59. When did you first had sex?

Ohh it was a terrible night, bent her over a bench in the park, the boys could hear us it was a weird time and I didn't enjoy much of it at all as I really liked y/n and this was just some pub girl named alice then but after it I got some courage and asked y/n out and we've been happy ever since

60. What's the best sex you've ever had?

The first time we did it in my apartment, we could be loud, we could take as long as we wanted, we could be kinky, we didn't have any worries and it was amazing!!

61. What's your favourite position?

I like to be ridden. But what boy doesn't?

62. Have you ever been caught having sex?

Yes, many times, john, my dad, her mum, all of my band, we get caught alot

63. Do you watch porn? I look at magazines

64. What kind of porn do you watch?

Magazines

65. How often do you masturbate?

Before y/n and I where dating actually even we where dating, before we became sexual in our relationship, twice a day at least now... I don't I literally haven't for over a month y/n takes care of me now

66. Name a sex position you'd like to try?

I wanna try reverse cowgirl so badly!!

67. Do you prefer to give or receive?

Give! I like hearing her gasp and moan for me

68. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Yes! It was fun I wanna go again but it's really really cold.

69. What's the most sex you've had in a day?

Ten I believe is the record.

70. Are you loud or quiet during sex?

Loud, we are not a quiet couple

71. Have you ever tried using food during foreplay?

Yes! We used honey my god it was so sticky never again!

72. What's the first thing that sexually attracts you to someone?

Personality, the boobs.

73. Would you say you have any fetishes?

I like to be spanked. And tied up.

74. When it comes to BDSM, how far have you gone/would go?

She has tied me up, and she spanked me sometimes, and... We may have done anal on me but that's it

75. What's your favourite toy?

Either the shower head or... Y/ns little spanking paddle she keeps at mine

76. Do you ever read erotic fiction?

No, but that sounds fun

77. Have you joined the mile high club?

No but I shall one day I vow to do so!

78. Do you think you could take off Y/n underwear with no hands?

I know I can I have done it many times I use my teeth and my tongue

79. Would you say you're kinky?

I don't think I am that kinky but y/n is and I just allow her to do whatever she wants to me

80. Do you enjoy shower sex?

Yes!! It's so good, so warm, and wet and the shower is good too, plus we get to use the shower head on each other fucking hell she sqeauls!

81. Where's the weirdest place you've ever masturbated?

Under the table at the school library, I couldn't stop thinking about y/n and yeah I uhh did that

82. Do you like to be spanked?

Yes... but only when I've been a bad boy

83. Have you ever fantasised about someone else during sex?

Once, the first time, I imagined she was y/n

84. If y/n caught you masturbating, would you stop or would you finish?

I would do whatever she asked me too but I know she'd likely wanna watch me finish for her

85. Have you ever had an inappropriate crush?

Not really, y/n was pretty normal a crush so no.

86. Have you ever cried or fallen asleep during sex?

I have cried many times,

87. Do you prefer eye contact or not during sex?

I like it but it tends to make me louder and more needy

88. Do you like to kiss during sex?

Very much, the more kisses the better

89. Do you get tired after sex?

I do, usually I cuddle up to y/n and give her a kiss and we fall asleep in each other's arms

90. How many positions do you think you've tried?

Uhh not all that many four I would say as a guess

91. What's the longest you've ever gone without sex

I guess about a week, if we are not counting before time

92. How high is your sex drive?

Medium, y/n has a higher drive then I do

93. What's a surefire way to turn you on?

Rub your hand across my neck as we kiss and all the way down till your rubbing my cock, fuck it makes me hard!

94. Sex with lights on or lights off?

On! I wanna see what's going on

95. Do you like dirty talk?

I like when she calls me a bad boy, especially if she is also rubbing on my cock or spanking me at the same time the dirty talk adds to it

96. Do you prefer one night stands or longer-term sexual partners?

Long term

97. Do you prefer to be on top or bottom?

Bottom!

98.Rough or romantic?

Romantic

99. Quickie or marathon session?

Marathon! I wanna go for hours and hours!

100. What's the best thing about our sex life?

Awww, that we have complete faith in one another I don't worry about you while I'm gone and you know you don't have to worry about me, so when we get together again I get to have my perfectly smutty girly that I love ever so much, that and it's fun when the boys ask where I get my brusies from and I get to say there hikis from my sexy girlfriend, even if they are in usually places.

#paul mccharmly #paul mccartney #nowhereboy #nowhere boy #tbs au #tbs #tbs fanfiction #tbs smut #tbs sex #tbs smutty #tbs fanfic #thomas #TBS Imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomassangster #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster i #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster s #thomas sangster smut #thomas sangster x reader #thomas smut #thomas sangser imagine

[teamhappyme]

31 from the fluff prompts with peter!!! (yes this is what i meant oops-)

my darling red! so happy you requested peter as this is my first peter fic! 

yes i went way too into detail about baseball but it’s the first thing that came to mind-

pairing: peter stone x female!reader

prompt: “shut up before i kiss you”

warnings: none. 

word count: 1.4k

****

“Are you kidding me? He has a no hitter through six innings, and as soon as he lets someone on first, which was actually due to an error by the shortstop, he gets pulled?” You threw your empty cup on the ground before turning to Peter.

He was silent, with a growing smirk on his face as you continued to ramble on about the coaching staff, or lack thereof, in your opinion.

“Great, now they’re putting this guy in? I know it’s early in the season, but he’s closed three games so far and he doesn’t even have a win.”

You and Peter were at Citi Field, watching the Mets go against the Phillies. You’d agreed to go to a game with him under one circumstance; you got to sit in the bleachers like regular people. No boxes, no special menu for the former starting pitcher. You wanted to experience the game like you always had growing up; with greasy hot dogs, and beers spilling all around you.

This was technically your first date with the ADA. According to Rollins, Peter had been trying to ask you out for weeks. Asking you to join him for drinks after a long case, offering to get dinner after a late night interrogation, but you said no every time, too invested in the case, or too oblivious to his motives. 

It was a no brainer for you when he finally asked you to come to the game with him, on a date, he clarified, the two of you sharing a laugh over his failed past attempts. He’d been working with the unit for almost a year now, but it was weird to think of your job without him in the mix.

Although you were surprised that Peter was trying to take you on a date for months, it was him that now stood speechless as you critiqued every pitching change, stolen base, and balls that seemed to be just outside of the strike zone. “Christ, this guy couldn’t find the strike zone if it hit him in the face.” 

What surprised him the most would have to be your vocabulary. He knew you could go off on a perp in interrogation, but he didn’t peg you for the profanity enduring type. But your passion for the game only made him feel warmer inside.

“Peter, he hasn’t cleared the plate once,” You started as the batter took his place on first base. “You’d think they’d approach the mound, at least try-”

“Would you shut up before I kiss you?” He interrupted you, the smirk on his face unbelievably teasing. 

You turned to face him, silenced by his statement, a red flush starting to cover your face. But you recovered quickly, not ready to show your hand completely to the counselor.

“Peter Stone, I don’t kiss on the first date.” 

“You wouldn’t be willing to make an exception for me?” He asked, eyes flickering to your lips for a brief second before locking on your eyes again. 

You were certainly tempted. But you were also having too much fun. 

“Maybe, if you joined in on my expert commentary, I could rethink my stance. I mean, I am at a baseball game with the former starting pitcher for the Cubs.” He rolled his eyes as I lightly shoved his shoulder. “C’mon, you know I’m right about that pitching move. And you’re just dying to tell me how smart I am for recognizing it.”

“Alright, alright, you are right about pulling the pitcher.” You smiled, shooting your hand into the air in victory. “But don’t let it get to your head. We have two and a half innings left, and like you said, you’re here with the former starting pitcher for the Cubs. I may know a thing or two more than you.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and you easily leaned into him. You couldn’t hide the smile growing on your face, even if you wanted too.

“Bring it on, Ace.”

****

“So I think we can both agree that you should be the new manager for the New York Mets,”

“Deal. But only if you sign on to be my pitching coach. And Noah Porter Benson is our number one starting pitcher.”

“Deal.” Peter smiled, and looked over at you.

After the game, the two of you took the subway from Queens back to Manhattan, when Peter insisted on walking you home. You only objected four times, but after he grabbed your hand and started leading the way to your apartment, you quickly shut your mouth. 

You thought he would’ve let go of your hand after a few seconds. Instead, he laced your fingers together, and hadn’t let go in ten minutes. 

The night had gone so smooth, never a lull in the conversation, due in large part to your inability to keep your coaching opinions to yourself. But Peter liked that about you; he liked that you didn’t shy away from him, or make him take charge of the night. Everything was so easy with the two of you. Everything just made sense.

When you approached your brick building, you let out a sigh. You really didn’t want this night to end.

“Let me walk you up,” He offered, clearly not done spending time together either. 

You took the elevator, letting you off at the third floor to walk to your door. Peter still hadn’t let go of your hand.

“This is me. Lucky number nine.” You said as you stood in front of your door, turning to face Peter. He looked so soft in his jeans and crew neck, so much more relaxed than in his suits for the office. 

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” He started. “Thank you for finally agreeing to come on a date with me.”

You let out a laugh, while looking down at your intertwined hands. “Yeah well, I would’ve agreed sooner had I not been so blind to your intentions.”

“Well we can still make up for lost time.” He gave your hand a squeeze, and you looked up to meet his gaze. “Would you come to dinner with me Friday night, for a second date?”

“You sure you still want to spend time with me after tonight? I don’t shut up easily,” You teased, earning a grin from your handsome date. 

“I’m sure. You keep me on my toes, detective.”

“Good. Because I’ve been rethinking that rule I have about first dates,” You took a step towards him, still leaving enough space for him to back out. But the red tinge on his cheeks told you he wouldn’t.

“Oh really?” He asked, letting go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist. It brought you closer to him, enough to see that his eyes held a little bit of green amongst the sea of blue. 

He cocked his head to the side the slightest bit, as if to ask if this was okay. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, a small nod to show you meant it. 

When his lips met your own, they were soft, perfectly fitting together in a short, sweet kiss. He started to pull away, but you quickly pulled him back to your lips, not done with him just yet. You felt him smile into it, a little exhale of breath leaving his nose and tickling your upper lip. That made you smile, preventing you from staying together any longer.

You leaned back, removing your hands from around his neck to circle his waist, finally feeling the soft fabric of the blue crew neck.

“I’d say that made up for months of miscommunication.” He grinned, and you could only smile in response. 

“Definitely.” Your eyes found the clock at the end of the hall, already eleven thirty. “As much as I’d love to talk all night about my coaching strategy, we both have to be in court early tomorrow morning.”

He bowed his head in disappointment, knowing you were right. Rollins and Carisi were testifying tomorrow and needed all the rest you could get. 

“Then you’ll just have to save it for Friday.” He said and unwrapped himself from you. You held on another second, enjoying the warmth from his torso. 

“I will. Now, go get some sleep. I’ll see you from the gallery tomorrow.”

“Okay. Make sure you keep your comments to yourself in there.” He joked, earning him a light smack to his chest. “See you in the morning.” 

He leaned down and kissed your cheek, then lightly pecked your lips. “Sleep tight.”

You watched him walk back down the hall as you unlocked your door, a little dizzy from the charming effects of ADA Peter Stone.

****

#peter stone x female!reader #peter stone x reader #peter stone fic #law and order svu #jules writes shit ??

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 6

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child. 

a/n: well... here it is lol 2(or 3?) weeks late. sorry for the wait, this chapter was just a bitch to write and every time i thought i was done, i wasn’t happy with it & i didn’t wanna post just for the sake of posting. but i stayed up until 2 a.m. to finish this, so technically it is sunday so im posting on schedule lol

im not sure how many parts are left to this story, maybe two or three + an epilogue but i haven’t decided yet. 

also, this gif made me feel things 😂

word count: 2.1k (i wish they were longer too but im doing the best i can😩)

warnings: none other than a couple swear words

Part 6

29 weeks

“What are you doing?”

“Researching how to murder someone and get away with it.” You mutter, typing where to buy a tiger in Google.

Becca gives you a wary look and sits next to you. “Everything okay?”

“No!” You groan in frustration, tossing your phone on the coffee table. “Matthew is driving me insane.”

She frowns. “Is he being an ass?”

“He’s being nice. Too nice.” You grumble, ignoring when Becca chuckles. “It’s like he’s trying to make up for missing the doctor’s appointment even though I told him I forgive him.”

Becca raises an eyebrow at you and you try to ignore her pointed look. “Do you though?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask defensively.

“You’re different around him now and I’m sure he’s noticed. It’s like you don’t trust him.”

You start to deny her accusation but stop to think about it. Were you more cautious around Matt lately? You certainly didn’t let yourself depend on him for things that you had been before, too afraid that he would let you down. You wanted to, but there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you that he’s let you down before and there’s always a chance he will again.

It’s as if Becca can read your mind because she shrugs. “You should be honest with him.”

However, something you’ve learned recently is that too much honestly can get you in trouble.

. . .

Sending Matt a text that said we need to talk, probably wasn’t the best approach because it took him approximately fifteen minutes to show up at your apartment and his is a half hour drive away from yours.

So his windblown hair and wide eyes really weren’t a surprise when you opened your front door.

“So, I think I should have worded that text a little better.”

“You think?” He huffs, walking past you when you step aside. He doesn’t even bother to take his shoes or jacket off, walking straight to the living room and turning to look at you.

“I’m sorry. For whatever I did.” He says and you groan.

“That’s the problem! Stop being sorry for things. It’s driving me nuts.”

He frowns and looks at you in confusion. “So… you don’t want me to be sorry for things?”

“I don’t want you to not be sorry for things, I just want you to stop being sorry for everything. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around me.”

“I’m just trying to make-”

“Make up for missing the appointment.” you say, finishing his sentence. “I know.” your hand falls to your stomach and you sigh. “We’re going to be parents in less than three months. We need to start trusting each other.”

Matt slowly walks over to you and reaches out for your hand which you let him hold. His thumb rubs across the back of it and he nods.

“You’re right.”

You grin and lightly punch his shoulder with your free hand. “Of course I am. When am I ever wrong?”

He smiles, pulling you in for a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You ignore the way it makes your heart race because the last thing you need right now is your feelings for him to get even more confusing when you’re both finally on the same page.

Things are good now and you can’t risk messing it up.

. . .

31 weeks

He’s like a kid in a candy store, you’ve realized as you follow Matt around buy buy BABY. He has two carts, one already stocked full of things and the other slowly being filled. You stopped keeping count of how much everything costed an hour ago because the number started to make you queasy.

“He has enough clothes, Matty.” You whine, taking note of how Matt trips over his feet when you call him by that nickname. “and he’ll grow out of them before he even gets a chance to wear them.”

“Last one, I swear.” He says, holding up an outfit. “C’mon, how fucking cute is he going to look in this?”

“If his first word is a swear word, I’m going to kill you.” You mutter, taking the outfit from him and tossing it in the cart. Matt just grins and rests a hand on your stomach, hoping the baby will kick.

“How’s Joey?”

“Grayson is doing just fine.”

“We’re never going to come to an agreement on a name, are we?” he asks and you smile sweetly.

“Nope.”

He laughs and starts walking towards the checkouts.

“Did my mom tell you that they’re coming to visit?” He asks and you nod, recalling your conversation with Chantal. She’d called you first to make sure you were okay with the entire Tkachuk clan showing up. She knows how stressful pregnancy is and didn’t want to overwhelm you.

But you were ecstatic when she asked if it was okay for them to visit. You’ve grown to depend on her for any pregnancy questions over the past seven months and even when you needed some regular advice for everyday things, you sometimes texted her.

“Yeah, it’s Wednesday, right?”

Matt nods, smiling politely at the cashier as he starts loading every thing on the conveyor belt. You can tell that she’s a hockey fan by the way her eyes light up when she recognizes who he is.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you can pick them up from the airport?” He asks, catching you off guard. “Their plane lands around noon and I won’t be back until later that night and I don’t really want them to have to take a cab.”

You’re a little surprised that he’s asking you to do this instead of paying someone or asking a close friend to do it instead. It’s an odd feeling, realizing that he trusts you with his family.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You tell him and his smile warms you to the bone.

. . .

You show up to the airport forty-five minutes early because you can’t decide if you should wait in the SUV for Matt’s family, or meet them in the airport. Would it be weird to wait for them inside like you would with your own friends or family? You double check your phone to make sure that Matt did tell them it was you picking them up because how weird would it be if they were expecting him only to find you waiting.

You’re definitely over thinking it but you find yourself standing at the gates when their plane lands.

Chantal is the first person you see and her face lights up and she scurries over to you, pulling you in for a soft hug.

“Oh, look at you!” She gushes, taking your hands in hers and holding you at arms length. “You’re glowing.”

Glowing isn’t exactly the word you would use because as much as you tried to look nice to pick them up, you’re still seven months pregnant, sweating because of the jacket you have on and most definitely are wearing odd shoes because you can no longer see your feet and Matt wasn’t here to check for you.

But you blush nonetheless, letting Keith, Taryn, and Brady hug you before starting to walk to baggage claim.

“Thank you for picking us up.” Chantal says and you smile.

“It’s nothing,” you say, brushing it off. “You’ve done a lot for me.”

“Anything I can do to help. I know how hard it is being pregnant with your man travelling a lot.”

You want to correct her when she calls Matt your man, but you don’t want to be impolite so you just nod.

“Speaking of your man,” Brady says in a teasing voice, “what time does he get in, again?”

“Around 8.” You say, ignoring the teasing tone and changing the subject to ask Taryn how school is going. You know you’ll hear more comments about the nature of your relationship with Matt from his brother but for now, you chat with Taryn and Chantal about plans for the baby.

. . .

Matt gave you a key to his apartment when you both realized that you spent more time at his these days then you did at your own so you don’t miss the knowing looks Chantal and Keith share when you use your key to unlock Matt’s apartment. You know they can tell it’s your key and not Matt’s because he painted it your favourite colour when he gave it to you.

“So do we get a sneak peak of the nursery?” Taryn asks hopefully and you nod, gesturing for her to follow you. Matt turned one of the guest rooms in to the nursery in his apartment. You haven’t done anything with yours yet because you and Matt were starting to wonder if after the baby is born, at least for a little while, the two of you should just live together. It would certainly make things much easier.

“It’s beautiful.” Chantal says, and you can see her eyes watering a little.

“We’re going to put up letters spelling his name above the crib.”

“Oh yeah, have you guys decided on a name yet?” Keith asks, testing the sturdiness of the crib by wiggling it a little.

“No.” You mutter. “We can’t agree on anything.”

“You’ll find something you both love eventually.” Chantal reassures you. “Now, please tell me my son has food in his fridge, because I’m going to cook dinner.”

You grin, realizing that she too knows how bad Matt is at keeping his fridge stocked. Before you started spending so much time here, you would be lucky if he had eggs in the fridge.

. . .

Matt arrives home just as dinner is cooked and you get to witness what a typical Tkachuk night must look like. There’s lots of chirps thrown but you can tell how close this family is and how much they care about each other. Especially when it comes to Matt and his mom and sister. He treats them like gold and it warms your heart to see it.

After dinner, you volunteer to clean up and you’re surprised when Keith offers to help. You’ve only spoken to him a few times before today and you don’t feel as close to him as you do with Chantal so it’s quiet while the two of you clear up the dishes.

Keith breaks the silence after a couple minutes, turning to look at you.

“I know Matthew can be a handful… but don’t give up on him, okay?”

You’re surprised to hear this coming from Keith because you were truthfully expecting Taryn or Brady to say something about it. Every time you and Matthew touched or spoke to each other, you noticed the knowing looks and soft smiles from the other Tkachuk family members.

It was like they knew something that neither you nor Matthew did.

You’re not sure what exactly to say so you just nod.

“I won’t.” You promise, realizing that you truly mean it.

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames fanficton #allies writing

[carly-they-jepsen]

RWRB Timeline

I originally worked out the timeline for Sep. 27, 2020, and when people suggested I post it on tumblr, I said fuck it and did the whole book.

Go big or go home, right? 

I have spent the past 3 days working on this. It’s half summaries of the events of the days in order, and half “here’s a one sentence summary of the day”.

Whenever possible, I’ve detailed out when things happen by the hour, like the day at Wimbledon, or the email leak day, including guesstimations on flight times, and what time EST and BST Alex is taking off and landing. I often forgot to add vague things like “morning” in, so sorry about that.

I’ve bolded all the dates I’m sure of.

Bold and italics means an official date: emails, text threads, tweets, holidays, Georgetown, etc.

Two asterisks ** = official dates.

Just bold means a day I’m sure of, based off of official dates: Two weeks later, day one post lake house, “a tuesday”, etc.

One asterisk: * = something I’m sure of based on official dates.

I’ve also bolded days of the week I’m sure of, even if I’m not certain of the date.

I’ve left a few things vague. Like, October 2020 is a lot of “sometime between these days, this happened”. Feel free to pick a day in that range to your heart’s content.

If you don’t like the day I picked for little things like Bea walking in on face time, or coming out to June, feel free to change it.

I didn’t bold everything I’m certain on, as I technically don’t have textual evidence to back it up. (Things like the wedding day, Alex and Henry’s texts at in the beginning, some things during the campaign.)

I’m 100% willing to answer questions on why I chose certain days, and any other questions or comments you may have!

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

**Aug. 28, 2019 (Wed.) — Alex starts classes at Georgetown, Winter Semester 2019

Sep. 7-Sep. 8, 2019 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 5-6) — Alex and June attend an event and listen to an hour and a half of speeches about carbon emissions. June is whisked away to a star studded gala. Alex shows up to the presidential suite with a bottle of champagne. Around 4 a.m. Alex leaves after fake hooking up with Nora.

Sep. 12, 2019 (Th.) (p. 3-8) — June and Alex go over the tabloids. Alex has been working on a research paper all week

Sep. 13, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 8-12) — The US crew flies to London. 

6 a.m. EST: Take off. 

5 p.m. BST: Land in London. (Wiggle the take off time to your heart’s content. Flight is around 6 hours give or take for Air Force 1, plus time to and from the airport, plus the time change. The flight time is “11 hours” with the time change if that helps you calculate the landing time in London.) They potentially have 1-2 appearances that evening.

