#honestly how fucking dare you. legitimately from the bottom of my heart

[seilon]

yet another night spent looking at top surgery places that take my insurance knowing damn well im trapped in this hell indefinitely just as I have been for like seven fucking years and there’s nothing I can do about it because it’s all in my mother’s hands despite the fact that I am turning 21 this year

#kibumblabs #I’m going to seriously fucking kill myself if this doesn’t end it’s been too fucking long and I’m so tired I’m so fucking tired #I was hopeful about T too and I was so fucking close I have the care plan and everything but I can’t go through with it unless it’s okayed #by her which it never fucking will be like I can’t believe this is still happening like I’m a minor who needs consent when I am twenty #with an extensive documented history of dysphoria I can’t fucking do this anymore but what choice do I have lol!!!!! #not to mention now is the perfect time to consult for top surgery because I won’t be in school again until spring so I’d actually have #recovery time if I could just fucking GET THE GOD DAMN SURGERY #uahshshdjdjdjffjfjjgjg #that ones even more concrete than T like you can’t fucking gaslight me on that cause it’s not all in my head #I mean neither is my reasoning for wanting T but top surgery’s to another extent #I’ve worn binders for literally years. I used to bind with ace bandages knowing they were horrible but too fucking desperate to care #that’s…. I just……how can you legitimately say to me that I don’t know what I want or that I don’t actually have an identity? #honestly how fucking dare you. legitimately from the bottom of my heart #I just constantly think to myself more and more I can’t take it anymore I can’t stand it I can’t do it anymore but I’m still sitting here #taking it. cause what the fuck else do I do. I mean obviously there’s only one way out of it but I’m not.. god #it just feels like mockery becuase it’s all extremely accessible to me I have everything I need to do both of these things and EASILY. she’s #the only thing in my way. literally the only thing right now that’s in my way. this an invisible wall fully made up of my own necessary #respect in order to keep living in my god damn house with my god damn insurance #well it’s almost 5:30am and im going to get a headache from crying who knows if I’ll be able to sleep with ythe sun coming up. doubtful #god I haven’t had the urge to cut in years and I won’t because it’s summer and I can’t get away with it w a jacket but boy!

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warning(s): smut/nsfw, cheating, cursing, angst, Y/N being a badass :)

Author’s notes: We’ll be honest...this chapter is a lot to handle 😂 which is amazing since it’s only Chapter 3 of many! We suggest taking a break throughout, because you’re gonna need it 😂 So much happens that your mind may actually explode from the drama. By the way, Jimmy is introduced in the next chapter so yay! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2

————

Paul took Y/N out to dinner that week, and they had a wonderful time together. It seemed that every conversation they had together brought them closer and closer, and Y/N was in pure bliss. From that point forward, the two became inseparable.

Y/N’s parents, however, were not super pleased that Y/N was seeing Paul, especially because they had warned her about the romantically-unattached musician’s mannerisms and habits not that long ago. They just decided to act like they liked Paul, so he wouldn’t get suspicious or feel bad.

Two members of The Yardbirds in particular (and I’m sure, dear reader, that you know who they are by now) were hit with pangs of jealousy whenever they saw Y/N constantly attached to Paul’s arm. And, to make matters worse, it was under any circumstance imaginable: parties, interviews, photoshoots, meetings, airports, train stations, hotels...the list goes on. Yes, they did spend plenty of time apart, but attraction can make a man think irrationally. Even though they were specifically and strictly told to keep their mouths shut, it was very tempting to just say the truth and end their misery. A part of Chris and Jim felt happy to see her happy, but another, traitorous side of them felt exponentially bad for her. They knew that she was being used by Paul as arm-candy, and they knew that she, of all people, did not deserve that.