Sep. 14, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 12-20) — The royal wedding. The US crew has 1-2 appearances before arriving at the ceremony. The ceremony happens. Reception happens at a Buckingham ballroom. The White House Trio chats, Henry dances with June. Alex finds Henry hovering by the champagne fountain and they argue. Alex trips over his own foot and crashes into the $75k wedding cake, pulling Henry down with him.

Sep. 16, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 21-27) — Alex gets chewed out over the Incident by Zahra and the President in a White House briefing room. He gets told he will be leaving Saturday to make nice with Henry in England.

Sometime between Mon. Sep. 16 and Fri. Sep. 20, 2019 (p. 27-32) —  Alex, Nora, and June meet in the Whitehouse and go over the HRH Prince Henry Fact Sheet. Alex bemoans the fact that he just finished his midterms.

Sep. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 32-37) — Alex leaves in the early a.m. EST and arrives late afternoon/early evening in London. (11-12 hour difference in takeoff time to landing time. Note, this is just DC to Lon., not the other way round.). Meets Henry at the stable and a royal photographer takes pictures.

Sep. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 37-53) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex is wide awake and goes into the kitchen for a snack. Henry stumbles in, and Alex posts a photo of them with their ice cream on Instagram.

9 a.m.: Interview with The Morning.

Afternoon meeting with cancer patients. Alex and Henry spend some time in the closet chatting after fireworks are mistaken for gunshots. Before his flight home, Alex puts his number in Henry’s phone. Likely lands around 7-8 p.m. EST.

Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 54-61) — Alex has a lecture on presidential sex scandals. Texts Nora about the probability of one of them having a sex scandal by the end of the second term and she replies with 94% and a link to a gifset of Henry and Alex at The Morning where someone has commented “omfg make out already”. Alex meets with Rafael Luna after his class.

Sometime between Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) and Oct. 6, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 61-68) — June, Alex, Leo, and Ellen have dinner together. June texts Alex to have dinner and he forgets to respond until 1.5 hours later when Ellen texts about family dinner. She offers them jobs in the campaign and June turns it down the next morning.

Oct. 9, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68) — Henry texts Alex while Alex is in a policy lecture. His opening line is “this bloke looks like you” with a picture of the Ewok Chief Chirpa from Return of the Jedi.

Oct. 16, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68-69) — Alex finally responds a week later after seeing a headline on the cover of People about Henry in Australia with a photo of him in a pair of minuscule navy swim trunks. “you have a lot of moles. is that a result of the inbreeding?

Oct. 18, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 69) — Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Alex gets ejected from Zahra’s weekly debriefing meeting with him and June.

Oct. 19-Oct. 28, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 69-71) — Henry and Alex text regularly on a variety of topics including family, friends, beer, boats, and Hogwarts houses.

**Oct. 29, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 71-72) — Henry texts Alex about being in a meeting with Philip. Later that night Alex replies, asking what the meeting was about.

**Oct. 30, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 73) — 1:07 p.m. EST Henry and Alex text about Henry’s grey tie in his instagram post.

**Nov. 17, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 74) — 11:04 a.m. EST: Henry receives a box of Ellen Claremont campaign buttons with Alex’s face on them. Sniffer dogs were nearly called after the security theme thought it was a bomb. Alex and Henry text about it.

**Nov. 25, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 75-84) — Alex finds out that the turkeys his mom will be pardoning have been staying in the Willard Hotel on taxpayers dime. He convinces her to put them in his room.

10 p.m. EST/3 a.m. GMT: Alex regrets his decisions. He calls Henry to prove they’re as terrifying as Alex claims and they have a long conversation about the turkeys, Henry’s pets, and how Henry surprises Alex.

**Dec. 8, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 84) — 8:53 p.m. EST: Alex texts Henry about a Bond marathon happening on TV. He asks if Henry knows his dad was a total babe, which Henry replies with “I BEG YOU NOT”

*Dec. 20, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 84-85) — Ellen reads an article in the Post with the headline “Senator Oscar Diaz Returns to DC For Holidays With Ex-Wife President Claremont”. She continues to stress about decorations in the Lincoln Bedroom for Oscar.

*Dec. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 85) — Oscar Diaz arrives at the White House. June nearly breaks a vase launching herself into his arms. Oscar and June disappear to the chocolate shop on the ground floor.

*Dec. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 85-86) — Oscar and Alex bond over a cigar on the Truman Balcony.

*Dec. 23, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 87) — Alex catches Oscar in the kitchens with two of the cooks, laughing and dumping peppers into a pot.

*Dec. 21-23, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 86-87) — Alex wishes it could be like this more often and misses having everyone under one roof.

**Dec. 24, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 87-95) — Christmas dinner is held on Christmas Eve so Zahra can still attend. Zahra wears a sensible red turtleneck. Alex wears a sweater covered in bright green tinsel. ‘O Christmas Tree” plays out of a speaker near his armpit when he presses a button on the inside of his sleeve. Dinner conversation moves to the election. Oscar and Ellen argue. Alex loses his temper and leaves.

9:30 p.m. EST/2:30 a.m. GMT: Alex changes into an old lacrosse shirt and calls Henry. Henry is wearing candy cane pjs. Alex tells Henry about the divorce and what happened at dinner and only realizes he’s been talking for an hour when henry says “It sounds like you did your best.) June knocks on the door and Alex hangs up after thanking Henry and wishing him a Merry Christmas.

10:30 p.m.: June and Alex talk about what happened after Alex left and then Alex tells her he was talking to Henry, not Nora.

**Dec. 26, 2019 (Th.) (p. 95-97) — Alex spends the day going over waivers for the “Legendary Balls Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve Party” aka “The Young America New Year’s Eve Gala” aka “The Millennial Correspondents Dinner”.

Dec. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 96-97) — Alex discovers Henry is coming to the party and bringing Pez when he glances at the final guest list while the Trio are looking at confetti samples and eating cake samples.

**Dec. 31, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 97-103) — Pez posts a picture of him and Henry on a private jet headed to DC with the caption “USA bound! #YoungAmericaGala2019” Pez has dyed his hair pastel pink, and Henry is wearing a grey sweatshirt. Alex texts Henry that he will be wearing a burgundy suit and warns Henry to not attempt to outshine Alex, as he will fail and Alex will be embarrassed for him. Henry replies “Wouldn’t dream of it”. After that the Trio begins getting ready. Nora’s short curls are swept to the side with a matching silver pin to the geometric designs on the bodice of her black dress. June’s gown is midnight blue and perfectly compliments the navy-and-gold color palette they chose for the party.

8 p.m.: Guests begin to arrive. The first wave includes some White House interns, and the daughter of a first time Senator and her girlfriend. The second wave is the politically strategic invites chosen by the press team, and finally the fashionably late, including Minor to mid-range popstars and the children of major celebrities.

Pez and Henry show up. Pez is in a colorful floral print shiny silk bomber jacket. Henry is wearing a simple dark blue suit with a bright coppery-mustard tie in a narrow cut. Alex realizes this is the first time they’ve seen each other in person since their weekend in London and feels like he’s meeting a new person.

There's dancing and mingling, and June makes a speech about the immigration fund they’re supporting with their donations. June and Henry talk at the bar.

The live band breaks and the DJ takes over. Alex finds out Henry hasn’t ever dry humped to “Get Low”. There’s more dancing and crowd pleasers until midnight.

11:59 p.m.: They huddle together for the countdown.

**Jan. 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 103-108) — 12:00 a.m. Nora kisses Alex

Alex loses track of things. Alex goes looking for Henry. He eventually finds him under a tree. They talk. Henry is vague and Alex is dummy thicc. Henry calls Alex thick and kisses him. Henry pulls away and disappears from the party.

*Jan. 1-Jan. 4, 2020 (Th.-Sat.) (p. 109) — Alex tries listening in on his mom’s meeting as a distraction but can’t pay attention. Zahra bans him from the West Wing.

*Jan. 5-Jan 7, 2020 (Sun.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex studies bills going through Congress and considers making the rounds at the Senate or starting a rumor with Nora, but he has no enthusiasm.

**Jan. 8, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 109) — Alex begins his final semester at Georgetown.

*Jan. 9-Jan. 14, 2020 (Th.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex throws himself into classwork, meets with the social secretary to plan his graduation dinner. Henry doesn’t answer his texts.

*Jan. 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 110-114) — June is fed up with Alex’s pacing and takes him out for a run. Alex does some introspection. Alex tells his mom he wants to start his campaign job now, instead of waiting until he graduates.

*Jan. 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 115) — Alex starts his new job at the campaign offices.

*Jan. 20-Jan. 25, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 115-116) — Alex puts 23 hours into his new job and Definitely Does Not Think About Henry.

*Sometime between Jan. 25 and Jan 29, 2020 (Fri.-Wed.) (p. 116-122) — Alex comes out to Nora and tells her about Henry.

*Jan. 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 122-127) — Alex rushes from work to his lecture and review and returns to the White House in a bad mood. June has the week’s tabloids. Alex freaks out at the idea that Henry is going on a date with a girl. Alex finally realizes he’s not straight. Alex calls Liam.

*Jan. 31, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 128-146)  — The state dinner. There's a hot makeout session and Alexander Hamilton watches.

10:48 p.m.: Alex paces around his room.

10:54 p.m. Henry arrives at Alex’s rooms

*Feb. 1, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 122) — Alex has a campaign event in Nebraska

Feb. 13, 2020 (Th.) (p. 146-147) — Henry informs Alex of a charity polo match in Greenwich, Connecticut. That evening, June asks why he’s bailing on the fund-raiser he’s meant to be at

**Feb. 15, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 147-152) — The polo match. Alex spends 4.5 hours driving up, stays for 3 hours, and then drives 4.5 hours back.

**March 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 152) — 7:32 p.m. EST: Alex sends Henry an email asking if he will be in Paris for a fundraiser that weekend.

**March 4, 2020, (Wed.) (p. 152-156) — 2:14 a.m.-2:43 a.m.: Henry replies, and eventually concedes after a brief back and forth.

*March 7-8, 2020 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 157-158) — Henry and Alex have a clandestine hookup in Paris and spend the night together.

*March 8, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 158) — Zahra texts Alex a screenshot of a buzzfeed article about him and Henry.

*March 9-March 27, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 158-159) — Alex and Henry continue to text.

Sometime between March 23 and 26, 2020 (Mon.-Th.) (p. 159) — Alex tells Henry about a voter drive he will be attending in NYC at the end of March and Henry re-schedules his visit to NYC for that weekend.

*March 27, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 159) — Alex and Henry celebrate their birthdays with champagne and a buttercream cupcake.

April 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 159) — Alex convinces Henry to download Snapchat.

April 4, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 159) — Henry sends a snap of him on a sailboat.

April 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 182) — Bea walks in on an after-dark FaceTime session.

April 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 160) — Henry is right that Remus John Lupin is gay as the day is long and won’t hear a word against it.

April 10, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 161) — June notices the photo of the man with AIDS protesting pinned over Alex’s desk

*April 11, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 162) — Henry and Alex meet at a gala in Berlin. Alex ties Henry’s wrists to the bedpost.

*April 13, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 162-163) — Zahra notices the hickeys on Alex’s neck at the weekly briefing.

*April 25, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 163-173) — Someone paints “Powder Princess” on the side of Bea’s car. Late afternoon EST: Henry and Alex have a phone call largely centered around family.

April 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 173-182) — 9:44 p.m.: Alex redraws districts in Texas and misses dinner with June. After getting back to the Residence, June reveals she’s known about Alex and Henry the whole time.

*May 2, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 183-185) — 4 a.m. EST/9 a.m. BST: Alex FaceTimes Henry and Pez at Llwynywermod.

**May 1-9, 2020 (Fri.-Sat.) (p. 185) — Georgetown finals week

**May 15, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 186-189) — Alex graduates summa cum laude from Georgetown. Jacinto drops out, making Richards the official Republican nominee. Alex eavesdrops on a conversation between Rafael Luna and Oscar Diaz.

Sometime between May 16 and May 22, 2020 (Sat.-Fri.) (p. 189) — Henry invites the Trio to a fund-raiser in LA the next weekend.

*May 30, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 189-200) — Alex gets lunch with his dad, who changes the subject every time Alex brings up the conversation with Luba. Alex attends the fund-raiser in LA followed by partying. Henry and Alex fuck.

*May 31, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 200-201) — 7:00 a.m.: Alex and Henry wake up. June, Nora, and Pez are heavily implied to have had a threesome. Alex realizes he has friends now.

**June 8, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 202-206) — 3:23 p.m.-7:21 p.m. EST:  Henry and Alex exchange emails.

**June 13, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Alex misses his first DC pride while in Nevada. He “talks to his minibar about it”

*June 20, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Houston rally at Minute Maid Park.

*June 22, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 207-210) — Alex argues with WASPy Hunter about Texas. Alex looks up LSAT testing centers in DC.

*June 23, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 210-213) — Alex texts the groupchat “3 Geniuses and Alex” with Nora, Bea, and Henry asking where his speech for Milwaukee is.

Sometime between June 24 and July 3, 2020 (Wed.-Fri.) (p. 213) — Alex receives an invitation to Wimbledon

*July 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 213) — 10:20 p.m. EST: Alex takes off from DC for London.

**July 6, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 213-221) — Alex spends his one day off from the campaign at Wimbledon with Henry.

10:35 a.m. BST: Alex lands in London.

11:30 a.m.: Alex makes it through customs and Henry and Shaan pick him up at the airport.

12:30 p.m.: Arrival at Wimbledon

1:00 p.m.: The first game at Central Court begins

4:00 p.m.: Philip and Martha show up. Philip is an idiot that says “Morning”. Bea, like a smart person, says “Afternoon”. Henry and Philip argue, and Henry runs off.

4:10 p.m.: Alex finds Henry in the clubhouse

4:12 p.m.: Henry “shows Alex round the clubhouse”. Alex and Henry cum for the first time

After that they go to Kensington. Henry plays the piano for a while. They make out for what could be hours. They move to Henry’s room where Henry, at least, cums for the second time that day. Alex spends almost an hour making Henry cum for a third time. After that, Henry asks Alex to fuck him again, where Henry cums for the fourth time that day, and Alex cums for at least the second time, possibly a third time.

Alex takes hours to sleep.

*July 7, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 221-222) — 9:00 a.m. BST: Alex flies home to DC and lands around 9:10 a.m. EST for DNC prep.

The Richards campaign leaks they’ve tapped an independant.

*July 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 222) — Claremont campaign releases the official platform.

*July 11, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 221-222) — Richards holds a rally at Vanderbilt University. 

**July 14, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 223-224) — The gang flies to NYC on the evening of the second day of the DNC.

9:00 p.m.: The Richards campaign announces that the Independent senator joining Richards’s cabinet is Rafael Luna.

9:15 p.m.: Air Force One lands and the White House crew goes into crisis management meetings. Alex texts Luna “What the fuck”

11:00 p.m.: Luna responds “I don’t expect you to understand”.

*July 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 224-234) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex and June leave meetings and get harassed by a Post reporter. June goes to bed, and Alex goes to the bar where he meets Henry. They retire to Alex’s room.

6:45 a.m.: Zahra wakes Alex (and Henry) up, and discovers their relationship.

July 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 235-239) — 1:00 p.m.: Alex comes out to his mother.

2:00 p.m. — Ellen gives a PowerPoint presentation, then makes Alex do paperwork and kicks him off the campaign.

**Aug. 10, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 239-247) 1:04 a.m.-8:22 p.m. EST — Henry and Alex exchange emails about the complex nature of their relationship, and Alex extends an invite to the lake house.

*Aug. 22, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 247-257) — Day one of the lake house. The Trio arrive earlier, possibly on Friday. Early morning: They gas up the car before taking it to the hangar to pick up Henry in Austin. 1.5 hours — The drive to the lake. They arrive, Oscar welcomes everyone. Alex barbecues ribs. They spend the evening after dinner singing and playing guitar. Alex and Henry sleep in separate bunks

*Aug. 23, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 257-264) — Day two of the lake house. Alex makes breakfast. In the afternoon, Henry talks to Oscar about boats and outboard motors. They swim. That night, Henry and Alex go skinny dipping

*Aug. 24, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 264-265) — Alex wakes up to find that Henry has left.

*Aug. 25, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 266, 267) —  Alex sends five texts to Henry. He also paces on the roof of the residence and wrecks his heels.

*Aug. 26, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 266) — Alex sends two texts to Henry.

*Aug. 27, 2020 (Thu.) (p. 266) — Alex sends no texts to Henry.

*Aug. 28, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 266) — Alex trains himself to check his phone after two hours instead of one.

Sometime between Aug. 25-28 (Tue.-Fri.) (p. 267) — Alex’s Claremont for America mug is smashed in the sink. 2.5 different dreams of Henry’s hair. An email is drafted and deleted.

*Aug. 29, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 267) — Luna makes his fifth campaign stop for Richards. Alex breaks his phone screen and it is replaced by the end of the day.

*Aug. 31, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 267-276) —  Alex finds the note Henry left in the pocket of his kimono and smashes his phone.

5:45 a.m. EST/10 a.m. BST: Alex buys first class nonstop tickets for him and Cash and sends Cash a text.

7:45 a.m./12:45 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight begins boarding

8:00 a.m./1:00 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight leaves Dulles for London. Alex calls Zahra on the runways and asks her to call them a car in London

3:15 p.m./8:15 p.m.: The plane lands and they leave for Kensington

4:00 p.m./9:00 p.m.: They arrive in Kensington.

*Sep. 1, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 276-284) — Henry goes for a run. Philip eats plain toast. They have a conversation in the kitchen. Alex wakes up alone. Henry brings Alex coffee. They spend the day together.

**Sep. 2, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 284-293) — 2:00 a.m.: Henry and Alex sneak out and explore the V&A.

5:00 a.m. EST/10:00 a.m. BST: Alex and Cash’s plane departs from Heathrow to Dulles.

3:00 p.m. EST/8:00 p.m. BST: Alex arrives back home.

5:12 p.m. EST: Alex emails Henry to say he arrived back home

**Sep. 3, 2020 (Th.) (p. 294-297) — 2:49 a.m. EST: Henry replies, mentions he’s considering coming out to Philip and he may have to enlist.

6:20 a.m. EST: Alex responds, worried that Henry might have to enlist. He is supportive of Henry coming out.

**Sep. 4, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 297-304) — 7:58 p.m. EST: Henry says he came out to Philip and talks about putting memories into rooms.

8:31 p.m. EST: Alex responds and sends Henry an incomplete list.

Sep. 14, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 305-310) — Zahra shows up with a diamond ring at the breakfast weekly brief. Footage of Henry and Alex at the DNC is leaked. June posts a photo of her and Henry on instagram and it spreads within hours. 

Alex takes Nora on a fake date as Henry flies to DC. Henry lands in the middle of the night.

Sep. 15, 2020 (Tue.) (310-313) — June lets Alex into her SUV in the morning on the way to her fake date with Henry. After an hour at the cafe, Henry and Alex meet in the SUV and kiss. They don’t notice when someone takes pictures

*Sep. 24, 2020 (Th.) (p. 314-318) — Alex meets with Luna and comes out to him. He returns to the residence, attempts to call Henry, and then gets drunk.

**Sep. 25, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 319-321) — 3:21 a.m. EST/8:21 a.m. BST: Alex sends a drunk email.

6:07 a.m./11:07 a.m.: Henry replies.

**Sep. 27, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 321-344) — Email Leak Day 

3 a.m. EST/8 a.m. BST: News breaks.

3:23 a.m./8:23 a.m. Zahra wakes Alex up and puts him on communications lockdown. Alex meets with his mom.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: Philip arrives at Kensington

8:00 a.m./3:00 p.m.: Alex gets out of meetings, starts napping

1:00 p.m./6:00 p.m.: Zahra tells Alex to pack a bag

7:00 p.m./12:00: They arrive at Kensington

11:00 p.m./4:00 a.m.: Alex finally climbs into bed next to Henry.

*Sep. 28, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 344-358) — Philip shows up at Kensington, hair uncombed and suit askew. Philip yells at them in the kitchen about breaking the communication embargo. Henry leaves, and Alex follows and leaves Philip red in the kitchen.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: They meet with the queen.

Alex takes a photo of a mural and posts it on Twitter on his way to the airplane

**Sep. 29, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 358-367) —  9:15 p.m. Jezebel tweets about DC Dykes on Bikes chasing Westboro Baptist protesters down Pennsylvania Ave.

Alex gets back to DC. Nora comes busting in with proof.

*Sep. 30, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 367-370) — The White House leaks proof of the Richarads campaign stalking, surveilling, hacking, and outing Alex. Rafael Luna announces on twitter he has left the campaign. The podcast Bills, Bills, Bills, records an episode about it.

**Oct. 2, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 370-383) — In the morning, Alex gives his speech, which June wrote. Henry is there to support him. They make out for like 45-55 minutes before the speech. Jeffrey Richards goes on CNN. Alex sees Luna in his office. Luna tells Alex about his past with Richards.

*Oct. 3, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 375) —  A crowd at the Mall. Cash, Amy, and Amy’s wife are there.

*Oct. 4, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 383-385, 409) — 7:32 a.m.: The boys wake up. 

9:30 a.m.: Henry leaves back to England.

Alex goes back to the campaign trail. Liam calls.

*Oct. 4-10, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 389) — The crown makes decisions about what to do about the emails: re Bea's addiction reveal, and Henry enlisting.

Sometime between Oct. 11-17, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 391) — Philip has a falling out with the queen and apologizes to Henry and Bea.

Sometime between Oct. 25-31, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 386-392) — The photoshoot in Hyde park.

*Nov. 2, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 393-399) — Day before election day. Alex struggles to pick a tie. June gets a book deal. The Trio falls asleep in the bed together.

**Nov. 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 400-418) —  Election day

Alex votes.

6:00 p.m.: The Trio arrives at the election night event.

6:37 p.m. Henry texts Alex about plane troubles.

7:32 p.m.: Oliver Westbrook from Bills, Bills, Bills tweets about GOPers backing Richards even after everything that’s happened.

8:04 p.m.: 538 politics tweets that they’re confused about Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin being too close to call.

9:15 p.m.: NYT tweets that Claremont is at 178 and Richards is at 113

9:30 p.m.: Ellen worries about losing and asks June to write a concession speech. June refuses. Alex makes a speech. Henry finally arrives.

10:30 p.m.: Richards takes Iowa, Utah, and Montana. Claremont gets California’s 55 electoral votes.

12:00 a.m.: Claremont has the lead. Alex runs into Liam. Florida and Nevada go red.

12:30 a.m.: Texas goes blue.

1:00 a.m.: Alex unlocks the door with the key around his neck.

#rwrb #rwarb #rwrb spoilers #rwrb timeline #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #this is exactly 5k #meta #i guess #long post

[angst-fairygodmother]

Since you do Umbrella Academy now, can you do one where you visit Klaus in jail/the hospital/rehab and have to say your his spouse/partner in order to get in even though you're not actually together, but you wish you were so it stings?

A/N: Fake dating? I like the way you think ;) Word Count: 3255 Rating: M - references to drugs and rehab, swearing, self-depreciation

‘Guess who got thrown back in rehab’ calls were a not uncommon part of your friendship with Klaus Hargreeves, made as a courtesy so you’d know he wasn’t dead when he missed your weekly breakfasts. It would happen every couple of months when, in his impaired state, he pissed off a cop, or when he decided that the beds there were easier than trying to find one elsewhere (no matter how many times you offered for him to just move in with you he’d remained stubbornly against ‘becoming your burden’). He’d do the required time, get his sobriety token, and be right back where he started.

What was unusual was that this was not one of those calls, because you had already gotten one a few days ago and there was no way he would have been discharged, and for all the crap he pulled, he was smart enough not to get kicked out for misbehavior.

“Heeey Y/N!” his voice echoed, tinny and distorted, over your answering machine. “This place is swanky.” You tolled your eyes at his exaggerated tone. “They give us phone privileges and free time to do crossword puzzles or whatever ex-addicts do. Anyway, I’m very lonely and very bored and I miss you. You should come see me. Guests can come whenever, how weird is that? But they also do a big ‘family dinner’ on Sundays if you’d like to be part of something terrible. Love you! Come visit!”

You could hear the manic grin on his face as the message cut off with a slam. He didn’t mean anything by the words, he never did, but still they made your heart skip a beat. Anyone with half an ounce of common sense would know better to fall for their best friend, especially when he was a hopeless drug addict with, understandably, no desire to change his ways. And you knew that. Yet here you were, already mentally rearranging your schedule to let you go see him sooner rather than later, thoughts half-consumed by the idea that his gorgeous green eyes might have a special spark for you, shining on your account.

~

You shifted uncomfortably behind the woman at the reception desk ahead of you, fretting at the slightly frayed edge of your shirtsleeve, waiting for your turn to speak to the dour-looking man.

“Next!” he called gesturing for you to approach as the woman moved aside to sign in on a clipboard.

“Um, hi,” you said awkwardly, pressing your lips together. “My name is Y/N. I’m here to see Klaus…Klaus Hargreeves? He called me and asked me to come and visit, but I wasn’t home so he left it as a message and I don’t know if there are any other permissions I need or anything I was supposed to do first, he just said to come by…” you put on your most apologetic look.

He barely looked up from whatever he was doing at the desk behind the counter.

“Are you family?” you weren’t sure whether boredom or annoyance was the stronger emotion in his tone, only that it somehow carried both. “The first two weeks are limited to one designated visitor and they have to be family.”

“Oh…I…”

Your mind raced. Klaus’s message had sounded like he really wanted you there, and you were one of the few people who could say they put up with him long-term. His family were never there for him and basically saw him as a hopeless failure, so if they were the only company he was allowed to have then he would be spending his time completely alone, and probably disappointed that you didn’t stop by.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“I’m his fiancé,” you blurted out before the thought could fully process.

“Fiancé?” he echoed incredulously. “Hargreeves didn’t mention a fiancé.”

“…our…families don’t like us much, so we keep the engagement secret. I mean his family doesn’t like me and mine…think…well…”

“That he’s a waste of space and you could do much better?”

“Excuse me?” you bristled at the way he sounded like he was stating the obvious.

“He’s here because he decided to mix a truly stupid amount of cocaine and ecstasy. I’m sure he’s every parent’s dream match for their child.” He rolled his eyes. “Wait here.”

He slapped a cardboard sign onto the counter that read “Please Wait, Someone Will Return Shortly” and walked briskly off down the narrow corridor.

The minutes seems to drag on like years as you waited, sure that your half-cocked story would be blown out of the water and you would be banned from the facility, maybe even escorted out by burly, terrifying security guards. You chewed anxiously on your lip, rubbing the skin of it raw.

Then, the man was back, sitting at his desk with a sigh.

“Sign this waiver.” He gestured at you vaguely with a clipboard.

You skimmed the document, noting that it mostly contained affirmations that you were not smuggling drugs, weapons, or other contraband to the patients in the facility or from them to other people, and signed it quickly, nearly throwing it in your haste to return it and get to Klaus before anyone caught on.

“Room 31, on the left. Visiting hours are over at 4pm. This isn’t the honeymoon suite at the Ritz, and Steve gets very angry when he makes his rounds and catches anything hinky.” The man waved you down the hall and you felt your face burn in embarrassment as you scurried away from him.

You stopped in front of the indicated door and hesitated, unsure whether you should knock or just walk in. The decision was made for you seconds later when the door flew open and a skinny blonde woman stumbled out, nearly crashing into you and staggering down the hall with a slurred and mumbled apology. You turned to watch her go, puzzling over how someone in rehab could seem so utterly sloshed and jumped when you heard someone cheerfully call your name. Turning back to the still open door, you spotted Klaus dangling upside down from the top bunk of the set of beds in the little grey room.

“Well don’t just stand there, get in here and give your fiancé a hug!” he laughed, arms outstretched.

A soft smile on your face, you walked over to him, closing the door as you passed. His arms wrapped around you, face pressed to your torso and soft curls tickling you. You tried not to blush as you returned the oddly positioned hug. After a moment, you both let go and he nimbly swung himself upright before dropping over the rail to stand beside you.

Gesturing dramatically to the man sleeping on the bottom bunk, very naked body only barely covered by a sheet, he shouted, “Y/N, this is my roommate Brady. Brady, my future spouse. Brady here has just gotten done having some amazing sex and will be out completely cold for the next several hours, don’t mind him.”

“Why are you shouting?” you asked, giving him a puzzled expression.

“What?!” you rolled your eyes as he rubbed at his ear and it became clear that he was, as usual, exaggerating. “Well as I just mentioned, Brady decided to hook up with one of the girls from the klepto hall, but decided to bring her here even though I was already occupying the room, and the two of them needed a truly heroic volume to drown them out. Frankly, it’s a damn shame we were warned against this visit having a conjugal nature, or I’d invite you to help me return the favor.”

He winked at you and you flushed cheeks hot with embarrassment and the knowledge of how easily you would have agreed to such a suggestion.

“Is there somewhere we can actually sit to hang out, or do we have to cram into the eighteen inches between your mattress and the ceiling?” you asked, looking more thoroughly around the room which held little more than the bunks, two sets of clear plastic drawers, and a wire shelf which held towels and toiletries not unlike what would be found in the bathroom of a cheap motel.

He held up a finger, indicating for you to wait, or possibly that he liked your idea, you weren’t sure which, and scrambled back up the ladder to his bed. A moment later he had stripped it down to the mattress and used the bedding (a sheet, a pillow, and a thin, scratchy blanket) to arrange a makeshift seating area in the corner.

He gestured to the pillow as if it were a grand throne. “For you.”

You sat, squirming a bit to get comfortable, and leaned back against the cool brick. As soon as you settled, he attempted to flop down beside you, long, leather-clad legs draped over your lap, and smacked his head against the wall in the process.

“You know Klaus, head trauma is probably not the best way to score an early release,” you teased.

He rubbed his head, wincing dramatically.

“I’m not trying to get out this time,” he said after a moment. “I’m really going to do it, follow the steps and get clean.”

You raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“I mean it. I don’t want to leave and get high again right away. I’ll…see someone or whatever about the ghost thing.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my Klaus?”

A strange expression crept over his face when you called him before his stubborn pout quickly returned.

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching out impulsively to take his free hand in both of yours. “I’ve always believed you can do whatever you set your mind to, and I’ll be here for you no matter what. But can I ask just one question?”

“Well sure, anything.”

“Why now? What’s different this time that you want to do this?”

“Technically that’s two questions.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And you’re deflecting.”

He shrugged sheepishly. “There’s…someone. They mean the world to me. And as Ben pointed out, no one wants an addict around, not long term. We just waste space and cause frustration. So I have to change if I want to be worth their time.”

“Woah, hey. Back up. You are more than your addiction. I am happy for you that you want to get clean, but you shouldn’t do it for someone else. For one thing, if they care about you, they’ll learn to accept that part of you and support you through it. Until and unless it’s the right time for you to get clean for you. Otherwise, you’ll end up hurting yourself, and probably self-sabotage, and it’s going to be worse in the long run. Or they’ll be your only reason to stay clean and if you lose them…”

“I…” he stared at you in silence, at a loss for words for possibly the first time in all the years you had known him.

“They make me want to be better though. They deserve better than the gutter trash, the absolute garbage, I’ve become.”

“Stop putting yourself down like that,” you growled in frustration. “It’s not helping and more importantly, it’s not true. You are funny and kind and give the best damn hugs in the entire world, even when with anyone else they’d be hella awkward. And that is worth something. Someone doesn’t see that, then you’re the one that deserves better.”

“Well…I’ve never exactly talked to them about it before, but I get the feeling they only see the best in me, somehow, and I want to be that version, their version…”

You sigh and nod. “Like I said, I’m here for you, no matter what. And I’m proud of you for wanting to make a serious try at sobriety, I hope that’s clear. I just…don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know. I love that about you, Y/N. You’re always looking out for me.”

He smiled softly at you, shifting to rest his head on your shoulder, making it so that he was practically sitting in your lap.

“So, do I know this mystery person?” You asked, returning his smile and absently running one of your thumbs across his knuckles. “Because if not, I insist on meeting them soon and assessing for myself whether they’re good enough for my best friend.”

Your voice felt forced, strangled by the lump in your throat at the thought. You cared enough about him to want him to be happy, but it still stung in the little, jealous part of your brain that he couldn’t open his eyes and really see you, find that happiness with you.

He was silent for long enough that you wondered if he had fallen asleep on you. But when you turned to check, you found his bright green eyes staring up at you in awe and adoration. You bit your lip as you met his gaze, his focus briefly drawn downward to it before returning to the rest of you.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, breath tickling the side of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. “And so fucking clueless.”

You shoved him playfully to hide the way your heart raced as it dawned on you that he returned your feelings just as strongly, but he was not deterred in the slightest. He turned to lean over you, a charming smirk plastered on his beautiful face, bracing himself with one hand pressed to the wall beside your head and the other still caught between your own.

“Do you have any idea how badly I want to kiss you right now, Y/N?”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes coyly. “What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?”

His lips dropped to yours in an instant, a growl of desire escaping in the last seconds before you connected. Your hands slipped over his shoulders, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck, and his newly freed one rose to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His tongue ran along your bottom lip before he nipped at it playfully and you parted for him, sighing happily into the kiss. Your tongues danced together, exploring, teasing tasting. His fingers tangled into your hair, and one of your hands curled to grip his shoulder, nails dragging against his shirt. You couldn’t think straight, hazily aware of the need for oxygen, but not caring, not when you had him, like this, finally.

Reluctantly he pulled away, laughing as you leaned forward, chasing his retreating lips, and the two of you gasped and panted for air.

“That was even more amazing than I could have dreamed of,” he sighed dazedly. “And believe me, I’ve dreamed of doing that a lot. And…more than that.” He waggled his eyebrows at you.

You laughed, shaking your head in mock annoyance at him and he pouted.

“Why haven’t you ever said anything before?” you asked. “We could have been doing that for ages.”

“Ages? I like the sound of that. Let’s start now.”

He straddled your waist and leaned in, your second kiss just as hungry as the first, but much shorter as you pulled back.

“You’re deflecting again.”

“I had hoped that ravishing you would be enough of a distraction you wouldn’t notice.”

“You should know me better than that,” you teased. “Just answer the question and we can return to the ‘ravishing’ sooner.”

“Is that a promise?” his brows arched flirtatiously and you rolled your eyes.

“Because, fundamentally, I am a coward,” he sighed. “I know you can do better and I’ve never done anything in my life to deserve someone even half as incredible as you and I was too scared to risk losing the one good thing in my life.”

“Oh Klaus,” you tilted your head to one side and looked at him a little sadly. “You could never lose me, no matter what.”

He smiled, hopeful and tender.

“And if we’re going to be together, you can bet your ass we’re going to work on that dreadful lack of self-esteem.”

“Later.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Right now, we’re doing the fun stuff.”

Grinning, you leaned forward to kiss him again, and you both jumped at the sudden, pounding knock on the door.

“Your visiting time is up,” a voice called, drill-sergeant loud even through the wood. “You have ten minutes to clear out before I throw you out.”

Klaus sighed.

“To be continued I guess,” you said, and this time it was your turn to pout, but he remained in his spot, seated over you.

“I’m not quire done with you,” he countered, voice low and seductive, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw. “And I can get a lot done in ten minutes.”

You felt him smirk against your skin as your pulse fluttered at the suggestion in his tone. Practically melting under his touch, you let him shift you so that you were more stretched beneath him, head tilted back to still rest on the wall and chest thrust slightly upward, opening up access to a wide swath of skin. His teeth trailed lightly down the column of your throat until he reached the point where it met your shoulder and bit down. The sound you made was somewhere between a yelp and a moan, and he chuckled, filing the sound away and resolving to try and draw it out of your again in future contexts.

He continued to lavish attention on the spot, alternating soft bites and suckling with soothing his tongue on the mark, while you ran your fingers through his curls, nails scratching against his scalp in a way that drew purring groans from his lips.

“By the way, you know,” he murmured, tracing kisses back up to the spot beneath your ear and from there along your jaw. “I’m all for getting married, but don’t you think you should at least buy me dinner first?”

“What?” you frowned, the cover story you had used to get in completely forgotten in the wake of all that had happened.

“I’ve never even been in a long-term relationship, so imagine my surprise when I was informed this afternoon that my fiancé was here to see me.”

“Oh. That. I, uh…I panicked. The receptionist said family only and that was the first thing I thought of.”

“The first thing you could think of was promising to marry me?”

“Oh shut up. He bought it, and you didn’t challenge it or he wouldn’t have let me in.”

“And boy am I glad I did.” He paused, drawing back to look down at you, eyes tracing your face as if memorizing every pore. “But I don’t mind it. I like the sound of it, the idea is quite nice actually…”

You could tell he was just speaking his thoughts as they came to him. Still it made your heart skip a beat and your face flush at how quick he was to leap to the idea of the two of you getting married for real, and how completely okay, more than okay, you were with it too.

“Slow down there Klaus,” you cautioned, placing one hand on his chest to rest over his heart. “Let’s stick to pretend, for now, and maybe we can discuss the real thing once you get out of here…”

He grinned, standing and pulling you to your feet before wrapping you in his arms in a hug that you never wanted to end.

“Deal.”

#The Umbrella Academy #TUA #The Umbrella Academy fic #Klaus Hargreeves #Klaus Hargreeves x reader #reader insert #fake dating is such a fun trope #fake engaged is even better #This is probably pre-canon but also that creates the unfortunate likelihood that there is no happy ending so lets just not think about it

[uraniaswrld]

answering witchy questions

(from @theclosetedwitch​)

1. What type of witch are you? - i hate the whole trendy “witch types” thing, but i work with both high and low magick and i work with the Fair Folk and deities and a lot of herbalism.

2. Do you  believe it is wrong to hex? - very little is inherently wrong or right. you need context to decide if it’s moral or not. i don’t do hexes for no reason and i don’t initiate conflict, however if someone has fucked with my friends at all or tried to magickly harm me, you bet your ass that i’m gonna return-to-sender that bitch at the very least. TL;DR i believe in revenge as long as it’s proportionate :)

3. Have you ever hexed anyone? - depends on what you consider a hex. i’ve certainly cast return to sender spells and tripwire spells, but i’ve never done baneful work to someone without them doing something to me first.

4. Which deities do you worship, if any? - i’m a devotee of Aphrodite, and i follow Rhiannon and Morpheus as well. i used to follow Apollo also but the time in my life that he was present for has ended. i work with a few other deities very casually on and off, but those three are the ones i’m worshipping right now.

5. What got you into witchcraft? - the pastor at a church i had to go to was doing a slideshow on “bad religions” and he pointed to a pentacle and said “this is a pentagram, a symbol used by wiccans. and you know what the call themselves? witches. and wizards. or warlocks, actually. witches and warlocks.” obviously, he didn’t know much about wicca or witchcraft but the sheer fact that there were people calling themselves “witches” was enough to pique my interest and i started my research. 

basically a christian pastor turned me pagan.

6. What is your favorite moon phase? - i love any time when i can see the moon, but i’m connected to the waning moon for Rhiannon, and the full moon because, idk, it’s pretty? i’m a dyke? unknown.

7.What is your favorite season? - beltane or samhain season

8.Which pagan celebration do you like most? - beltane for me is super happy and rich and beautiful, samhain is the time of year when i’m most connected to my craft, and imbolc season sucks ass but the rituals are really nice.

9.Are you in the broom closet? - to my family, somewhat. i talk about astrology to fuck with them because they’re christians, but i don’t talk about witchcraft or paganism because i’d surely get kicked out or at least punished super heavily.

10. What is your favorite herb to work with? - i’m gonna interpret this as favourite herb/spice, so nutmeg, cloves, juniper berries and chamomile

11. What are your favorite crystals, and why? - to be honest, most crystals i just use for the colour correspondances. i’m not super connected to most crystals but i do love black tourmaline for protection, and then i have some specific crystals that have a lot of meaning for me, like an amethyst point i got from a coven sister for my first imbolc, or a half of a geode that i share with my best friend, or my obsidian worrystone that shows up when i need it.

12. Have you ever had a spell backfire? - i’ve had spells not work, but outright backfire i don’t think so.

13. Do you work skyclad? - no, because of *body image issues* and also i’m cold all the time

14. Are you in a coven? - yes! it’s pretty casual and informal, and there’s not hp/ hps so it’s more of a working group, but coven sounds way better. our coven blog is @circleofpyxis​ and our instagram is circleofpyxiscoven

15. Do you believe in good and evil? - in individuals, yes. i know that there are inherently evil people. i don’t think that there are any inherently good people, and i think we’re all born neutral, but our actions define where we lie as far as morality. 

16.What is the most successful spell you have ever performed? - either a very stupid surface-y spell to get a part i wanted in a play, or a spell to get rid of unwanted romantic feelings.

17. Do you do any divination? - yes!

18. If you do do divination, what kind? - i read futhark runes, dabble in tarot, and scry using fire or water

19. Do you read tarot? - a little

20. If you do, what is your favorite card? - i can’t remember them all off the top of my head but i love the hierophant in my deck

21. Have you ever had any dreams that came true? - i don’t have prophetic dreams, but i have a different sort of brand of metaphysical dream. i’m not sure how to describe it, but i think it’s my spirit guide just watching out for me. for example, i once needed to wake up at 6:30 but forgot to set an alarm, and i had this experience-- it must’ve been a dream-- but it felt like i was awake but my eyes were still closed, and then i heard my mom’s voice saying “it��s time to wake up, you have to go to your meeting” and i opened my eyes (in the dream) and saw my mom. then i woke up for real and no one was there, but the clock read 6:30 exactly.

another time i had a dream where my dad told me that distrokid had updated and i could see how much money i’d made, and then i woke up and distrokid really had updated, which only happens every month at most.

22. Are you in a religion? - i’m still trying to figure out exactly my denomination, but i’m a pagan of celtic and hellenic traditions.

23. Which do you like better: new moon or full moon? - i adore all of the new moon goddesses but i’m sorry, the full moon has my heart.

24. What was the first spell you have ever performed? - it was this really little simple spell for happiness. it was really just an incantation actually, i didn’t use any tools or anything, but it worked so i’m not complaining.

25.Do you believe it is wrong to cast love spells? - if you don’t have the consent of the other individual(s) then yes. otherwise, if you’re just attracting “a good match” or self-love, there’s nothing wrong with that.

26.Have you ever cast a love spell? - self love spells and romance-banishing spells yes.

27. What is your favorite magickal tool? - my peach wood wand that i made myself!

28. Do you like to work during the witching hour (3am ) ? - i do 90% of my workings at midnight or later, so yeah :)

29. Are you a hereditary witch? - nope, it’s just me and my suspiciously-invested-in-crystals-and-astrology sister ;)

30.Do you believe it is possible to be born  witch? - you can be born into a family of witches but it’s not like some people are born witches and no one else can practice. everyone has magick, everyone has power. some people have different intuitive strengths, but everyone has strengths.

31. Do you believe initiation is essential to be a witch? - no. in some religious traditions you need to be initiated (like wicca), but witchcraft is for everyone.

32. Do you have a  familiar? - no

33.What is your spirit animal? - i’m not indigenous so i don’t have one.

34. Which deity or god are you closest to? - my patroness is Aphrodite

35. Thoughts on reincarnation? - i believe in reincarnation but i also want to die and have it be over so it’s complicated jdfhjhfd

36. Current altar setup? - my mabon altar is still up since it’s still technically mabon season but i’m putting up my samhain altar tonight. i also have shrines to Aphrodite and Morpheus on my altar year-round.

37. Feelings and thoughts on Wicca? - i don’t practice, and there are a lot of issues with gardner, but there are issues with people in every religion. i don’t see a problem with wicca or wiccans, it just isn’t my religion.

38. What is your favorite element to work with? - water

39. Do you have a book of shadows? - i have both a BoS and a grimoire

40. Have you ever tried reading runes? - yes! that’s my best method of divination.

41. If so, what is your favorite rune, and why? - THIS IS SO HARD! i have a few. eiwaz, peorth, and ehwaz are some of my faves.