But that’s the name of the game, unfortunately.

~~~~~~~~

18 February 1966

The Yardbirds were scheduled to perform on an episode of Ready, Steady, Go! that night, and Y/N decided to go and be a part of the live audience. She felt an obligation to support Paul and the band, since they were all friends (and a boyfriend, of course) now.

Before the show, Jim, Jeff, and Keith were all sitting on the stage, discussing the logistics of the rehearsals that would start soon. Y/N stood in front of the already-prepared stage and chatted with them.

“So what are you guys going to do on our days off next week?” Jeff asked.

“Spend time with my family,” Keith replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Not sure yet, haven’t figured it out,” Jim added.

“How ‘bout you, Miss Y/N?” Jeff nodded towards her with a smile. She answered with a soft giggle.

“I’m probably going golfing with my brother and a couple mates.”

“You golf?” Jim asked. She seemed to be getting more and more perfect by the day.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I’m bloody awful at it, but it’s fun, and I can hang out with my brother, so it’s a win-win.”

“You never told us you had siblings,” Keith smirked, tilting to the side and crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah, I have three. There’s Tommy, my older brother; Charlie, my younger brother; and Lillian, my little sister,” Y/N said.

“Wow, full house,” Jeff remarked, “I have a sister, Annetta, who I think you’d get along with quite well. I’ll have to introduce you to her soon.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I’d love to meet another Beck,” Y/N replied playfully. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a shame that I can’t spend time with Paul this week. He said he was busy, but he didn’t explain why,” Y/N sighed, “whatever. It’s probably legitimate, so I don’t mind. We’ve been hanging out too much anyway.” She laughed at the last part.

“He’s probably just going home to his wife,” Jim replied, thoughtlessly.

At that instant, everyone’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and lips downturned into a shocked, panicked frown.

“He’s...what?” Y/N asked quietly, sounding like she was about to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

Y/N noticed that Keith and Jeff were glaring at Jim, who was clearly embarrassed at what he had revealed. He hid his eyes with his hand.

When Jeff finally found it in him to turn away from Jim, he deeply exhaled. He then reached out his hands to touch Y/N’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Look, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out this way, and I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Jeff began, “but he is indeed married. I honestly don’t know why he wanted to pursue you, and I warned him against it because of how much we care about you, but he did it anyway.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, “he made it seem like I was the only one…that he was really in love with me...”

Jeff hated seeing his friend cry because of something he could have prevented. But, Y/N was somehow still beautiful when she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jeff consoled gently, getting off the stage to hug her, “here, let’s take you backstage to calm you down a little.”

Y/N refused Jeff’s kind offer with a shake of the head. Through her blurry, teary-eyed vision, she just plastered on a smile, and wiped the wetness from her eyes.

“Ew,” her voice cracked, “why am I crying? That’s so gross of me, I’m so sorry. I’m definitely making you guys uncomfortable.”

The three musicians’ eyes widened at Y/N’s sudden burst of emotional strength.

“Y/N, you just found out you were Sam’s side chick, and you don’t care?” Jeff inquired, genuinely confused as to what was going on with Y/N’s emotions.

“It’s okay to be sad, love. And utterly fuming with anger. I must admit, this situation wouldn’t be as dire if it were someone else, but it’s you,” Keith added. Jim just sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. His message destroyed Y/N’s heart and her innocence.

“I am sad, but if this ‘thing’ went on any longer, I’d probably be even more devastated. You saved me from a lot more unnecessary heartbreak, so thank you, Jim,” Y/N said. Her tone sounded completely numb.

“How are you gonna tell Sam?” Keith asked Y/N.

She exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lash out on him before being on national television.”

“How can you care about fairness? Don’t you realize what this man has done to you?” Jeff asked, anger interlaced in his voice.

“Yes, Jeff. I do,” Y/N replied stoically, “And I’ll be fine, really. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I’m just lucky to be here, watching you perform. What song are you playing again?” Y/N tried to change the subject, but on the inside she was in deep agony and pain. She poured all of this time and emotion and her body into this cute musician boy, just to realize she didn’t matter.