42. Do you believe in casting circles before every spell? - no, i do it for my rituals and sabbat workings, but at least for my practice, with the frequency that i do workings, i simply don’t have time to cast before spells.

43. If so, how do you cast your circles? - i might do a post on this later, but i close/ cast the circle deosil and then open it at the end of a ritual widdershins.

44. Ever tried knot magick? - yes! i use knot magick for a protection anklet i always wear.

45. Have you ever participated in, or watched the Great Rite (ritual sex)? - no. i’m underage and not interested in sex magick anyway. 

46. What is your favorite color to work with, in magick? - red and black

46. Which deities do you have altars for? - Aphrodite and Rhiannon.

47. What is your favorite setting which you prefer to practice in? - i only do rituals after dark and i like practicing solitary but i also love practicing with my friends/ covenmates.

48. Do you know how to read palms? - no

49. If so, have you ever read palms, either yourself or others? - no

50. Are you more connected with the masculine, or the feminine? - feminine, but i try to work with a balance

51. Favorite day of the week to practice in? do you even care? - friday but not for any metaphysical reason, just because i’m least stressed then and have the most time.

52. How long have you been practicing? - over two years

53. Which  witchy traditions do you observe? - i celebrate the wheel of the year sabbats, and the esbats, and Rhiannon’s day on march 1st

54. Favorite planet to work with? - Venus

55. Favorite direction  ( est, west, north, south) to work with? - west

56. Favorite number to work with * numerology *? - 64 and 11

57. Do you have a magick wand, and if so, what is it made of? - yes, it’s made from peach wood.

58. Do you prefer the sun or the moon? - moon

59. Pointy hat or no pointy hat? - absoLUTELY pointy hat

60. What is it that you LOVE about witchcraft - i love my deities and i love how comforting my craft is when i feel alone

#witch #witchy #witchcraft #witchery #pagan #paganism #pagan tag #witch tag #witchy questions #pagan questions #q and a #introducing myself #occult #esoteric #belief #religion #spiritual #spirituality #religious

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

First Chance at a Family

Day 2 of 2020′s 31 Days of Ficmas.  Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for the list!

Prompt: ginger/gingerbread

Rating: T

Pairing: 9xRose AU; mini-sequel to Second Chance at Forever

Summary: Rose & John’s journey to parenthood, told in 4 parts.  Warnings for: morning sickness, pregnancy, etc

2020 31 Days of Ficmas masterlist  |  Second Chance at Forever

AO3

---

“Ugh.”  Wiping at her mouth Rose leaned back, closing the toilet lid and reaching for the flush.  Tilting over onto her side, she rested her heated face against the soothingly cold bathroom floor, feeling like death warmed over.  “This is the third morning in a row, and I’m starting to think it’s not the New Year’s hangover,” she mumbled into the tiles.  “I’m not ready to go there.”

Her one comfort was that John was surely already at work, blissfully unaware of the physical and mental turbulence occurring in her stomach.  No need to worry him before she had to.

“If I still don’t feel well tomorrow, I’ll go see a doctor,” she bartered with her stomach, hand hovering over it for a moment before clenching her fist and lowering it to the ground.  That, she felt, would be a tacit acknowledgement of the increasingly-likely scenario, and she wasn’t ready to face that yet.  “And if not, definitely the day after.”

She lay there for a few more minutes, eventually determining it was safe to resume her day.  Moving gingerly, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, pulling her dressing gown tightly around her as she shuffled towards the kitchen-

And froze, shocked to see her husband sitting at the table sipping from a mug and writing on a piece of paper.

“Morning,” he said flatly, not looking up.  “That’s for you.”  His head tilted in the direction of a steaming mug across from him, and she sank into the seat without taking her eyes off him.

Lifting the mug to her lips, she found ginger tea, her stomach clenching at the implication.

“I thought you had office hours this morning,” she broke the silence once she’d drunk half of it. “Why…”

“My wife is sick, I wanted to be here if she needed me.  However, I didn’t want to intrude if she wasn’t ready to tell me what’s going on?”

And just like that, she knew- that her fears were correct, and worse, John had clearly figured it out first.  Shit. In the back of her mind she knew this was a good thing, she should be happy about it, but we’ve only been married a year, it’s too soon!

She let out a sigh. “Technically, I don’t know what’s going on.  I just have… growing suspicions.”  Peeking up at him, she met his eye, his expression softening.

“I see.”  Setting down his pen John removed his glasses, rubbing at his face for a moment before rising, coming around the corner of the table to kneel beside her.  “I realized yesterday, and… it’s more than a suspicion.”

“That’s what I get for marrying a doctor,” she joked weakly, rubbing her thumb along his jawline.  “I wasn’t… keeping it from you, I just… hadn’t faced it yet myself.”

Leaning up, he pressed a kiss to her cheek.  “Okay. I’ve already called us both off, so why don’t we lie down for a cuddle, and not talk about it?”

“Okay,” she agreed, heart filling with love for such a wonderful, understanding partner.  “I’m gonna finish this tea, first, though.”

“Absolutely.”  John stood, resting his hand on her back and offering her a small smile.  “The ginger will help with the nausea.  So will a nap.”

Deciding to bring the mug to the bedroom with her, she let him guide her into bed, curling up in his arms with her head on his chest and his hands on her belly.

-

Seven nausea-filled days later found them sitting in an exam room, Rose aggressively chewing on a piece of ginger candy as she sat on the table looking around.  John was seated on the guest chair, seemingly enthralled with a pamphlet, though his bouncing leg gave evidence to his own anxiety.

“Oi.”

He looked up, blinking. “Yeah?”

“Why ginger?”

“What d’you mean?”

She gestured with the bag of candy in her hand.  “Why does this supposedly help?”  With every minute they had to wait she was growing more nervous, and nothing distracted her the way her husband could when he fell into ‘professor mode’.

John immediately abandoned the pamphlet on the countertop, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees.  “Well, first, it’s a traditional remedy dating back thousands of years, mostly in India and Southeast Asia, where it grows naturally.  It’s fairly interesting actually – it helps with a number of ailments, and isn’t limited to the digestive tract.  Current thought is that it’s an anti-inflammatory and anti-oxidant, and can cure sickness from motion and chemotherapy, not just-” he paused to wave at her, but was prevented from continuing by a rap on the door followed by it opening.

“Good morning,” the doctor said brusquely, stepping in.  “Noble?”

“Yes,” they chorused, Rose adding, “I’m Rose, this is John.”

The doctor nodded, consulting the iPad in his hand.  “Great, I’m Doctor MacMartin.  So, I have your test results.”  He sat on the stool, setting down the tablet and looking at her for the first time. “You’re pregnant.”

Despite having spent the last week coming to terms with the idea, the confirmation knocked the breath from Rose’s lungs.  Pregnant. A baby.  She looked to John, who was silent, eyes wide and surprised but pleased, with a silly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  In response her own twitched, and suddenly they were beaming at each other, tears pricking at her eyes.

A baby.  A family.

And just like at the end of The Grinch, her heart expanded.

-

“I have literally never hated you more than I do at this moment.”

John, the bastard, had the gall to smirk, not pausing as he tucked her in.  “It’s just for two weeks,” he said cheerfully.  “Then our bundle of joy will be here, and you won’t want to get out of bed.  You should rest while you can.”

She huffed in response, folding her arms across her enormous belly.  At thirty-seven weeks she’d been placed on bed rest as a precaution, and two hours into it, she was already going mad.  John was fussing over her like a mother hen, and she already knew it would be worse when word spread and Donna and Jackie showed up to ‘help’. She was tired, and sore, and she hadn’t seen her feet in months, constant heartburn, and the most galling bit- “Why do you lie?”

“About what?”  Kicking his shoes off he settled himself next to her hip, one hand naturally settling to the bump and stroking, doing little to calm the rolling child within.

“‘Morning sickness’. More like ‘all day sickness’.  And why do you say it’s only during the first trimester?  Why am I still nauseous?  I mean, I know I haven’t actually been sick, but honestly, I don’t mind that so much- at least after I feel better, if only for a few minutes.  But there’s no relief!”

He clucked his tongue sympathetically, hand moving to caress her knee.  “I know it sucks, and you’ve had it rough.  But you’re doing brilliantly, really, and I’m so proud of you. You’re already such a great mum.” Leaning forward, he nabbed a ginger candy from the nightstand and handed it to her.  “Not much longer.”

“And to think, people say this is the easy part,” she muttered petulantly, unwrapping the candy and popping it in her mouth.  “I just wanna meet them.”  They’d decided, after weeks of squabbling, not to find out what they were having- the deciding factor had been when Pete had let slip Jackie’s plans for a gender reveal party, and Rose had put her foot down out of principle.

John was silent for a long minute, waiting out her sighing and grumbling until she settled.  “I know.  Me too.  But for now, can I tempt you with a movie instead?”

“Don’t you have to go to work?”  Even as she said the words she reached for her mobile, pulling up Netflix to broadcast it to the telly he’d set up.

“Nah,” he said easily, moving to sit next to her, close enough they were touching from hip to thigh. “And, I had one in mind.”  Nabbing her mobile, he held it out of her reach, typing one-handed.

Moments later the telly flicked on, Netflix opening on the movie credits, and she gasped.  “Top Hat!  My favorite.”

“I know,” John said smugly, dropping the mobile on the bed in favor of taking her hand.  “I know you and your Mum have Cliff Richards movies, and I want us to have something similar with little Florence.”

“Not happening,” she didn’t glance at him.  “Ginger and Fred- yes.  Florence?  No. We’re not having a grandmother.” The baby kicked then, and she smiled down fondly at her stomach.  “Isn’t that right, little one?  Daddy’s just being silly, you’ll see, Earl.”

Her husband scoffed. “Is that a pun?  We are not name our child Earl Noble, Rose Tyler- talk about setting him up for failure!”

“Shush.  The movie’s starting.”

Grinning, they turned back to the show- neglecting the dancing on screen to focus instead on the movement of her belly, the child within dancing to the music far more interesting.

Two more weeks!

-

Fighting back a yawn, John made his way down the corridor to the waiting room, stopping just out of sight to take in the room.  Everyone they loved most was gathered there, scattered around in small groups.  At first glance the only person missing was his godson August, the baby likely with Martha’s parents; even Tony was there, though the six-year-old was asleep against his father.

It warmed his heart to see them all together, waiting, already loving the little life they didn’t know had arrived, and was currently be weighed and cleaned up.  Slipping his mobile from his pocket he took a picture of the group, wanting to capture this moment, show his child how loved they were from their first breath.

Taking the few steps needed to enter the room, he bit back a smile when no one looked up or registered his presence.  “You all waiting on someone?”

In seconds he had everyone’s full attention, eager eyes waiting with bated breath, and he knew he was failing to contain his joy as they gathered close, instantly dropping their newspapers and books and mobiles to focus on him.

“Well?!”  It was Tony who broke the silence, eyes still full of sleep, and John crouched down in front of him.

“C’mere, mate.”

The boy stepped closer, watching impatiently, little brow furrowing.  “Is my Rosie okay?”

“She is.”  John took a deep breath, nearly overwhelmed with the moment, and the weight of the words he was about to say.  “So’s your niece.”

The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop for one heart stopping moment; and then Jackie screamed “It’s a girl!” and everything devolved into chaos, as he was pulled in every direction for hugs, kisses, and congratulations.

“Wait!” Donna commanded, loud enough to be heard over the chatter, drawing everyone’s attention. “More information.  Is Rose okay?  What’s the baby’s name?  When can we see them?”

“Right.”  Still hugging Martha, somewhat leaning on her for support, he organized his thoughts.  “Rose is fine- a champ, of course, though she’s exhausted.  Baby’s good, big and healthy.  And you can see them in an hour or so.”

Martha poked him viciously in the side.  “And her name?”

His smile grew, thinking of his little girl – for so long she’d felt like an abstract concept, despite watching Rose’s belly grow and actively planning for her arrival.  But now she was here, and beautiful, and his heart was fully.  “Genevieve Amelia.  Jenny.”

This brought on more gushing, and far too many questions for his tired brain to track, much less comprehend or answer, until once again, his sister’s voice broke through.

“Who’s she look like?”

“Rose.”  He grinned; every baby he’d ever seen had just looked like a squirming blob, especially at only minutes old, but not his little girl- no, his daughter already looked so much like her mother it was uncanny. “But she’s got your hair.”

“Yes!” Donna crowed, clutching onto Lee’s arms.  “Another ginger!  We need more of them in this family, I always said that.  Does this mean I get first dibs on meeting her?”

This sparked a new, lively debate between Donna, Sylvia, and Jackie, John just shaking his head with a grin. Catching his grandfather’s eye he tilted his head slightly, before grabbing his brother-in-law’s hand and slipping away with a wink to Pete.

Everyone would have a chance to meet the baby, but they’d decided the oldest and youngest would have first dibs.

Overwhelmed by the urge to see Rose and Jenny, he quickened his step.

His family needed him.

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #31 Days of Ficmas #31 Days of Ficmas 2020 #ficandchips #Doctor Who #9xRose #9th Doctor #Rose Tyler #AU #First Chance at a Family #Second Chance at Forever #pregnancy #morning sickness

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.31

Lance was not having a fun time. The tunnels were poorly lit. Long dark shadows made him skittish, unusually on edge about those things just outside his vision. The place felt cold. Cold and loveless. Like dozens of people had died there suffering. The cold had left him chilled right through, his teeth aching as if they wanted to extend to feed. His stomach felt worse with every step, and ignoring Keith wasn’t helping. He shouldn’t have been so standoffish. He shouldn’t have been letting his embarrassment get to him. Feeling himself stumble for the umpteenth time, Keith took him by the arm without promoting. Lance wanted to shake him off, but honestly he felt so lonely that he craved the touch

“Guys, I think I’m going to take Lance back upstairs. He keeps tripping”

Pidge sighed loudly, the gremlin unhappy. This wasn’t what she expected to be there. Most of the storerooms were blocked off, already empty and left that way for years

“I hate to admit it, but we’ll have to come back. There’s not enough light down here. I should have brought head torches. Next time I’m bringing head torches”

“Next time? Noooo, I don’t want to come down here again”

Hunk was one wrong noise away from jumping out of his skin

“What would Shay say? You know she wanted to be here”

“That’s why I said we should wait... I don’t like this place”

Pidge continued like Hunk was dying a little more with each second passing down here

“She couldn’t help that she had to work because Rax went to Platt”

“Great, so we’re all decided. We’re heading back upstairs and we’re drinking. Good? Good. Let’s go”

Since when was Keith so forceful with everyone? Lance had to admit that his bossiness went straight to places it shouldn’t have. Maybe his crankiness had rubbed off on Keith? He didn’t want Keith to be cranky. The hunter was far too young for wrinkles from frowning. Tugging his arm free, Keith bit his lip as he looked away from Lance. The poor guy was as probably confused by Lance as Lance was by himself. If they did come back down here, he’d insist they do so during the day, with Keith armed, and torches for everyone, with spare torches and spare spare torches. He couldn’t go collapsing the tunnels here, though he wished he could. This place felt so wrong that wanted to go to the nearest church and confess every last sin.

Returning upstairs, Lance still felt ill. Pidge had bounced back, off to the bar to order them around, while Lance was slowly inching towards the toilets, needing a moment to collect himself. This time his arm was grabbed by Hunk

“Where are going?”

Lame shrugged, trying to play it cool

“Bathroom. Call of nature and all that”

Hunk nodded, then Keith ruined things

“Good. I’ll come too. Why don’t you grab us a table?”

Nooooooo. He couldn’t refuse Keith. He couldn’t kick him out a public bathroom

“Okay, don’t take too long or Pidge will drink your drinks”

“Be right there, man! Make sure it’s something large and cold. I need a drink after that”

“You need a drink? I feel like I need seven”

Lance sympathised with Hunk. He didn’t like dark cramped places, or places that were haunted, or both of them together

“I feel ya. Be right back”

Walking into the bathroom, Lance headed straight for the sink. Turning both taps on, the best he could hope for was tepid thanks to health and safety. Leaning down, he splashed water over his face, groaning as his jeans dug into his stomach

“I knew you were feeling worse. What’s going on? Did you see something?”

Closing his eyes, Lance leaned against the sink, trying to push away the cold feeling clinging to him

“Felt it... that place doesn’t feel good”

Something warm fell over his shoulders, the vampires opening his eyes to find Keith had placed his jacket over Lance’s shoulders. Technically it was Lance’s jacket to begin with, but he’d leant to to Keith when Keith had nothing much to wear

“You’ve been avoiding looking at me. It’s because of me, isn’t it? I stuffed things up, didn’t I?”

Straightening up, Lance turned the taps off. He didn’t want to have this conversation, but his defences were to low to fake sass

“I don’t know what to do”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...”

Turning to face Keith, Keith staring at him, looking at him so earnestly

“I mean... I don’t know what to do. I like you. I think I like you. But we’ve barely known each other a handful of weeks and I’m not sure if this isn’t me getting an ego from having someone who understands by myself side, or if I like you because of who you are. We barely know each other. I’ve been scared of myself my whole life. I’ve avoided anything close and intimate. It’s stupid. A monster like me doesn’t deserve friends or happiness, or even a fairytale love story and I’m scared. I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want you to hate me, but I’ve bitten you twice without permission. My first kiss... I knew I was wrong so I had to stay away and now you’re here and I don’t know what to do. I’m so fucking cold. That place may me feel so sick... but I noticed it because I’m not right”

Lance didn’t mean to turn the tears on. He felt sure that Keith would walk away after hearing his confession. Instead the hunter surprised him. Walking over to him, Keith wrapped his arms around him

“God. Why don’t you get a hint. You’re my friend. I don’t know why, but I want to kiss you. When you start calling yourself names I want to hit you for being an idiot. I don’t know why I want to kiss you, maybe because I’ve changing too. My heart keeps racing and my chest feels weird, but I want to kiss you”

“If your having problems with your heart, you need to see a doctor as soon as possible. Has it happened before?”

Keith shook his head. Lance had heard Keith’s racing for no reason, so knew the hunter wasn’t simply making this up

“Not like this...”

That wasn’t good. If anything happened to Keith... He wouldn’t be able to live with himself

“Keith...”

“I’m going to ask Shiro when he gets back”

That’d be soon, but what if something happened to Keith in the mean time

“Maybe we could ask Coran? He has to know, or he’ll know someone we can talk to. We can’t take risks with your health. How long has it been happening”

Keith mumbled against Lance’s shoulder

“A couple of weeks...”

“Keith!”

“It’s not important”

How could this idiot not think his health mattered?! It mattered more than whatever was going on between them. They couldn’t play games with Keith’s health. If there was something wrong, they needed to diagnose it as soon as possible

“How can you say that?! You’re rude and annoying and I don’t know much about you, but you’re human. You need to take care of yourself!”

“You’re overreacting”

“You’re my friend, you dumb jerk!”

“And I think you’re mine too. If you don’t want to kiss me, I’ll understand, but for some reason, I want to try kissing you”

“But I can’t date anyone. I’m...”

“An idiot crumpet”

Lance couldn’t help but laugh. He’d never been called an “idiot crumpet” before. Raising his head at the same time as Keith, they were half a second away from what ever was going to happen when the door to the bathroom started to open, Lance reacting by pushing Keith away as the stranger casually walked over to the urinals. With a silent agreement, the pair nodded at each other, before quickly leaving the bathroom.

*

Keith wasn’t quite sure what had happened in the bathroom. He wasn’t sure if Lance was going kiss him or not. Thanks to the arsehole who’d walked in, now he’d never know. Joining Pidge and Hunk at the table, Hunk was nursing a beer as Pidge kept guard over the three shots in front of her, another three sitting in wait for him and Lance. Eyeing the shots, Keith had a horrible feeling

“Tequila?”

Pidge nodded happily

“When drinking to forger, it has to be tequila”

Lance let out a loud groan, before poking at the side of one of the shots

“Are you trying to kill me? What happened to me being sick?”

“You were wallowing, now you’re drinking!”

“Noooo... Pidge, this isn’t a great idea”

What did Lance have to worry about? He couldn’t get drunk. Sure, there was the after shot burn, but that’s about as bad as it got for him. Keith hadn’t very fond memories of tequila. It most revolved around the bottle he’d stolen as a wayward teen. Shiro had no sympathy when he’d thrown up on his jacket and ruined it

“This is a great idea! One, two, three!”

Both Lance and Pidge took a shot, Keith releasing mid shot and grabbing the closest so he didn’t look clueless. Wincing as he coughed, that was definitely tequila and this was definitely not going to end well

“Fuuuuuck...”

Lance reached over and patted his back

“It’s not going to get any better”

Because that was totally reassuring!

“I know... god... do I have to do the other two?”

Pidge shuddered, ignoring the involuntary movement, she smiled

“Yep! This one’s to way friends and missing brothers who desert us!”

Shooting the second shot, it was worse than the first. His third shot glass was taken by Lance

“Okay. Time to slow down. Keith has a bad heart and too much alcohol isn’t a good thing”

Hunk went into concerned friend mode, something usually directed at Lance

“You never told us that”

“It’s fine. He’s overreacting”

Lance quickly downed the shot meant for him

“Oops. Now you’ll have to slow down”

“Oops” his left arse cheek. Lance had no right spilling that thing about his heart. Reaching out, he took Lance’s last shot, locking eyes with him before downing it. 3 shots in the space of 5 minutes wasn’t the smartest of plans but he didn’t need protecting. He was a grown adult who could make his own choices

“Keith, my man! Nicely done. In your face, Lance!”

Hunk nervously interjected

“Pidge, I don’t think we should be encouraging him...”

“We’re not. He did that all by himself”

Lance pushed his chair back, Keith had the feeling he’d somehow disappointed him, but his original plan of liquid courage was back on track, so Lance could suck it

“Right, well, before you both get shit faced, I’m getting food for the table”

The more Keith drank, the more he knew he was screwed. The tequila had hit hard, as had the four double bourbons and coke, even with Lance pestering them all to the eat wedges he’d bought for the table. When Pidge suggested karaoke, his dumb arse had agreed, not knowing he was going to end up on stage with Lance, belting out the words to Black Parade... Drinking made his normal tight hold on his emotions slip away. That’s why he’d started drinking only when he was at home and not likely to get himself in trouble. Lance seemed to be having fun, but Keith couldn’t tell if it was an act. Coming off the stage, Keith headed straight to the bar for another drink, leaning against the counter as Lance was pulled into another duet with Pidge, who really couldn’t sing despite giving it her best shot.

Ordering another bourbon and coke, Keith smiled as he watched the pair making fools of themselves, Pidge being booed, as she alternated between singing and telling the crowd to “shut the fuck up”. Fuck she was feisty. Feeling an arm brush against his, Keith turned to the stranger beside him, the man barely taller than himself

“Watch it”

Keith blinked at the stranger, they might be in the middle of nowhere but the man was backwards on top of backwards with more testosterone than braincells

“You’re the one who bumped into me”

“You should still be careful. Can I buy you a drink?”

Now he was being hit on?

“I’ve got one, thanks”

“I haven’t seen you around here before”

“Maybe you haven’t been looking?”

“I think I’d remember a pretty face like that”

“Then maybe you should get a doctor to look you over?”

The man snorted at him. Drunk Keith was a horny Keith. Another reason to avoid drinking in public

“I don’t know about your friends, but maybe you could come give me a moment of your time?”

“Only a moment? Sorry, I don’t think that’s going to cut it”

“What about all night?”

There were worse choices he could make. Keith found himself smiling despite the fact the man not being his type at all

“I’m...”

Keith was cut off, Lance appearing beside him, an arm shaking around his waist

“Sorry about my friend here. He’s a terrible drunk. I hope he wasn’t inconveniencing you”

“Not at all. We were having quite the stimulating conversation. We were about to take it somewhere more private”

“Sorry, but he’s actually coming home right now”

“What are you? His keeper? Let’s leave this jerk off. You can do better than that”

The strangers words didn’t go down well. Keith went from feeling buzzed to murderous that the man would insult Lance like that. Grabbing his drink, he threw it in the man’s face. There were a few gasps, the strangers face morphing to anger

“Don’t you talk about him like that!”

“What the fuck is your mental damage?!”

Keith went to swing. One moment he was standing and the next he was over Lance’s shoulder

“Pidge! Hunk! Time to go!”

“Put me down, you arsehole! He insulted you!”

Hitting Lance’s back, Lance kept walking, Keith keeping his head down in embarrassment. He wasn’t a kid! He could handle himself!

Following them out the pub, Pidge was laughing, Hunk apologising to everyone. Lance still refused to put him down until they reached Hunk’s car

“What was that?”

Wheezing with laughter, Pidge was annoying him. Pushing against Lance, Keith really wanted to go back and punch that guy square in the face

“Keith had a bit too much to drink. Pidge, you get in the front with Hunk. I’ve got an angry emo to wrestle under control”

“He insulted you”

“And you decided to throw your drink in his face! I can’t believe you!”

“He...”

“Was a nobody! Get in the car, Keith!”

Keith swallowed. Lance was livid and he knew it. Unlocking the door, Keith was forced in the back while Hunk walked around the pair of them, the poor dude didn’t look happy at all. It wasn’t Keith’s intention to be a dick, but Lance was Lance and didn’t need to be spoken to like that.

It turned out that climbing into the back was the worst idea Lance had ever had. Keith felt trapped by the sweet scent rolling off the vampire, and maybe a little bit too horny from the alcohol and adrenaline rush. The ride home was lost in a fog, Keith finding himself being pulled out of the car by Lance, who was calling apologies to Hunk and Pidge and promising to make it up to them.

Getting inside the house, Keith felt his self control erode. Lance’s hand in his gave him a private thrill. The fire simmer in his belly burning into something dangerous. Barely through the door, Keith grabbed Lance by the collar, pushing the vampire up against the wall hard enough to make a thud, his lips on Lance’s before Lance knew what was happening. Fuck... he wanted him. He wanted him in any way he could get him. Resisting the kiss, Lance’s teeth cut Keith’s lips, Keith keeping him pinned until the resistance started to fade. When Lance shoved him back, Keith was confused, then the vampire was pushing him back up against the door, kissing him every much as Keith wanted to be kissed. Bringing his hand up, Lance grabbed him by the back of the head, the pair of them rutting up against each other as they made out sloppily.

Before they could go further, Lance was pulling away, head dropping against Keith’s shoulder as Keith bared his neck, hands going to the button of Lance’s jeans

“Keith... this isn’t...”

“Less talking, more moving”

Rolling his hips, the hunter moaned, feeling how hard Lance was against him

“Keith...”

“Goddamn it, Lance... Shut up and take me to bed”

Releasing his hair, Lance grabbed him by the arse, Keith jumping up to wrap his legs around Lance’s slim waist as their lips met again. Being with Lance was exhilarating. Their kisses deep and hungry, hands all over each other as Lance carried him upstairs to his room.

Clumsy as they reached their destination, Keith was dropped down backwards on the bed, not slowing down an inch as he started stripping Lance. Reason had gone out the window, the human animal laid bare by their desires. Getting Lance’s shirt and jacket off, Keith’s hands went back to fumbling at Lance’s jeans, trying and failing at getting them undone. Groaning his annoyance, Lance pulled his hands away, pinning them above Keith’s head as he looked him in the eye

“Do you want this?”

“Yes... fuck yes...”

He was hopelessly horny, feeling like a teenager all over again. He didn’t care which way he had Lance, only that he had to have him now. His consent was enough for the older man, Lance releasing his hands and moving to stripping his shirt off. Fuck... they hadn’t even fucked and Lance looked blissed out. Fangs protruding over his teeth as his hands moved to Keith’s pants. Keith getting all the more impatient over Lance’s jeans not being around his ankles

“Patience”

Rising from the bed, Lance stripped his jeans off, Keith quickly doing the same. Moving over to his bedside drawers, Lance grabbed out a line of condoms and a bottle of lube, his cheeks adorably red as he mumbled about “vampires having needs too”. Climbing back onto the bed, Lance straddled his hips, Keith moaning as he wrapped his arms around him, leg coming up to prevent him escaping as they rocked together. Feeling at bursting point, Keith broke the kiss

“I fucking want you...”

“I’ve never done this before”

“Neither have I...”

“I don’t want to hurt you”

It was a sweet confession, but not what Keith wanted. Growling, he rolled them over, kneeling between Lance’s long legs, he eyes the vampire below... Lance wasn’t hung, but he wasn’t small, Keith agreeing mentally he was the perfect size to be in his mouth. Shimmying back, he placed kisses on Lance’s inner thighs, Lance moaning lewdly at the action... Blowing Lance was going to need to wait until he was sober

“Lube”

Keith knew enough to know it was going to hurt without proper prep. Whether it be vaginally, anally, or bank robbery, always finger your partner. The lewd joke coming to mind as he took the lube from Lance. Squeezing out a generous amount, Keith tossed the lube aside

“Ready?”

Lance nodded, Keith’s fingers dipping into the cleft of Lance’s arse. Finding the tight ring of muscle, he was a tad too enthusiastic as he pressed his finger in. Lance’s eyes shooting wide open

“Gentle!”

Keith took the hint, blush in his cheeks. He didn’t want to hurt Lance... right... he needed to calm down...

Keith couldn’t calm down, and Lance was too impatient. Pushing Keith back, Lance flipping himself over, pushing his arse in the air

“Just do it already...”

There wasn’t anything sexy about the comment, Keith rushing to grab a condom, before finding his fingers too slippery to get the thing open, tearing open the one beneath the one he actually wanted. Rolling the flimsy piece of plastic in place, he hands were shaking with exhilaration and nerves, a sucked down a deep breath. They were doing this... and fuck he wanted it.

Slowly sinking into Lance’s heat, Keith groaned at the tightness around him. Lance whimpering as he kept things slow, trying not hurt the vampire. Burying himself balls deep, he caged Lance’s body with his own, giving him a moment to adjust before slowly pulling back then snapping his hips forward. Lance felt so goddamn wet and tight... Keith losing himself in the pleasure of the act as he pulled back again. He’d never done this before, but it hands down beated jerking off alone in his room. Sitting back, his hands went to Lance’s hips, feeling more confident about what he was doing given he hadn’t broken Lance with his first pathetic thrusts. They’d barely started but he was ready to come, the feeling building all over again as he started fucking Lance’s pert little arse sloppily with in experience.

When his orgasm finally hit, Keith came with a twisted groan. Beneath him Lance was making the most beautiful noises, hands clutching his blankets as his orgasm hit, clenching hard around Keith like he was trying to drain him dry. Dizzy from exhaustion and alcohol, Keith flopped forward, hips still rutting as he rubbed his cheek against Lance’s smooth back, babbling a string of praises that didn’t reach his ears. Easing out his now lover, he found himself crawling off Lance to flop down next to him, a hand coming up to pat Lance’s shoulder before Lance was letting himself fall against him. Fuck, he boneless with release, sated and sleepy. Lance seemed to want to cuddle, Keith not objecting as Lance moved to face him rather than having his back against him, their lips finding each other’s again. Wow... just... wow...

[aonrivers]

Pregnancy, Birth, Postpartum, and Baby Time! (TMI warning) - Part 02

In Part 01 I went over the truths about being pregnant. Now that the nine (really ten) months are over... Labor and Postpartum begins.

Labor and Postpartum Truths: 1) Not being able to eat sucks once you're admitted into the hospital. You seriously only get ice water like they say online. So make your last meal one that can hold you out until after birth. 2) Contractions feel like really bad period cramps. I'm sure there's some women who feel them worse, but that's all I got on the topic. I was numb for them most of the time. 3) To induce labor, at least for me, they shoved this "shoelace" thing up my you-know-what. As I said before, I was swollen down there, so any time my cervix was checked I was in a lot of pain, and this thing was no different. 4) Hospital rooms are not quiet. Between hearing everyone outside at the nursing station to the beeping in your room, you also have constant visits from nurses when all you wanna do is rest because you're basically waiting for labor to begin. 5) Water breaking isn't a "oh hey I think I peed myself". No. It's like a queef then GUSH and it doesn't stop until you and your bed are soaked. 6) Catheters are handy when you are bed rest and drinking gallons of water. Also, you get one when you get the epidural. Which they don't really tell you until the epidural is offered. 7) Take the epidural if you don't want to experience a natural and painful birth. I felt no pain leading up to labor. I did however feel a shit ton of pain when the pain relief ran out. They tell you it's because labor is all in your back - this excuse is bullshit. I was in so much pain when that shit wore off that my husband said my labor pain face didn't match this one. Once they take the tube out of your back, the pain fades away. But my back still hurts in that spot even as I type this. The pain in the spine also lingers after giving birth. Almost like you need your back seriously cracked. 8) The epidural needle doesn't really hurt if your pain tolerance is high for stuff like this. It's a pinch. What you do feel that is considered almost like a quick throbbing pain is when the fluid is injected. It's like a small punch to your back. 9) Projectile vomit will most likely occur. All the gallons of water you consumed waiting for labor will come projecting out of you before you go into active labor. Be glad your head doesn't start spinning. I up chucked three times and had to have myself redressed and my bedding changed out. 10) Some labor beds have built in handles to assist with labor. See if yours does. They helped a lot. 11) I tore two tiny spots inside my VJ giving birth. They stick a numbing agent where they see you'll be tearing, so that's cool and all - you'll feel it when you start being mobile again. BTW, some women tear bigger. Luckily my baby was only 7lbs. 12) You may not know your labor doctor. I met mine briefly the day before at my doctor's office, but never before that. Don't feel shy about being exposed in front of them though, they do this for a living. 13) Speaking of being shy. I am a prude with my body. I don't want people checking out my ass or having my nipples poking through my shirt on a cold day but all of this goes out the window when you're in the hospital to give birth and here's why. One: this is the doctor and nurse's job. They see boobs, ass, and vagina every day. And two: you're giving birth - who TF cares what you look like. 14) Pushing a baby out is not like pushing pee out. It's like taking the biggest shit of your life. You push with your asshole. Literally. And it causes hemorrhoids and for your ass to hurt WEEKS after giving birth. (Do yourself a favor and get some fiber enriched foods because pooping is not easy it pain free.) 15) Those home videos of the women giving birth don't exist anymore. It's pretty much illegal. I guess people were blackmailing the mother. Idk. That's what my nurse said. But they give you a big ass mirror to watch the birth of your baby so that's really cool. 16) Hospitals offer photographs of your newborn (unless you gave birth in 2020). It's usually expensive and I would've done it too if they offered. My husband got amazing shots of our daughter which I cropped out to make that oval baby picture our parents in the 80s got. 17) Taking pictures of your baby in the nursery is a big no no. I wish I could've seen my baby under the UV lamp with her glasses on to fix her jaundice, but I was bedridden with the pre-eclampsia. Hubby saw her though. He says she was just chilling while all the other babies were crying their heads off. FYI, the reason you can't take pictures is because of the other babies in there. They're not yours. You don't have the right to photograph them even if your baby is mixed in and she's the only one you want the picture of. 18) I wasn't told this until it came time... But they push your belly and I mean in your belly button and hard. They check if your uterus is shrinking and returning in place. (Breastfeeding helps it go faster.) This pushing hurts like a mofo. Seriously. And they don't care if you're in pain from, oh idk - THE EPIDURAL WEARING OFF! They are required to check. 19) My friend told me this which I think is important to know... When you're doped up on pain meds before birth or if you're having a really hard time during the labor process (time  you entered hospital to when the baby pops out), have someone with you. Have that person listen to the words coming out of the doctor and nurse's mouths. My friend didn't and took meds they gave her and was devastated when her baby came out gray and on the edge of death. She didn't know what they gave her or what they said about the meds. If she did, she would've known this would be the outcome of her child's birth (baby lived btw. He just graduated high school last year!) 20) Labor and Delivery nurses are freaking awesome. Postpartum nurses not so much... 21) The hospital food really isn't that bad. At least, it wasn't where I stayed. I had choices for breakfast, lunch, and dinner too! 22) Nurses can't technically tell you no to taking the baby to the nursery. Yes you need bonding time with your baby, but you also need rest. 23) The chair that pulls out into a bed for your partner is uncomfortable af. They have cots. Ask for one. 24) I couldn't have visitors. Make sure you don't either. It's nice. You don't gotta worry about appearance or staying awake for your guest. Birth is about you and your baby (and partner) and the time you have with them. Your guest can wait till you get home. 25) Back to the heartburn and hairy babies talk. This isn't really a myth. My baby came out with a full head of hair, hair on her ears, and fuzz all over her shoulders and back. At a month old it's going away, but that head of hair is real. And so was that heartburn!! 26) Bleeding after birth is like having your period back, but it goes on and on. It changes colors and has a gross smell to it. And wearing a pad again SUCKS! I do have to say though... That mesh underwear they give you is freaking awesome. I want some for my daily wear. 27) For a week or two, I felt like I was punched in the cooch. Walking hurt, getting up hurt, even bathing hurt (no baths until you heal btw, so I showered). Even now, a month later, I still feel pain down there when sitting a certain way (like Indian style). But what do I expect? A freaking baby was pushed out of me!! 28) After the six week heal time is up, don't expect sex to go back to normal. It still hurts for me but this time because of the bruising and stitches. 29) When it's time for sex, lube up. Breastfeeding and hormones still rampant don't assist in easy glide ins (if you know what I mean). 30) When the milk comes in, your boobs get bigger, harder, and start to ache. Feed feed feed or feed and pump. It's the only way to fix it. And don't be surprised when you wake up and your bed is stained with milk puddles because you're still sleeping naked to easily feed your little one at night. My side of the bed is disgusting, but ce la vie! It comes with the territory (like lack of sleep). 31) Also, sleeping on your side with milk filled boobs is not easy. It hurts. Go back to sleeping on your back because belly sleeping isn't comfortable either. 32) Everything you buy or received for your baby screams suffocation with it's warning labels. Don't let it get you paranoid like it did for me. Learn your babies habits and go with your instincts. They also sell baby breathing monitors that alert you if the baby stops breathing. 33) Outfits are cute and irresistible, but try to resist buying those newborn clothes. My baby grew out of them all within three weeks and wore only half of the clothes we had. Also, buy larger clothes - season conscious - that way you're ready when the baby starts growing out of their clothes. We had hardly any 3 month PJs, now her closet is over packed... 34) The baby may not sleep in their crib or bassinet right away. My girl would rather be on me or my husband than a cold bed. Seriously. They want your baby sleeping with nothing but a fitted mattress that's cold and a swaddle or wearable blanket. My baby hates swaddles and kicked too much with the wearable blanket. She sleeps with me for easy feeding and comfort - for me and her. I don't sleep much but slowly I've been getting my Z's and during the day I put her in the bassinet on her belly because I can watch her and she's amazing with that head support already. When she doesn't feed every 2-3 hours, she'll be spending more time on her own in her bed. So don't be discouraged if it's not working for you. It will happen. Just takes time. 35) Sound machine was a waste of a gift. Our phones have sound effects we can tune into. Google Home and Alexa even offer it. My baby doesn't like it, she'd rather listen to us or the TV. Also she doesn't like the dark until she's actually sleeping. She loves bright lights. They tell you the opposite online. 36) If your boobs are small, don't bother getting the shirts where you pull your boob through a window because it won't work. The shirts with the clip that drops to expose the breast are the best. Amazon has great prices and quality shirts on this. My one from Kohl's broke after wearing four times. 37) I really don't think those smiles are gas like they claim it to be. Sure some are. But when your kid smiles without passing gas, they're smiling because they're happy/content. 38) You'll probably end up missing your belly bump the first few weeks like I did. I kept thinking she was still in there. I mean, it's nine months carrying a creature in you. You get used to it. And lastly... 35) You get what you wished for. Any time I talked about having babies, I said keywords on what I wanted: a beautiful, healthy, happy, and smart baby. And I got just that. === So there it is. My journey, my tips, and my nitty gritty of it all of just pregnancy, labor, and postpartum alone!! There is so much more to being a mother; and that will continue in my part 03,04,05,etc to come. IDK how many there will be, only time will tell.

I will continue to update Part 01 and Part 02 when I remember more things.

As Part 03 is conjuring, I would like to say congrats if you're pregnant or gave birth already; and good luck if you're trying.

#pregnancy #birth #postpartum #baby spice #baby #nitty gritty #child #childbirth #children #mother #motherhood #blog #post #new mom #mom to be

[call-me-rei]

Chapter 31

“I can’t be your lover on a leash…”

---

The whole school was still in a commotion the day after Jacob tried to start shit. Most kids were talking about how Vic owned him while others were placing bets on whether Jacob or I would win in a fight.

I rolled my eyes as I walked past some kids whispering about me. I wouldn’t have minded it too much if they hadn’t been so obvious. Fucking freshmen.

I went to my locker and took out the books I’d need for my two classes before choir. I put them in my backpack, slung the bag over my good shoulder, and walked to class.

It was an A day, meaning I had first period. That was my government class. I chuckled to myself as I walked down the hall and into the room. I found humor in the looks some of the students were giving me as I sat in my seat for the day. Well, technically it was Vic’s seat. He did almost beat me up for it.

I had gotten to class early so there weren’t many students in the room, but the ones who were there looked at me like I was crazy or stupid. I ignored the stares and took my notebook out of my backpack. The whole school already thought Vic kicked my ass for sitting here so what else could he do? Why beat someone up for the same thing twice?

Did I actually think Vic would hurt me for sitting in a dumb seat? Of course not. Even if he wasn’t talking to me, I knew he wouldn’t attack me for something so stupid, especially since he knew why I was broken and bruised in the first place.

The first bell of the morning rang, signaling that students were coming into the building. I had at least fifteen minutes to zone out and draw before Mr. Davis started the lesson. I took my headphones out and put on one of my favorite playlists that I’d created on Spotify.

My “just because” playlist was pretty chill. It was mostly filled with songs from my friends’ playlists or songs I grew up listening to. Either way it was relaxing. I wanted to create a playlist of songs from the friends I’d made in San Diego. They each had such different tastes that it would be fun to hear how they all connected. And since I couldn’t find the inspiration to draw, I figured I could get started on that before class.

I went to Lynn’s page first. I knew she liked music with an electronic element. I listened to the first song on her playlist and liked it. I’d need to listen to it again to decide if I wanted it on my page.

I repeated this process with Kortney’s, Ashley’s, Tyler’s, and Savannah’s playlists. The vibes were different on each of them; that made them more fun to listen to. I had a couple minutes before the final bell, so I scrolled down my profile page looking for more of my friends’ pages to explore.

That’s when I saw it.

I had completely forgotten that Vic and I were following each other on Spotify. He wanted us to listen to some songs for inspiration for our music appreciation project and he wanted to share those songs with me on the app. I didn’t think too much of it at the time and I didn’t go back to his page since he had directly shared the playlist with me. But now that we weren’t talking I wanted to see what was up.

I pressed on his picture and saw his list of playlists. He had one titled Curty P Party Mix, whatever that was, and a couple others that were just an artist’s discography. One playlist in particular stood out though. It was titled For You.

I opened it. “Anywhere With You” by Saves The Day was on it along with “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars. There were many different genres in between, but the message was clear: he missed someone.

Was it me?

I shook my head. There was no way I was going to put myself in that position again. He rejected me. He left me. He didn’t want to be with me! I wasn’t going to allow myself to think that he was sorry when he hadn’t tried to talk to me in a week.

The final bell rang while I was talking to myself, letting the school know that it was time for class to start. I put my headphones in my bag and locked my phone.

Mr. Davis stood from behind his desk ready to start the lesson but stopped short when the door opened. It was déjà vu. Vic walked in. Mr. Davis sighed and gestured for Vic to take his seat. Vic walked across the floor without a word. The kids in class seemed to hold their breath. Why? Oh, because I was in that damn seat.

Vic walked up to me and stared. I couldn’t help but stare back. Unlike my first day, he didn’t threaten me. He didn’t say a single word to me, just stared. I tried to read his face. He wasn’t angry or trying to threaten me. He wore his signature expressionless look. I tried to send that same look to him but I’m sure I came across as intimidated.

We continued our staring contest for what felt like half an hour when in reality it was probably a few seconds.

Mr. Davis cleared his throat. “Mr. Fuentes, please take your seat.”

Vic snapped out of his daze and took the empty seat next to mine. He didn’t glance at me and didn’t speak to me for the entire period.