“‘Shapes of Thi—’” Keith began quietly.

Jeff cut him off. “Y/N, I seriously refuse to believe you’re okay. Please, just let me help y—” he started.

“Jeff! I’m fine! Seriously,” Y/N raised her voice a little, annoyed at the nagging.

“But you seem—” Jim began, barely perceptible.

“Oh my God, Jim, I’m fine!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t care. It’s done, it’s over.”

The three men sat in silence after Y/N’s sudden outburst of anger, which was very out of character for her. She quickly realized what she had done.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out on you guys. That was uncalled for, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna go to the loo, excuse me,” she said quickly, walking out of the scene before anyone could call after her.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N stayed in the bathroom for all of rehearsals, and she finally reemerged right before the broadcast was about to start, looking as fresh as she did when she got there. It was as if the news was never even brought to her attention.

She refused to make eye contact with Paul through the entire performance, even though it was apparent that he tried to get her attention with his eyes. Chris was just confused that she wouldn’t even dare to glance at Paul. Just a little trouble in paradise that he didn’t know about maybe?

After the show and when the band went offstage, Jeff went back into the crowd to check on Y/N and brought her backstage.

“You have to confront him,” Jeff pleaded.

“I don’t want to,” Y/N whined.

“You have to, or else he’ll bloody win! You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t want that for you either! He is the one at fault. You have every right to fuck him up for it.”

Jeff’s little speech gave her an impulsive boost of confidence.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Get everyone out of the room, though,” Y/N stated firmly, beginning to march down the hallway behind Jeff.

Momentarily, Jeff went into the room and rounded up Keith, Jim, and Chris, and filed them down the hallway into another room orderly.

As Y/N was about to enter the room, Jeff whispered in her ear, “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead.” Y/N smiled at Jeff before entering the room and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Paul warmly smiled at Y/N as she entered the room.

“Hello, love,” he said gently, “how did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N painted on the most genuine smile she could force. “It was...almost perfect.”

Paul’s eyebrow quirked as he smiled in a confused way. “Why almost?”

“I don’t think rehearsals went as well as I had planned,” Y/N replied smoothly.

“Why? Did something bad happen to you? You’re speaking in riddles, dear.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Y/N snickered, “it’s actually so funny that you bring up riddles, because that seemed to be the exact problem at hand.”

“What does that mean? Did someone tell you something you couldn’t figure out?” Paul chuckled, “You’re confusing me.”

“I figured out that you would be going home to your wife next week.”

All the colour from Paul’s face was drained in a millisecond, and his originally jovial expression was gone. It was as if someone punched him in the gut.

“Who...who told you?” he asked, panicked.

Y/N was taken aback. “I find out I’m your side-chick and you have the audacity to ask who told me? Not an ‘I’m so sorry that I lied to you and broke your heart, Y/N’?”

Paul huffed. “And you expect me to just keep my composure when someone of your gravity walks into the room for the first time? I really am sorry, Y/N, I truly, truly am, but—”

Y/N’s calm and quiet demeanor had left the building at that point. She was mad. Really mad.

“But what? You tell me how in love you are with me, and how I’m your one and only forever, just to realize that I didn’t matter? I’m going to be eighteen years old in March. Eighteen. What do I know about love? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And you chose to take full advantage of my emotional vulnerability.”

“But you did matter. You’re so special to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?”

“Don’t you understand that you have a wife? You never loved me. I was never special to you. I was just another fling. But you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“The life of a travelling musician is extremely difficult, Y/N, and you don’t get that,” Paul said severely.

“And that shouldn’t be used as an excuse. You know what? We’re done. Whatever this ‘thing’ is, is over. I wish you the best,” Y/N concluded as she walked out the door and sternly shut it.

The nightmare was over and Y/N was a free agent.