***

I sat on the floor in a practice room after choir. It was quiet and secluded, so I didn’t have to worry about someone saying anything to me. Being at school had been rougher than I imagined. I ended up texting Lynn after economics telling her I wouldn’t be at lunch. She was concerned, but she understood that I was overwhelmed. She offered to drive me to McDonald’s after school if I was feeling up to it.

As much as I wanted to focus on the potential good that was going to come after a stressful day, my mind went back to Vic’s playlist. For You. As much as I didn’t want to think it, I wanted it to be for me. If he wasn’t going to talk to me then all I had was to wish that he’d dedicate some songs to me.

I went back to Spotify and Vic’s profile. I’m not sure why, but I hesitated. I should’ve picked a song to listen to immediately, but I was worried. Some part of me thought this was a trick. Like he knew I would find it and he set it up so I would think that he missed me.

Fuck, I was overthinking again.

I shut my brain off and picked a song from the playlist. “All That I’ve Got” by The Used started playing from my phone’s speakers. I sat back against the wall and listened to the lyrics. I figured that even if Vic hadn’t made the playlist for me, I could use it to describe my own feelings.

I felt like shit.

I missed him.

I sighed. I didn’t want to openly admit it, but I’d be damned if I could ignore it. The song that was playing wasn’t helping but to be fair none of the songs on the list would help.

We needed to talk. I didn’t understand why he didn’t want to talk to me. I’d thought about it for the entire week. I knew that I wouldn’t be obsessing over it if he’d just answer my questions and let me know. Damn him for being so aloof!

I closed my eyes as The Used stopped playing and “Only Us” by Thrice came on.

“There’s ‘only us,’ huh?” I said to myself. “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

“You wanna talk?” I hadn’t noticed that the door opened. I jumped in my spot and looked toward the voice of that son of a bitch.

“What?” I huffed. Seeing him in the doorway made me frustrated. Why was he there? What did he want? Why was this the first time in a week that he wanted to speak? I didn’t want to see him. It was as if I needed to be available for him but when I wanted to get close to him he had the right to reject me. Well maybe I wanted that right.

He cocked his head to the side. “You found my playlist.”

That was all he had to say? I scoffed and turned to face forward.

“So you’re gonna ignore me?”

I turned around swiftly with my mouth open. Did he really say that? The bitch who’d been ignoring me for six damn days was upset that I didn’t respond to him?

“Fuck off,” I spat. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. It looked like he was contemplating what to do next.

He turned around after a moment. I thought he was going to leave but instead he closed the door. I pursed my lips and watched as he stepped farther into the room and sat on the floor about a foot away from me.

“What part of ‘fuck off’ don’t you understand?” I asked. “I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“Well I wanna talk to you.” I shot daggers at him with my eyes. The nerve of this bitch!

“No,” I said. He looked at me quizzically. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not understand?”

“Kellin-”

“No,” I said again, cutting him off. “I tried to talk to you for six fucking days and you ignore me and push me aside like I'm a piece of trash. Now you wanna talk to me and I should just be ready? Fuck you! You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't get to just look at me and not say a single word to me for a week and not care about how it makes me feel. You also don't get to make fucking playlists for me and act like nothing is wrong! You don't deserve my attention; you don't deserve to be in this room with me. You are not allowed to string me along after you explicitly told me that you wanted me. It's not fair and I don't deserve it.”

I was standing at the end of that rant, my breathing heavy. I wasn’t sure where that all came from but damn, it felt good to get it out.

Then I saw the look on his face and I regretting learning to talk in the first place.

He sat there with his trademark blank expression. I couldn’t tell if he was taking everything in or was trying not to explode the same way I had.

“Are you gonna say anything?” I asked softly once I’d calmed down.

He stood up. “Do you really feel that way?”

I nodded slowly. I didn’t trust my mouth or my brain to give him a good answer.

He looked at me, chocolate brown eyes searching my blue ones. Apparently he didn’t find what he was looking for because he turned and walked out of the room without another word.

#Conan Gray - The Cut That Always Bleeds #Pierce The Veil fanfiction #Pierce The Veil fanfic #Kellic fanfiction #Kellic fanfic #Kellic #Vic Fuentes #Kellin Quinn #Playlist Love #Saves The Day - Anywhere With You #Bruno Mars - Talking to the Moon #Thrice - Only Us

[erin-bo-berin]

Stargazing

It’s been such a long time since I wrote something and I haven’t written a Spencer Reid fic yet, so here it is. Warning its SMUTTY. Enjoy!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 2,999

Rated: M (Smut)

Your feet in the water was the only sound being made in the quiet night. The rest of the team had already turned in, but you decided to hang back for a few moments of peace and quiet.

Earlier in the day Garcia had invited the whole team over to hang out in her new hot tub. It had been a rare few days where the BAU hadn’t had a case and she thought it was a good idea for everyone to relax while we could.

Originally it was just going to be a girls night, you, Tara, JJ, Emily and Penelope hanging out in the hot tub—champagne and girl talk included. Somehow it ended up with the entire team coming over to hang out after Spencer had stopped by to return a book he’d borrowed. If only he’d known the hard time the girls had been giving you just moments before.

You were the newest member to the team, a temporary one at that, at least for now. There’d been talk about making you their permanent press liaison. Besides being the newest to them team, you were also the new youngest; Spencer being the youngest of the team for 15 years the other members were having a blast teasing the new “baby of the BAU”. You were 31 to Spencer’s 38 and apparently that was more than enough excuse for the others—mainly the girls—to try and set you two up.

“Oh come on, Spence is great!” JJ beamed.

“He really is [Y/N],” Emily piped in.

“Come on, you’re hot, he’s got eyes, I mean even he can’t miss that!” Penelope grinned so big, she was on the precipice of looking like a Cheshire Cat.

“Guys, calm down,” you chuckle, “I know he’s great and brilliant. I get along with him well y'all know that.”

“I think he likes southern accents too,” Tara smirked, laughing as she clinked her glass with Penelope’s as the latter nodded vigorously.

“He does. I asked him the other day.”

“Subtle, Penelope, subtle,” you mumble.

“Well technically his exact words were that they’re fine and then he launched into some facts about accents that I couldn’t even remember if I tried.”

“Okay enough, this night isn’t about me,” I smiled, “I want updates on all of your lives.”

The conversation from earlier played through your head and you smiled to yourself. The one thing the ladies didn’t know was the...thing that was happening between you and Spencer. You didn’t know how to explain it exactly. Your banter always seemed friendly with an edge of flirting, but it always left your entire body tingling as if you’d just been shocked by an electrical outlet. You thought it was just in your head, the connection you felt, the chemistry. It was no secret to yourself that you were attracted to the good doctor.

“What are you still doing up?”

You yelped, almost losing your balance and falling straight into the hot tub. The chuckle that followed was instantly recognizable.

“Jeez warn a person before sneaking up on them!” You grin, resteading yourself on the edge.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Spencer chuckled, sitting down next to you.

“I thought you’d be in bed like everyone else,” you nodded towards the house where the others were crashing for the night, the invitation from Penelope extending to anyone who wanted to stay.

“Couldn’t sleep.” His eyes slid to you before continuing, “Saw the light still on out here and figured I’d check on you.”

Your breath caught, more memories from earlier flitting across your brain. Was he still awake for the same reason you were?

Loud laughter filled the air. Different conversations filled your ears as several team members were having separate conversations with one another. You were busy listening to a story Penelope was telling, JJ seated next to her and across from them sat you and Spencer. You had ironically became like their fourth musketeer since joining the BAU.

“So I’m getting Sergio out of the car at the vet-” Penelope is saying.

You’re trying to hide a grin as you take a sip of champagne—only your second glass, you know how to nurse your drink well—when you feel something brush your thigh. You ignore it, thinking you’ve imagined it as you continue listening to your friend’s story, certain there’s going to be a hilarious ending to this. A couple of minutes pass before you feel the same sensation again only with more pressure. You almost lose grip of your glass as your mind finally registers the feeling—a hand sliding up your thigh.

Your eyes flick to your left at Spencer whose gaze is still on Penelope, listening to her story. It happens quickly but his gaze meets yours, an eyebrow slightly raised as if seeking permission. Your head moves the tiniest bit, an imperceptible nod, but he sees it.

“You’re telling me Sergio managed to get out of his carrier in the middle of the vet’s waiting room and terrorize a nearby bunny?” Spencer laughed.

“He wasn’t terrorizing it!” Penelope exclaimed, “He was trying to be friends! He kept staring at the bunny through the bunny’s carrier. He’s an old man and not a mean one at that.”

Your breath hitched as you felt his touch graze across the thin fabric of your bikini bottom. There was no way this was the same Dr. Reid that was so good at geographic profiling and cracking even the hardest of codes. You found your comprehension of the ongoing conversation starting to cut in and out as the fabric was pulled to the side and his fingers made contact with your bare skin.

“You had to be there I swear-”

“What would you have done if-”

“The vet was cackling when I told him the story and he said-”

You took a gulp of your fizzing drink as his fingertips brushed your clit, your need pulsating twice as much as it was just moments before. It took a great amount of control to keep your jaw from dropping when you felt one of his fingers slip inside you. It had been a while since you’d had any sort of sexual relations with anyone, probably too long by the way you were already shifting, wanting, needing to feel more. One became two and you couldn’t tell if your head was spinning because of the alcohol or because of what Spencer was secretly doing to you underneath the cover of the rumbling water. Most likely the latter. At the back of your mind the thought briefly formed that the feeling between you both was definitely mutual, but you honestly couldn’t spare it much thought currently.

His fingers were moving slowly, torturing you and your teeth came down on your bottom lip. You wanted—no you needed more. One hand left the glass you were holding and went into the water. You silently prayed no one around could notice what’s happening as your hand reached his, trying to push it harder against you. You pretended you were only trying to reposition yourself on the hot tub seat accidentally making you shift closer to him, his fingers moving deeper within you as a result. It was an extreme effort to keep from crying out like you came close to doing.

“You okay?” JJ asked frowning, “Too much champagne?”

“W-What?” you squeaked. You literally squeaked. For God’s sake you wanted to kill Spencer at the moment.

“You looked like you were in pain. For some reason a few months before I got pregnant with Henry, champagne would occasionally give me a stomachache.”

“Oh no, I’m fine.” I answered quickly, “Just got a little sore from sitting in one position for too long.”

She flashed you an understanding smile before merging back into the conversation Penelope and Spencer were having. How the hell was he so calm? You were practically sweating bullets.

His thumb moved in circles against your bundle of nerves. A moan just barely dies in your throat, but it came too close to escaping your mouth. There's pressure building in the pit of your stomach and you can feel your breathing become labored.

Your hand tugs at wrist trying somehow to alert him that you’re quickly coming undone. You’re not sure if you want him to quit or keep going at this rate. You’re almost afraid of what you’ll do if you end up orgasming in front of your friends. Your cheeks heat at the thought and thank the stars that the falling darkness is probably disguising most of this. Before you could say or do anything, his touch is gone completely, leaving you breathless and craving his touch once again.

“Guys, look!” Penelope gasped.

You looked up at the fully darkened night sky as a shooting star went by. You wondered if it was too much to wish that the events that occurred only moments ago, would happen again.

Spencer didn’t acknowledge you for the rest of the night.

Until now.

“I’m amazed. Especially after how calm and controlled you were earlier when you were ignoring me,” you mumbled.

His smirk faded from his lips, his hand coming to rest right next to yours on the edge. It was amazing how much larger his hand was compared to your tiny one.

“I only did that because I was afraid what I might do to you. Even if it was in front of everyone.”

You swore you could feel the blush from your head to your toes.

“So…” he continued, noticing your silence, “That was okay to do right?”

“Yeah, well yes, I mean yeah it was okay.” You inwardly groaned at your nervous stuttering.

“I’m just kind of shocked. Like I didn’t expect that. Where did that come from?” You half chuckled, half exhaled, trying to get a hold of your nerves.

“[Y/N].” His voice was soft, but serious.

You looked up at him, finally looking him in the eye for the first time since he’d joined you.

“I almost died last week.”

You winced thinking back to the last case you all had worked. In a shootout with an unsub, a bullet came close to ending his life. He wasn’t actually hit, but if that bullet had been flying at a slightly different angle it would’ve hit his femoral artery. Even though he was physically fine, the thought seemed to freak him out for days. Sure he’d been shot before, but there was nothing scarier than the knowledge he could’ve died.

You opened your mouth to comfort him, ask him if needed anything, but he interrupted you.

“I’m okay, don’t worry. It just got me thinking. I didn’t want to waste anymore time not letting you know how I actually feel about you.”

As cliche as it was, you were sure you felt your heart skip a beat.

“So I decided to take a chance,” he shrugged, finishing his explanation, his hand moving to rest on your cheek.

His lips were on yours before you could respond and God, did it feel so good to finally kiss him. Maybe it was because of the pent up frustration all your banter brought both of you, but your kisses quickly went from gentle, first kiss territory to more heated. Hands roamed and tongues interlocked before you gently bit his bottom lip eliciting a moan from him, the sound giving you goosebumps. It was so unusual to see him in a state like this, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

Your fingers were fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when he kissed a particular sensitive spot just where your jawline and neck met. You’d never had any particular favorite spots before, but it seemed like adding him into the equation made it possible. He sucked lightly before flicking his tongue over it surely leaving a mark, but the action caused you to falter, momentarily forgetting what you were doing.

You could feel him grin into your neck as his hands slid up your back towards the tie of your bikini top. That action snapped you back to reality and you finally got his shirt off between kisses. Your hands moved down his bare chest to his stomach wishing you had the time to cover him in kisses and bruises. But you had other things on your mind at the moment.

Your fingertips reached the top of the trunks he was still wearing and you could feel his breath hitch. It was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. He pulled away from the kiss as your hand gripped him, his breathing shallow, his jaw slackened. Your lips moved across his jaw innocently as you twisted your wrist tauntingly.

“[Y/N] I’m sure you want payback for earlier,” he croaked, his grip on your hips tightening, “But if you keep that up, I'm gonna be done for right now.”

“Well that’s no good,” you pulled away teasingly, sliding yourself back into the hot tub, “Because I want you to cum inside of me.”

You bit your bottom lip as you untied the last knot of your top and throwing it halfway across the tub. You watch him gulp and join you in the warm water, settling on the bench seat you both shared earlier. A part of you couldn’t believe you were being so brazen, with Spencer of all people. He had a way of making you extremely nervous, but at this moment you couldn’t care at all.

He reached out for you, his hands pulling you to him. You straddled his lap, feeling his arousal brush against your core causing you to whimper before you could realize it. His hands massaged your breasts as your lips locked once again with his. You arched into his touch, moaning into his mouth when his thumbs ran over your already hardened nipples. Every little touch of his felt like an electrical shock throughout your entire body, he was driving you wild.

Your hands were tangled in his curls as you kissed, before you pulled back to whisper, “I’m protected, it’s okay.”

He nodded, already knowing somehow in the time you’d known him from differing conversations that you’d been on birth control since you were a teenager for issues other than for not getting pregnant.

You helped him get the shorts just enough out of the way before he roughly pulled your swim bottoms to the side, his fingers once again sliding over you before lowering you down on him.

You thought you were gonna lose it just feeling him inside you, stretching your walls in such a delicious way.

“Holy shit, Spence,” you moaned, your hips moving slowly, almost as if afraid to lose this feeling.

He hummed, his lips on your chest, hands gripping your sides. Your hands wound into the hair at the back of his neck as your hips rocked together, moans and pants filling the air. Your head was tilted back, eyes closed when he brought your face towards his again, kissing you desperately, tugging on your bottom lip and grunting as your body repeatedly rose and fell against his.

He was watching you intently, knowing him he would remember and relive every second of this with no problem knowing that mind of his. He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly, curses falling off his beautiful lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “I want you to moan my name.”

You bit your lip harder when you shifted the slightest, the new angle making your pleasure intensify that much more. In addition to his words, you were coming undone faster than you expected to.

“I want you to moan my name in that southern accent of yours,” he grunted, eyes never leaving yours.

The knot in your stomach was about to give and he could tell. His hips thrust upward into you wanting to send you into a glorious abyss.

“Oh god. Spencer.”

His name was rugged, breathless and drug out from your lips as you fell over the edge. It felt like lightning shot through your veins, your hands gripping his shoulders so hard you were sure you were gonna leave bruises on the poor guy.

His release soon followed, his face twisted in ecstasy, lips slightly parted as his head fell back against the side in time with the low groan that left his throat.

It took a moment for you both to still, your breathing hard while you chuckled, looking at him still leaning back against the edge.

“You okay?”

“Just stargazing,” he laughs, “Although you might have killed me.”

You grinned shoving his shoulder lightly, repositioning yourself so you were next to him and clothed once again.

“Did you know that-”

“Spencer I swear if you’re about to give me some statistic on sexual relations, I’m leaving,” you laugh.

“I wasn’t!” he laughed, “I was going to say, did you know that the first constellation ever described was in a poem written in 270 B.C. by the Greek poet Aratus.”

“Really?” You asked, laying back to look at the stars with him. You listened intently as he continued with his lessons in astrology.

In the morning, the rest of the team found you both in the kitchen, still in swimwear from the night before. There were surprisingly no comments but there were several suspicious looks, that is until Luke walked in.

“What were you guys doing in the hot tub for so long last night? I got up for water in the middle of the night and saw the light still on out there.”

“Oh nothing,” Spencer replied from his spot where he was pouring orange juice at the counter, “Just a little astronomy lesson. I was teaching Y/N how to see stars.”

He winked at you, just as Penelope walked in, noticing the whole exchange.

And as usual for the BAU’s Tech Analyst to never miss a thing she groaned.

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to burn that hot tub now!”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (34/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I’m about to sit down to write some new words for the first time in about a month, and @shireness-says​ has permission to yell at me if I don’t. Now to decide what exactly I’m going to work on 🙈

Thanks to my beta @resident-of-storybrooke​ for reading all of these words and being a super cool and supportive human being. 

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-/-

September ends without anyone ever really noticing. The weather seems to get the hint, though, the daily temperatures in the eighties dipping down to the sixties for the high, and suddenly New York no longer feels and smells like melting concrete.

In truth, it’s amazing.

Killian loves summer and loves the feel of the sunshine beating down on his skin as he spends his days standing out on a baseball field, but there’s something special that happens when the leaves begin to change and the air has a crisp feel to it when he walks out of his apartment in the mornings to go to do his workouts or to physical therapy. It’s nice not to sweat as soon as he goes outside, and it’s even nicer to have the feeling that washes over him to know that his team is in the play-offs.

That starts today.

Nervous energy radiates over Killian, more than usual, and he’s not even playing today. He can’t quite yet, but he’s been approved to practice again and if all of that goes well, he’ll be able to play during the Championship Series which means he’ll qualify to play for the World Series.

If those things happen.

He’s getting ahead of himself. He tends to do that, especially lately when so much of his life is wanting and waiting for the future, and Killian definitely needs to put on the breaks.

But the smell of cinnamon is wafting through his apartment, the television is playing pre-game shows for the start of the Division Series today, and Emma is wandering around in a pair of thick socks pulled halfway up her calves with only an oversized sweater on and her curly blonde hair falling down her back in all of its unbrushed glory.

It’s been a crazy two and a half weeks full of them dealing with the fallout from the article and all of the trickle-down effects from it. Everything has been difficult. He won’t lie about that, but things are calming down a little more each day. Walsh has officially been fired from ESPN, and while Killian was tempted to take back his decision to not sue after Emma told him how Walsh confronted her in his office, he did eventually decide against it. The man isn’t worth it.

Contacting his father to confront him isn’t worth it either.

Killian thought about it, paced back and forth in his living room for hours thinking about it, but like he and Emma (and Liam and Elsa and David and Anna and Robin and every other person he knows) keep talking about, they want a reaction out of the two of them. They want to hurt them, and reacting in any ways more than absolutely necessary means that the bad guys win.

His father is not going to win. He’s taken enough. He won’t take anymore.

And if the pattern of photographers slowly disappearing from outside of his apartment door is going to be a pattern that continues, he thinks things will turn out just fine.

What crazy path to have to go through to get to fine.

His phone buzzes on the counter next to where he’s whipping together some oatmeal raisin cookies, much to Emma’s dismay since she insisted on him using chocolate chips instead of raisins.

She’ll never learn.

Robin: Are you coming to the game tonight?

Killian: Yep. I’ll be there. You didn’t think I was going to miss this, did you?

Robin: Possibly. Roland is very concerned that you’re not going to give us one of your famous pre-game talks, and we’re going to lose.

Killian: Tell Roland that I am giving a speech, if you guys still let me, and then I will be in the suite watching with him.

Robin: We’ll definitely still let you. I can’t wait for you to come back. It’s been too long.

Killian: Aye, it has. Soon though. You guys have to win so I don’t have to wait until March to come back.

Robin: I’ll try my best but no promises.

“How do you feel about this for the centerpiece on your dining room table?”

“Hmm?”

Emma slides her laptop across the island to show him her monitor’s screen where there are several artificial pumpkins and faux foliage in a long wooden tray.

“What’s this for again?”

Emma rolls her eyes at him, and he can’t help but smile at her as he cracks an egg over the edge of his bowl. “You said you were thinking about hosting Thanksgiving here. Your apartment is a very ‘a single man lives here’ place. I was thinking you might need something to make it more festive on the folding table you’re going to have to bring in here to accommodate everyone.”

“It’s October fourth.”

“And?”

“It’s October fourth.”

Emma huffs and reaches over to the bag of chocolate chips (okay, so he broke down and is making some with chocolate chips for her but only some) and grabs a few, popping them into her mouth. “I am aware of the date, Professor Jones.” He sticks his tongue out at her for her use of Will’s nickname. “I can’t look at my game notes anymore without going crazy, so obviously I’m online shopping for you to distract myself.”

“I mean, obviously. What else would you do to waste your time away?”

“Watch TV or go back to sleep. I could go pluck my eyebrows or read a book. But then I won’t know when the cookies are ready, and that’s all I’m really here for.”

“It’s going to be thirty minutes. Technically, I should refrigerate the dough for a day instead of popping it in the oven right away. It makes the cookies fluffier.”

“Yeah, but that’s too long.”

“Give me ten minutes, and I will come and look at your decorations that you’ve picked out for Thanksgiving, aye?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Emma tells him as she gives him a mock salute and turns around to walk toward the couch, unceremoniously falling backwards down onto the couch so that her legs hang off the side.

Insane, wonderful woman.

Killian hums to himself as he finishes making the cookie dough, and even though he should let it cool for longer than this, he simply puts the bowl on a shelf in the fridge and turns the oven on, the number six flashing up on the menu to tell him it’ll be finished preheating in six minutes.

Emma’s still lounging on the couch, all of her attention focused on the pre-game show that’s on the TV and her fall decorations, and he takes the opportunity to lean down over her, pressing his hands into the soft material of the couch on either side of her shoulders and to dip his head down so that he can sweep his tongue into her mouth. She gasps at the sudden movement, even if she opened for him, and it causes him to smirk down at her as she shifts beneath him, giving him more space to settle between her legs with his knees on the couch. It’s a bit of awkward movement getting settled, especially with how Emma was laying down to begin with, but they figure it out soon enough as his hand snakes up underneath her sweater to feel the soft skin of her stomach and the firm flesh of her breast. He flicks his thumb against her nipple at the same time that he finally gets to sweep his tongue against hers once more, and he’s overwhelmed by the taste of chocolate.

She’s obviously been sneaking in a little more than he thought she was.

“How many chocolate chips have you eaten?” Killian chuckles as he palms her breast while her nails scratch just above the waistband of his shorts.

“That’s not important.”

He teasingly flicks her nipple. “But it is.”

“Nope,” she mumbles with this undeniable joy in her voice. “It isn’t.”

Sometimes he still can’t believe that Emma is his to kiss and to hold and to laugh with. There have been a million and one obstacles along the way, things he never even could have imagined, and yet they are still here.

Together.

Emma’s fingers dip between the waistband of his shorts, and he hisses at her touch before reaching his free hand up to tangle in her hair and kissing her with a purpose. She’s so damn soft and warm against him, every movement of her lips and her tongue sending a shiver down each of the vertebrae that make up his spine as her hands ghost over his growing arousal.

“Bloody hell, love.”

“That’s what you get for judging my chocolate consumption.”

He huffs against her and trails his lips over her jaw and down to behind her ear while his hand moves from her breast to lay flat against her stomach to keep her from writhing below him so much.

“You know I don’t like chocolate too much,” he says into her ear before biting down onto the lobe.

“But you like me.”

“Aye,” he chuckles before biting down a little possessively onto the skin of her neck right in a spot that he knows will show above the dress she’s wearing today, “that I do.”

“Don’t leave a mark.”

“I’m not leaving a mark.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not,” he whispers against the warmth of her skin while he purposely does keep working where she doesn’t want him to work at her skin. He won’t actually leave a mark.

Emma gasps in pleasure before moving her hands away from his waist and up to his chest to push at him. She’s strong, he’ll give her that any and every day of the week, but he’s larger than her and manages to press all of his weight down on top of her while he stops sucking a mark into her skin and simple laughs into her ear while his entire body rumbles with amusement.

“You,” she huffs, but Killian can still hear the smile in her face and feel her lips softly brush into the hollow of his throat, “are the most obnoxious man on the planet.”

“I know. I have the trophy in my bedroom.”

“Stop,” she groans, pushing at him again, and this time he listens, moving off of her and the couch only to pull her up with him. It’s probably a little too much on his shoulder, but Emma is a little slight thing and he’s feeling good this morning. She stumbles a bit when she stands, but he wraps his hands around her lower back and tugs her closer to him so that their chests are pressed together and Emma’s arms are loosely wrapped around his neck while she smiles one of the biggest smiles he’s ever seen that he absolutely has to taste. “You know, I thought this was going to go in a very different direction.”

The oven beeps behind him, and Killian dips his head down to pepper kisses across Emma’s cheek and over her mouth so quickly that every kiss is as fleeting as a whisper of air. “I had a timer going for those cookies that you keep complaining about. There was never going to be time for that.”

Her eyes roll as her fingers thread into the hair at the nape of his neck as Killian starts walking them back to the kitchen. “It’s not nice to tease a woman into thinking that she’s going to get some action and it turns out she’s only getting cookies.”

“That sounds like a euphemism.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Hmm, it should have been,” he laughs as he backs Emma up into the countertop so that he knows the stone is digging into her lower back. Killian squeezes her hips before running his hands down to her bare thighs and holding her there while his forehead presses against hers and their noses brush together. “I love you quite a lot, you know?”

“Funny thing, I love you quite a lot too. I also love cookies, so get on that, babe.”

“I thought you didn’t like that they were oatmeal.”

“I will literally eat anything. Also, I already ordered the centerpieces for Thanksgiving.”

“I expected nothing less.”

They spend the rest of the morning piddling around the apartment, not really getting anything accomplished before they both have to get ready to go. Emma, by nature of having to curl her hair and apply her makeup, takes much longer than him to get ready, so he straightens up a little before they leave. Emma’s things seem to spread like wildfire, and he’s not entirely sure she’ll ever be able to clean up after herself.

He doesn’t know how Ruby and Graham deal with it.

Then again, they don’t have to too often anymore.

A little smile creeps onto his face at the thought, his mind recalling Emma making a joke about them living together a few weeks ago, and that’s precisely when Emma walks out of the bathroom wearing a pair of skin-tight jeans with suede boots that go up to her thighs and a tight-fitting white sweater with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

“What?” she asks as she puts in a pair of dangling gold earrings in her ear. “Why do you have that goofy little smile on my face?”

“I was just thinking about how undeniably smoking hot my girlfriend is.”

Emma huffs and keeps putting her earrings in. “Those aren’t your usual eloquent words.”

“You’ve rendered me speechless today.”

Emma walks toward him, a sweet smile on her face, and leans down to press her hands on his shoulder and squeeze. “Good.”

And then she’s walking away from him with a pointed sway of her hips that has her ass looking absolutely spectacular. “Minx.”

“I try,” she yells from the hallway. “Come on, Jones. We’ve got a baseball game to go to, and I have to be early.”

-/-

They easily win the game against the Astros that night.

They also win the next night, even if it’s much more of a nail bitter. Killian swears that watching it from the sidelines is a million times more nerve-wracking than actually being an active participant. He feels every little mistake magnified, and his mind focuses on the mistakes more than it usually does. Instead of being able to compartmentalize, Killian keeps replaying everything to figure out how they could have done things better.

He can’t change the past, but there are always improvements to be made in the future.

Focusing on the entire game instead of simply his pitching changes the perspective, and he’s going to lose all of his nails if he has to continue completely watching from up in the family suite instead of getting to be a part of the action every few days. Belle and Ariel are fine to watch with and all, but it’s not what he’s grown used to.

The past six weeks haven’t been too terribly bad, at least recovery wise, but now that they’re one win away from moving on from the Division Series to the Championship Series, Killian isn’t sure that he can wait much longer to get back out on the field for something other than practice.

“Be patient,” Emma always tells him.

He’s trying, but it’s damn hard.

Off to Houston they go.

-/-

“Do you know we’ve been together for six months, and this is technically our first date?”

“And you only had to follow me to Texas for us to accomplish it.”

“You’re a very cheap date.”

Emma laughs as she hooks her arm into the crook of his elbow and walks a little closer to him while they walk down the sidewalk in downtown Houston. They’ve only been in town for two hours, and while the rest of his team is at the fields practicing for tomorrow’s game in what they all hope will be the last game of this particular series so they can get one step closer to the World Series.

He doesn’t even technically have to be here since he’s still on the injury list, and while the team didn’t pay for him to have a room at the hotel, he’s set in being able to stay with Emma.

So while the guys all work their asses off, he and Emma are free to wander around completely freely for the first time, well, ever.

It’s odd still not having to worry about anyone knowing that they’re together. He’s still accustomed to looking over his shoulder and around every corner for someone they know or for some inane photographer to be there. And while things are still a little crazy back home, no one is paying them any attention here.

And since Emma was very rudely heckled by a few fans (though that term is used loosely) at yesterday’s game, Killian is thankful to simply be able to get away from it all. They’re doing a damn good job at dealing with things, but there’s no need to feel the weight of the world on their shoulders – especially his if he thinks of it literally – all the time.

“So,” Emma starts as they dodge a slight puddle on the concrete, “are you still not going to tell me what we’re doing tonight?”

“Nope. I know how to plan an evening. You simply have to trust me.”

“I obviously trust you, you weirdo, but I’m curious. All I’ve figured out was that we’re not going to some stuffy restaurant, which was kind of a surprise to me.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re a romantic, Mr. Jones,” Emma sighs while she pats his forearm and rests her cheek against his shoulder. “You like to do things like get all dressed up and go to a candlelight dinner with wine and flowers and really expensive small food.”

Killian scoffs, incredulous. “That is not the only way to be romantic. Besides, we are not dressed for something like that. I don’t think they let in people with ripped jeans and white sneakers on.”

“Yeah, well, this is how you told me to dress. And you have on a plaid shirt over a t-shirt, so you’re not exactly dressed up either.”

“I thought you liked it when I dressed like this. Are you complaining?”

“No, Killian,” Emma breathes out, and he can practically feel the smile in her face, “I am not complaining. I simply want to know where we’re going.”

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to guide Emma along the sidewalk and follow the path that his phone told him to take. He swears that the GPS is leading him in circles and not to the destination, but then he sees the sign a bit of a way away and lets out a little sigh of relief.

“Swan,” he starts, stopping them in their tracks and placing his hands on her hips while a smirk stretches across his face, “you may not be a candlelight dinner kind of girl, but you are very much a smash old pieces of furniture up with a hammer kind of girl.”

Both of her brows raise high on her forehead. “What?” He nods his head to the building in front of them, and she turns around to look. It takes approximately five seconds for her to figure out. She spins on her toes and looks up at him with a smile that he swears reaches her ears. “I have never loved you more than I love you right now.”

“Exactly my intention.” He winks and places his hands on her ass, pushing her forward. “Now, come on, love. We’ve got a reservation.”

They hurry inside where Killian checks them in, and a woman comes out with safety equipment for them to slip into. They both look ridiculous wearing body suits and face masks to protect themselves from any flying shards of glass or pieces of wood from the broken downbroken-down furniture that they’re about to smash. Killian had simply been looking up things to do in Houston when he found this place where people pay to destroy furniture. Immediately, he knew Emma would love it, so he booked a reservation after texting Archie and making sure that his shoulder would be okay to wield a hammer.

From the absolute beaming joy on Emma’s face, he knows that he was right in his assumption of her loving this.

The room they get assigned to destroy is ironically a set-up of an old newspaper production office, and Killian is sure that Emma is very much pretending that all of the items in here belong to Walsh or his father or any other bastard who has hurt the two of them recently or in all of their years of life.

Smashing a hammer into a computer that has to be from the nineties is quite possibly the most cathartic thing that Killian has ever done.

Fuck Brennan Jones, Walsh Osbourne, Arthur King, and every other person who has ever hurt either of them.

And after the ten minutes of their session, Killian’s arms hurt from the exertion and his stomach hurts from the laughter of it all.

Totally worth it.

“Oh my God,” Emma breathes out when they walk out of the building back and into the crisp autumn air. They’re back in their regular clothes, sweat dripping down both of their backs, and their hair will likely never be normal again. “I take back all of my teasing about you having us go to some stuffy dinner. All of it.”

“Technically, there’s still time for us to go to one of those. It’s only eight.”

“Don’t even mess with me like that,” Emma laughs before pressing up on her toes to brush her lips over his. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to going to get something to eat.”

“I’ve got a plan for that.”

“You think of everything.”

“That I do.”

It’s a pie place two blocks over. He came here the last time they were in Houston and has been wanting to come back ever since. Pies usually aren’t his favorite thing, probably why he doesn’t bake them too often, but this place is downright delicious.

He’s also glad his workouts are back to being regular because the slices of rhubarb and key lime pie that he and Emma get are practically bigger than Emma’s head, and he fully plans on enjoying all of it.

Emma is taking large bites out of both her pie and his, as well as sipping on her mug of hot cholate, while telling him this story about David and Mary Margaret and how they have a penchant for going to karaoke bars on their date nights but usually only when they’ve had a few drinks. David is always willing to go, funnily enough, but Mary Margaret who seems like the exact type of person to enjoy singing songs and letting birds dress her in the mornings, will only go when she’s had at least two margaritas.

And for some reason they always sing We Are The Champions as if they have the vocal range of Freddie Mercury even when they’re not sober.

Killian would pay big money to see David Nolan, the perennial serious guy and protective older brother, willingly go and sing karaoke. In fact, he is very much offering to take the Nolans out one night when he gets more free time.

The smile that’s on Emma’s face mirrors the one she’s had all night, and Killian’s heart is suddenly struck with how much he loves her. She came into his life like a whirlwind, even if it was a slow going one, and Killian hasn’t looked back since.

It’s a funny thing. Love, that is. The world can be going up in flames around you with broken shards of glass having a trajectory straight to your heart, but none of that seems to truly matter when the person you’ve been vulnerable enough to give your heart to has a firm enough grip on it so that the cuts seem a little less deep.

Killian’s been in love before, and even though that relationship didn’t end well, he does know that it was love. But it’s not like this. It’s not this all-consuming thing where Killian can’t imagine living life eating pie in a diner with anyone else.

He’s known for a good while that his future, whatever it may look like, is going to be with Emma, but for some reason sitting with her and laughing with her while she’s got the smallest bit of whipped cream on the tip of her nose has truly cemented the idea in his mind.

And his heart.

Emma waves her fork in the air as she chews. “You’ve got that goofy smile on your face again.”

“I know not to which you are referring.”

She scrunches up her nose. “You’re thinking about David singing karaoke, aren’t you?”

“You know what, my love,” he sighs, “that’s exactly what I’m thinking about.”

“You know,” Emma sighs as she smiles at him with her fork full of pie, “that is a pretty good first date even though it’s not really our first date. I think I might like you, Killian Jones.”

Killian scoops up a bit of his pie. “Does that mean there’s going to be a second date?”

“And possibly a third, but don’t think that means I’m going to sleep with you.” She winks at him, and he can’t help but laugh. “A lady likes to be courted first.”

-/-

They win the next day.

Four more wins, and they’re going to the World Series.

It’s almost unreal, and yet it very much is real.

They’ve just got to beat the Red Sox first.

-/-

“Are you nervous?” Liam asks Killian two days later as he sits on the examination table in the hospital waiting for his doctor to come in with the results of his six-week follow-up MRI and the reports from Archie on how his shoulder’s movement is recovering.

He’s barely felt any pain in the past two weeks besides the occasional twinge, and while Killian has tried to tamper down the hope that things are going to be okay, it hasn’t worked. His mind is already imagining him underneath stadium lights standing on that mound with thousands of people cheering around him.

That’s one of the things that he lives for. Not the only thing but a damn important thing.

And he wants to be back.

He needs  to be back.

“Yes and no,” Killian tells his brother as his fingers tap against his thigh. “You didn’t have to come and wait for me, you know? I know you have your own patients.”

Liam shrugs his shoulder and sits down in the chair they leave for guests. “You said Emma couldn’t get out of a meeting at work, so I figured you’d want someone to be here.”

“I’m a grown man. I can handle going to the doctor by myself.”

“The fact that we’re in here right proves that isn’t true.”

“Ass,” Killian mumbles underneath his breath.

“I’ve made no claims to be anything else.” Liam looks damn proud of himself for having annoyed Killian, and it seems par for the course of things. “Are you surprised we haven’t heard anymore from Brennan?”

Killian’s teeth grind at just the sound of the name, but he quickly unclenches his jaw. “No. He wanted a reaction and more money. He didn’t get it. All that came from the bloody article was that I got followed around by cameras for three weeks and Emma had to put up with shit from men who are nothing more than assholes. Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking about it is all. Mom’s birthday is tomorrow, and that always makes me think of growing up, you know? I’m so much older than you and had such a different experience with them, and I do get a bit sentimental even if our father ended up simply being an over-involved sperm donor.”

“Funny, that’s how Elsa describes you.”

Liam reaches into the box of rubber gloves and snaps one at Killian only for him to catch it and for a smirk to slowly stretch across his lips. “And you call me an ass.”

“Being an ass is simply in our blood.”

“And yet two of the most incredible women in the world have chosen to spend their lives with us.”

Killian raises a brow. “Do you know something I don’t know?”

“No,” Liam chuckles, spinning in the chair. “I didn’t mean anything like that. Emma isn’t filing marriage papers or anything. I simply mean that the two of us, screw-ups that we are, have managed to get pretty lucky with both Elsa and Emma. It’s a big commitment to be stuck with a Jones man.”

“Ah,” Killian sheepishly sighs while reaching up to scratch behind his ear, “well, like you said, Emma isn’t technically stuck with me.”

“No?”

“No.” “And yet she wears mom’s ring around her neck. You hadn’t taken that off in years, and suddenly I see someone else wearing it.”

“Yep.”

“Yep? All you have to say to that is yep?”

“Aye,” he laughs, suddenly feeling a bit shier than he has in years. And it’s in front of Liam of all people. He hasn’t been shy in front of Liam in years. “Is that…are you upset about that?”

Liam’s brow pinch together, all of the lines on his forehead focusing in one place before they fall back to their normal spot and a soft smile graces his lips. “No, Killian, I’m not. I…there was a reason we each got the same amount of mom’s jewelry. She wanted us to give the pieces to the women we love. I’ve given pieces to Elsa, and you’ve given a piece to Emma. Mom would like that.”

“Would she? Do you think she’d like Emma?”

“She’d be obsessed with her. I think she may love her more than Addy and Lucy combined love Emma.”

Killian snickers as warmth spreads across his cheeks and his head nods up and down. “That’s a lot of love there.”

“There was a lot of love in her heart.”

His mouth opens to say something else, but then the door to the exam room is opening and Killian’s doctor is walking in with a clipboard and absolutely no emotion on his face.

“Do you want the good news or the good news?” he asks, and Killian’s heart leaps.

“Both.”

“Well,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, “as long as you continue to monitor your shoulder, you’re cleared to play again. Congratulations, Mr. Jones.”

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan #captain swan ff

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 31

Warnings: none

Tagging: @thorsbathroomchicken, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @valkyrie-of-the-light

“You know...” Esme says, a glass of white wine pressed against her lips. “...under different circumstances, this would have made a pretty good honeymoon.”

 They'd made a forty-five minute drive to a small town that sits on River Lagan. Far enough away from Belfast that Tyler is able to let his guard down. He's much more relaxed; nerves not as raw, anxiety no longer running on all cylinders. The worry is still there; he still observes the crowd, keeping an eye out for anything or anyone that seems even remotely suspicious. Guys like McMann have connections; their circles are enormous and their resources seemingly endless. He'd crossed a line earlier; gone way beyond just scaring the other man into giving him information. The rage had been intense. Uncontrollable. Five and a half years of holding back all the emotions that he'd been carrying with him since Dhaka had finally come to a head.  And he was certain that if Mark hadn’t have been there, Michael McMann would have met his fate.

 Now thoughts turn to possible revenge. McMann could have it if he wanted. Tyler knows that. He wouldn’t do the dirty work himself; he’d recruit a gang full of buddies to catch him when he was alone and vulnerable. Or he’d skip going after him and resort to escalating things further; going after Esme and using her as a pawn to get to him. She’s his weakness; it’s no secret.  Quite possibly the one person alive that is capable of truly destroying him.

 Intentional or not.

 He’s kept a close eye on her. Either tightly holding her hand while strolling the small downtown area or keeping an arm around her shoulders and her pulled tight into his side. Trying to tone down the over protectiveness that she often complains about it. She feels he’s ‘over the top’. That his need to keep her safe and sound borders on an unhealthy obsession.  Viewing it as controlling. Suffocating. A sign that he sees her as an object that he needs to keep tucked away from the rest of the world to avoid having her cracked or broken.  Tyler doesn’t consider it a bad thing; she’s the love of his life, his wife, the mother of his kids, what was so wrong with wanting to make sure that she was safe?

  It is a bone of contention between them,and has been for the past five and a half years.  The cause of over ninety percent of the fights they get into.  One of the main reasons behind their trial separation. She’d been sick of being treated like a possession and even more fed up with always being put second to the job. It had felt as if she were the only one putting in the effort when it came to keeping their marriage from falling apart; his long, frequent absences creating a wedge between them, turning her bitter and angry, tired of living a single parent life when there was no reason for it.

   The environment had been extremely toxic. He’d come home after two weeks away and they couldn’t hold even the simplest conversations without it turning into an argument. And then the mud slinging would begin. Trying to out do one another with the stinging, hurtful comments. The kids began to feel the tension; sleep issues, tantrums, regression in milestones. And that’s when she’d had enough. Kicking his ass out and issuing an ultimatum: their family or the job.

 In the end they’d ended up coming to a compromise. When she’d called him in the middle night after months of being apart and told him that she missed him and wanted him to come home, Tyler had been determined to make things right between them. He agreed to go to counselling. Swore off the heavy drinking that he’d began to use as a crutch. Would only take a certain number of jobs a month. Two weeks on, two weeks off.  It had been a hard sell to Nik; she wanted him available at a moments notice. If the phone rang in the middle of the night, he was expected to not only pick up, but pack his shit and get to wherever she needed him to be. It had been a long fought battle against her but he’d finally won.  Reminding her that his family was his priority and always would be, and that he wouldn’t think twice about walking away entirely and leaving her high and dry without enough team members. He could find other work. There were other people looking for guys with his particular skill sets. Ones that offered a higher cut when it came to payouts.  After all, he was well known. A legend of sorts. And there wasn’t a boss out there that would turn him away.

 “I thought we were going to Niagara Falls,” he chides.

 They’ve talked about it a handful of times; he always opted for a tropical destination while she insisted on Canada. Not that he has anything against the country or the people itself, but the idea of the perfect honeymoon did not include tacky museums and a huge waterfall. He wanted the beach. The ocean. One of those cozy cabana style suits built right on the water. Five years ago they’d never gotten the chance to have a honeymoon; he’d been recovering, she’d been pregnant with Millie. And once they moved to Colorado they’d been too caught up in being married and raising a family.

 “We could always do a week there and a week where you want to go too,” she suggests.

 “Yeah? And who watches the minions?”

 “Grandma is stepping up lately. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Don’t you think it would nice to get away? Just the two of us? We’ve never been able to do it before. I think we deserve it. Especially after all this is over.”

 He doesn’t disagree. The Belfast job has already been a major shit show and they aren’t even close to the finish line. But even this is nice; this small break from the job. Just the two of them hanging out on a restaurant’s outdoor patio; fresh air, a view of the river. Doing normal couple things like engaging in flirtatious chit chat, sharing little looks and smiles across the table, holding hands on top of it while browsing through their menus.

 “We have to work on us too,” she reasons. “We exist outside of being parents.”

 “I thought that was what all the sex was for,” he teases, and she rolls her eyes. “We’ll talk about it when we get home,” he promises, and squeezes her hand. “Let’s just get this over and done with, yeah?”

 “The sooner the better,” she sighs, and he nods in agreement.

 They settle into a comfortable silence; eyes on their menus, fingers still intwined, his thumb continuously rubbing across the top of her hand and the side of her wrist. He’s missed this. The little moments. When they’re just Tyler and Esme and nothing else seems to matter. It’s been a long time since they’ve been in that place. Somewhere along the line they’d manage to lose that connection; the one that exists outside of sex. Where they exist solely for each other and their identities going further than just being parents.

 “So what was that text messages about?” he asks. “’We found something’. What is something and who is we?”

 “Before I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t freak out.”

 Tyler’s eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

 “Do you really have that little faith in me? I haven’t done anything. Well, nothing too bad, anyway.”

 He’s starting to wish he hadn’t sworn off booze for the evening.

 “Yaz and I went to McMann’s house. He jammed the security system so it wouldn’t go off once we got inside.”

 “How did you even get in there in the first place?”

 She swallows a mouthful of wine. “Yaz picked the lock.”

 Tyler sighs. “So you committed B and E, basically.”

 “Technically, yes. But it was for a good reason! Nik’s been dragging her heels when it comes to getting in there and we’re running out of time so I just figured if he was able to both guarantee we wouldn’t get caught and could successfully pick a lock…”

 “How’d you know McMann didn’t have guys watching the place?”

 “Well…we didn’t…”

 Another sigh.

 “But we were really careful,” she assures him. “We kept an eye out. We didn’t see anyone hanging around and we were definitely not followed, so…”

 “So you broke into his house and…”

 “Stole his mail.”

 “Excuse me…what?”

 “I went through his mail,” she confesses. “I admit, not one of my finer moments.”

 He smirks. “You think?”

  “But I did come across something. All of the something’s.  Including a notice of assessment in regards to his last income tax return and a couple of utility bills. But…”

 “Esme…please…I love you, but let’s not turn this into a ridiculously long story that you could have told me in two sentences. What did you find? While you were snooping.”

 “I wasn’t snooping. I was looking for clues.”

 Tyler stares at her pointedly.

 “Okay, so I was snooping. But it paid off. I came across a letter. Handwritten. Snail mail. I think it’s from Heather McMann’s grandmother in New Zealand. Something about selling the business and how it’s sad things have come down to this.”

 “So?”

 “So it shows that there’s still ties to the family in New Zealand.”

 “Which we already knew because McMann told us,” he reminds her. “But go on.”

 “Maybe there’s some kind of connection. Between the business and whatever is going on here.”

 “You’re reaching.”

 “Anything is possible,” she argues. “You should know that. Is it really that far fetched considering how crazy and twisted this all all been since the very beginning?”

 She has a point.

 “It wouldn’t hurt.  To check out the grandmother. To see if she knows anything.”

 “Get Yaz on it. You’ve got enough going on. And the last thing I need is you running off to New Zealand and something happening while I’m thousands of miles away. So that’s it? You found a letter that may or may not mean something?”

 “Oh there’s more,” the excitement is evident in her voice; sparkles in her eyes. “While I was investigating…”

 Tyler clears his throat.

 “Snooping,” she corrects herself. “I found this.”

 She grabs her phone off the bag of her chair and pulls out her SAT, thumbing through the pictures until she finds the one she’s looking for, then holds the phone out to him.

 He removes his sunglasses, hooking them onto the neck of his grey button down shirt, then takes the phone from her.  Hair tumbling across his forehead and into his right eye as he studies the image on the screen.  “What am I looking at?”

 “It’s a chair.”

 “I see that. Why am I looking at it?

 “It matches the one that is in the photos that you got delivered to your old hotel room. The ones that Erin…or whoever the hell she is….brought.  In the pictures, the McMann kids are restrained in those foldable metal chairs. But Heather is in a wooden chair. That looks antique and is in impeccable condition.  Weird, right? Why are the kids suffering while she gets the comforts of home? Normally the adults get treated worse because they can take more punishment. See the cushion…” she stands up and leans over the table, using her thumb and forefinger to zoom in on the photo.  “…I am fairly certain it matches the one in the pictures you go.”

 His eyebrow arches. “Fairly certain? We need more than fairly.”

 “Well there’s no way of telling for sure until I compare it to the photos. But I’m at least ninety percent sure.”

 “Ninety?”

 “Okay, so maybe seventy five, eighty.  But I did my research on this chair. It belongs to one of only twenty five dining room sets made in New Zealand in the early nineteen twenties. It’s a mixture of cherry wood and gum wood. Extremely rare.  The set comes with six chairs but there’s only five at the McMann house.”

 His eyebrow arches once more, nodding slowly as he listens to her.

 “Now I don’t know how he wouldn’t notice that one of the chairs are missing. I haven’t even stopped to consider that. But doesn’t it seem a little too coincidental, Tyler? That one of the chairs is missing. Heather McMann was restrained to an exact match…or at least close to it…and she’s from New Zealand where the chair originated from and where her grandmother owns a store?”

 “What kind of store? Do we know?”

 “Second hand stuff. Mostly clothes and small household wares. But there is a section at the back that has rare pieces. Antiques.  Come on. I know you’re Mister Pessimistic, but even you have to admit this all tied together in some way. “

 “I’m not pessimistic. I’m realistic. What’s the chances that any of this is connected? We’re going to put all of our hopes into a chair? One that you just admitted you aren’t one hundred percent sure even matches the one in the photos I have. And even if it is the same chair, what does it prove?  How does it help us find those kids?”

 “It will prove that Heather McMann is running the show. That she’s in on it and not the helpless victim that she is pretending to be. Which means we can focus solely on her and digging up her skeletons. If we can one hundred percent pin this on her, we can track down her whereabouts through colleagues. Her grandmother. There’s no way someone doesn’t know where she is.  And Yaz said there’s no women’s clothes in the master bedroom and no woman’s things in any of the bathrooms.”

 “So she wasn’t living there.” Tyler concludes.  “Which means she didn’t go missing at the same times as the kids.”

 “Probably because she’s the one that came into the house and took them.  There were no signs of any struggle. Those kids weren’t taken out by force. They went willingly. And who would they trust enough to just wander out of the house with them?”

 “A parent.”

 “Exactly. If you were to wake Millie up at two in the morning, telling her that there was somewhere important you needed to take her, she wouldn’t argue with you. She trusts you. She has faith in you. She knows that you wouldn’t hurt or take her into a situation that could hurt her. She’d just go.  And I think that’s what happened here. She wasn’t living at the house, came back in and convinced the kids to leave with her.”

 “But who was staying with them? If she wasn’t living there and McMann wasn’t home at the time, who was with the kids? Were they alone?”

 “Maybe things didn’t happen the way he’s telling you. Maybe he gave a fake timeline.  I mean, he has been lying to you from the very beginning. What if she came in in the middle of the night? She’d have a key. She knows the code for the security system. If McMann was sleeping, she could have easily snuck in, went upstairs, woke the kids up and took them out of the house.  It had to be her. If it was a stranger, the kids would have kicked up a fuss and he would have heard it and put a stop to it.  Our kids don’t even like when strangers talk to them in the grocery store. They would not go quietly if someone woke them up and tried to convince them to leave. Mille would be liable to punch them in the throat and then scream for help. I mean, she kicked the shit out of Tyler and you know how he’s a little hard ass. If there was ever a kid to be named after his father, it’s that one. You have to admit; this is all starting to make a lot more sense than it did yesterday.”

 “It still doesn’t explain why she would do it,” he holds the phone out to her. “We still haven’t come across a motive.”

 “Money. Revenge. Maybe there’s a custody thing going on? Maybe she stands to lose custody of the kids so she concocted this elaborate ruse to make her husband look like he’s unfit?”

 “That’s pretty goddamn sick don’t you think? To go to that extent? You saw the pictures. What those kids are going through is real. It’s very real. What kind of mother would do something like that? What kind of parent would even think of a plan like that? Never mind actually following through with it. Letting people do shit like that to their kids.”

 ‘Well she’s obviously fucked in the head. And he’s no prize either.”

 Tyler gives a derisive snort. “In the pictures I have, you can see brick walls. Pipes. No windows.”

 She nods, sips her wine.  “Like an industrial building. Or a basement.”

 “Did you guys check the basement? At McMann’s place?”

 Esme nods. “It’s fully finished. No exposed brick, no wires, no pipes. Nothing.”

 “But did you check the whole thing? Every inch of it?”

 She frowns.  “What are you thinking?”

 “When I was growing up, my grandparents lived in an old farmhouse. It had a storm cellar. That you could only access from outside. Inside, there was no sign of it even existing. Did you or Yaz go into the backyard? Is there anything like that there? Any stairs leading underground? Any door that doesn’t lead directly into the house?”

 “We never thought of doing that,” she admits. “We were so focused on looking around inside.”

 “We need to go back. To McMann’s place. First thing tomorrow. We need to search it again.”

 “What about McMann? He’ll be home. How do we get him out of there so he doesn’t know we’re going on?”

 “I’ll put Yaz on that. He’ll figure something out.”

 “You think that’s where the kids are? In their own basement?”

 “Maybe not the kids. But maybe that’s where Heather McMann has been all this time.  This is all just a big fucking game to her.  One big sick and twisted fucking game.”

 “But where are the kids? We’re not closer to figuring out where they are. And that’s all that really matters right? Those kids and getting them the hell out of there.”

 “We find her, we find the kids.”

 “What makes you think she’s going to tell us where they are? If she’s this hell bent on destroying her husband…”

 “There’s ways of making people talk.  You of all people know that. You spent years getting people to talk.”

 “I didn’t have to resort to torturing them or beating the hell out of them, though. That’s what you’re suggesting right? Force it out of her? By all means necessary?”

 He nods. “If that’s what it takes.”

 *****

 After dinner they take a walk along the river,  in hand, enjoying the sunset and the cooler temperatures, immersed in conversation that for once didn’t involve the job or the worries and questions surrounding it.  A normal couple out for date night; light hearted teasing, flirtatious comments, sweet stolen kisses.  As if five and a half years hadn’t gone by and they were still immersed in that ‘getting to know you stage’.  Where everything your partner said or did was the most incredible thing you could ever imagine. They’d never had that. Not really.  They’d been robbed of that stage.  The second Fahrad had put the bullet in Tyler’s neck, it had altered every single aspect of their lives.  

  The small talk that couples indulge in while learning everything there is to know about one another had taken place in a hospital room or during the walks they’d take around the hospital grounds once he’d been strong enough to do so.  Or on the drives to various therapy appointments or consults with surgeons. And then she’d found out about the baby and they’d decided to speed things up;  finding an apartment to call home, having a quick and private wedding with only six people in attendance. After that everything seemed to fall into place and break neck speed; the second trip to Dhaka and their eventual guardianship of Ovi, having to move into her parents, the twins arriving a month before their sister turned one.  There’d never been really alone time. Quality wise. Those quiet moments where you discover things about one another that you’d either never noticed before, had previously overlooked, or had taken for granted. Their lives had revolved around being parents. Nothing more. Nothing less.

 So this is nice. A chance to for them to reconnect. Outside of sex. Even if…in reality…their relationship has always revolved around it. Right from the very beginning, when they’d been unable to keep their hands off of each other in that dirty hotel room in Dhaka. Sex was their ‘thing’; something they were both great at. An escape. A way to make one another feel good. Many a fight has ended because of it. Problems solved because with the sex came those quiet, relaxed moments afterwards when they actually took the time to talk to one another. But intimacy involves more than sex, and both of them had been craving it.

 “There’s something else I need to tell you,” Esme says, as they slowly walk back towards where they’d left the SUV parked by the restaurant.   His jacket draped over her shoulders to ward off the chill in the air, his arm loosely draped along her shoulders, hand on her upper arm.

 He sees the way people look at them; easily amused by the thirteen inch height difference.  They’re an odd couple; she’s short and petite and fragile looking, while he’s tall and broad shouldered and heavily muscled.  Powerful. Intimidating, even.

 He frowns. “I can tell by that tone in your voice it’s something I’m not going to like.”

 “You have to promise me that you won’t lose your shit. That you’ll hear me out. No matter how crazy it sounds to you. Can you do that? Keep your shit together long enough to hear everything? Because I know what you’re like, Tyler. You react first, think later. And I need you to do the opposite this time.”

 “Well considering you told me an hour ago that you broke into someone’s house and stole their mail, I don’t know how worse things could possibly get.”

 “You might regret saying that. Because this is just a tad worse.”

 He arches an eyebrow.

 “Okay, so maybe it’s a lot worse. But it’s for the job. Strictly for the job. So I can get information and we can start piecing everything together and find those kids. So keep that in mind. That what I’m about to tell you is strictly business and it is solely a means to an end.”

 “Should I be sitting down for this or….?”

 “Maybe? Yes?” she chews nervously on her bottom lip. “Yes. Definitely yes. You might be a calmer if you’re sitting down.”

 “Esme…I swear to Christ if you did something stupid…”

 She grabs a hold of his hand, tugging him towards the nearest empty park bench. “You should really sit,” she encourages. “You’re more relaxed and less likely to tear someone a new asshole when you’re sitting.”

 Sighing heavily, he reluctantly takes seat.

 “Okay…first thing is first…” she begins, as she sits beside him, turning to face him, legs folded underneath her. “…I love you.  More than I ever thought I could love another human being. So much that is physically painful sometimes.  You’re my husband and my best friend and my lover and my most steadfast supporter and the father of my kids and…”

 “This is going way worse than I thought it would.”

 “…and I need you to know all of that. It’s important to me that you know all that, okay?”

 “Okay. And I love you too. But you’re honestly starting to freak me out a bit here.”

 “Second, this is solely for the job. Just like all the other times in my past where I had to do some questionable things to get what I wanted.  I’m only doing this because there’s information involved. And people that possibly have even more information. Time is running out and we really need to find those kids before it’s too late.  You trust me, right?”

 His eyes are narrow, brow furrowed. “To be honest, I’m not one hundred percent sure right now.”

 “You remember that bartender? From the pub the other night? The one I convinced that I’m a reporter? Well he called this morning and wants to get together. He has info for me. And names. People that are higher up the food chain than he is. People that can give us a lot more than he can.”

 “That sounds like a good thing. Not a bad thing. So what’s the big deal? You go back there and talk to him. Simple, yeah?”

 “No. It’s not simple. It’s crazy and it’s messed up and you’re going to flip your shit for sure. He thinks I’m single.  I told him that I wasn’t married anymore and that I was separated and not getting back together with my husband. My pretend husband. Not you obviously. My fake one. So now he thinks this is a date. Me going to see him.  He thinks it’s an actual date.”

 He laughs at the sure ridiculousness of it. “A date? Like for real?”

 “It was the only way I could get information out of him. I had to make him think that I was available. And interested. To get him to let his guard down. So he called and asked me over there…to the bar…for dinner and drinks. And I know I probably should have ran this by you first, but you’d already left and I didn’t want to call you and bother you with it, so I said okay.”

 His eyes narrow as he regards her. “You said okay to going on a date with another guy?”

 “It’s only a date in his mind. Not mine. So technically…”

 “So he thinks he’s going to be on a date with you.”

 “Pretty much.  You’re too calm. You’re not freaking out. This worries me. Why are you so calm?”

 “Trust me, internally? I’m not calm. Not the least bit calm. Not in the slightest. What the hell is wrong with you?”

 “I had to get him to trust me. To get him to let his guard down,” she attempts to reason. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to do something like this.”

 “All those other times you weren’t married. You were single. Do you not see why this is a problem? Why you agreeing to this is probably the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard? You want me to be okay with you going on a date with another man.”

 “Why are you so caught up on the word ‘date’. It’s not a date. At least not in my mind.  I’m just using him. To get what we need.”

 “There’s other ways. To get what we need. This? This is fucked up. Beyond fucked up. How do you not see a problem with this? How do you not see how messed up this entire idea is?”

 “Okay, your face and your voice are relaxed but your words are saying an entirely different thing and it is really freaking me out. Can you maybe not internalize so much? I think I like the Tyler better that just flips his shit and that’s that.”

 “You intentionally told me this, in public, so I wouldn’t freak out. Now you want me to freak out?”

 “I’m just used to you being...I don’t know…you.”

 “Jesus Christ…” he mutters, and running and rakes both hands through his hair, then runs the palms over his face. “Of all the stupid shit you’ve said and done in the past five and a half years, this is the winner right here.”

 “We’re running out of time, Tyler. The clock is ticking. If we don’t find those kids soon…”

 “You don’t need to be going on a date to find the kids. Like what the fuck, Esme?”

 “It isn’t a date,” she insists. “Maybe in his eyes and mind it is, but to me it’s just a job. It has no bearing on us. On our marriage. It’s not like I’m going out there to intentional cheat on you. I’m doing this as a means to an end. That’s it.”

 “There’s other ways. To get information. Without having to whore out yourself to some fucking loser.”

 She frowns. “That was super harsh, Tyler.  You’re blowing this way out of proportion now. This guy has information that we need. He has names of very important people with even more information. People with connections. This is the one chance to get what we need. It’s business. That’s it.”

 “And when he expects more than dinner?” he challenges.  :What then?”

 “I tell him to fuck off and I leave.  You honestly don’t think I’d go that far do you? Give me some credit.”

 “Would you want me doing this? Going out with some other woman?”

 “If it’s for the job…”

 “Fuck the job. There’s lines that you don’t cross. And you’re crossing it. Big time.”

 “And you didn’t cross it when you called me asking for help?” she retorts. “And you didn’t cross it again by putting me in charge of watching your ass? I’m not G. I’m far from being G.”

 “Well he’s not exactly here, is he.”

 “You crossed the line first. When you brought me into this bullshit, Tyler. I was perfectly happy staying at home and taking care of kids. Our kids. You’re the one that called. Not the other way around.”

 “I needed your help.”

 “And this is me giving you my help.  This is what I used to do. I spent years lying to people. Getting them to open up to me and trust me.”

 “Was I one of those people? In Dhaka? Did that all start out as bullshit?”

 “I can’t believe you would even say that. Everything that happened there was real. I never once lied to you and you know it. So that’s pretty low, Tyler. Even for you.”

 Sighing heavily, he places his elbows and stares at his hands. All the callouses and scars, the misshapen and swollen knuckles from years of breaks and sprains. And he fidgets with his wedding ring; using his thumb to twirl it around his finger. A nervous habit. Or an angry one.  His shoulders are tight; tension spreading through his entire body. Eyes dark and stormy. That vein in the side of his neck throbbing; the thick yet short scar clearly visible. A long lasting memento of the one bullet that had nearly ended his life.

 “You’re taking this way too personally,” she says.

 “And you’re not taking it personally enough.”

 “You’re not looking at this objectively. This is all about the job. That’s it. I’m going in there to get the information and then I’m getting out. I’m walking out of there and I’m coming back to you. To my husband. That’s it.”

 “And I’m just supposed to be okay with it? You and another guy?”

 “There’s no other guy.  There will never be another guy. There’s only you. I’m not going in there with feelings for him. I’m going in there because we need to find those kids and he may be the only one that can help us.  Aren’t you sick of this? Playing these games? Constantly hitting brick walls? I want to go home, Tyler. I just want to go home and see our kids. And right now it seems like we’re just getting further and further away from getting there.”

 “This isn’t the way,” he argues.  “Sending you in there. With a guy that thinks he’s on a date with you. What if he expects more? What if…?”

 “I know how to say ‘no’. I would never…ever….do something like that. And the fact that you even think I would…”

 “Doesn’t mean he won’t force you to do something. You go in there alone, with no backup, and he has you right where he wants you.”

 “I’m capable of dropping a guy that needs to be dropped. I know how to kick someone in the nuts. You need to trust me. I know what I’m doing. I go in there, have dinner, a drink, get what I want and get the hell out. That’s it.”

 “Things are never that easy and you know it.”

 “Tyler…” she lays a hand on his back; between his shoulders, moving in slow, comforting circles. “You need to trust me. You trust me enough to watch your back. You should trust me enough to do this.”

 He sighs. “I don’t like this. I don’t like the idea of you going in there. Alone.”

 “Yaz says there’s ways to keep an eye on things. Or an ear on things, I should say. I can wear a wire. You guys would be able to hear everything that gets said. You could wait outside somewhere and listen in.  That way you’d know if I was in trouble or not.  You want me to have your back? Well now I need you to have mine.  No matter how uncomfortable the situation makes you.”

 He inhales sharply, exhaling as he shakes his head. “This is messed up. It is so beyond messed up. How did this happen? How did things get this fucked?”

 “How did things get fucked in Dhaka? They just did. At least this  time we have a chance to prepare for the shit show. We’re not just getting tossed into it. Maybe that’s the only good thing about how slow things have been moving. We actually have time to breathe and think things through.”

 “I feel like I’m going nuts. I feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s just so twisted and crazy and I’m starting to think my brain is just making half this shit up to fuck with me.”

 “Unfortunately, it’s very real. And I hate every damn second of it. But we need to stick together. We need to trust each other. We’re stronger together than we are apart. We always have been.”

 He nods in agreement.

 “I love you, Tyler.  Deciding this? To go about things this way? I didn’t do it to hurt you. I would never hurt you, you know that. And I love you and I just want to go home.”

 “So do I,” he says, and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulls her tightly into him and presses a kiss to her forehead.  “So do I.”

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