Before she could debrief about her experience with any of the other Yardbirds, Y/N left the venue, caught the first taxi home, ran up into her room, and cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

22 April 1966

Y/N found recovery time and solace in those two months without Paul. She didn’t go to any Yardbirds gigs, but she sporadically met up with Jeff, Keith, Jim, and Chris at a pub or restaurant to catch up over a meal and drinks. Chris had recently mentioned to her that they were playing in London on the 22nd, and if she felt comfortable, she could attend for free and get backstage to hang out.

Y/N said she’d have to think about it, but she’d definitely consider it.

She had realized over the course of two months that she was not truly in love with Paul. Yes, she fancied him, but she must’ve mistaken the feeling of being genuinely in love with the person for being in love with the situation. Y/N concluded that this relationship was the equivalent of living out one’s childhood dreams of a romance with their schoolgirl crush.

She decided that she was retired from dating for a long time, especially because of how this shitshow ended, but a miniscule piece of her wondered when and how she’d meet her other half.

In the afternoon on the day of the show, which was to be played at the Wimbledon Palais, Y/N made the reckless decision to take a trip down to the Yardbirds’ hotel, but not for the reason you might expect.

Y/N never got the chance to thank Jim McCarty for coming clean about Paul’s infidelity to his wife by “dating” her, and to formally apologize for ripping him at the Ready, Steady, Go! rehearsals. She felt bad for being so dismissive of him, because he was always so nice to her and apparently seemed to care more about her wellbeing than Paul ever did.

Y/N stood on the platform of the train station anxiously, meticulously scheming in her mind about what she would say to Jim to truly and genuinely express her gratitude. She thought about how the encounter would go all the way to London, and all the way on her walk to the hotel.

When she arrived at the hotel, she greeted the concierge, and took the elevator to what she believed to be the Yardbirds’ floor. She took an educated guess as to which room Jim’s would be, just by what she had seen in past times. Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

When the door opened, she realized that in her best interest, her guess was correct.

“Hi,” she greeted breathily, her fingers interlaced together in front of her timidly.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. After a short moment of awkward silence, he continued, “Um, what are you doing here? Not that it’s a bad thing, which it’s not, but…” he trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you something that I think needed to be said in-person,” Y/N said quickly.

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh, okay.” He moved out of the way of the doorframe so Y/N could enter the room, then shut the door gently behind her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckled, “make yourself at home.”

Y/N smiled and thanked him graciously, but shyly, as she sat down at a small couch at the edge of the bed. Jim was quick to follow her actions.

Y/N took a deep breath before beginning, “I just wanted to thank you for informing me about Paul in February. I know, it’s been a really long time since then… but I’ve needed some time to myself to think and refocus and recuperate, y’know?”

Jim just laughed. “You came all the way here to thank me? That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to do that.”

Y/N grinned. “I don’t know, I felt this obligation for some reason. And in addition, I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you as well. I was just shell-shocked, I guess, and I unfairly took it out on you and Jeff.”

“If I forgave you then, I’ll still forgive you now,” Jim smiled, “don’t sweat it. In all honesty, I was surprised at how well you took the news.”

“I just wanted to be as calm and composed as possible,” Y/N blushed, “but obviously I didn’t get very far, did I?” Jim laughed at Y/N’s little jab at herself.

“Well, you’re so quiet, at least you showed a piece of your inner self that night,” Jim teased. Y/N just beamed at him.

“You know, since I owe you, now… I guess I just need to live a little, y’know? I have this introverted shell I need to break out of someday, and I might as well start now,” Y/N offered with a chuckle. “So, with that being said, let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

“Oh no, that’s too much. You didn’t even cause me any grief,” Jim retaliated playfully, “thank you, Y/N, but I think you’re overthinking this whole situation.”

“Please,” she continued with a pleading voice, “I feel awful, and plus, if it makes you feel better, you’ll be helping me clear my conscience. Jim, I’ll do anything you want, no matter how crazy… I’ll take you jet-skiing, I’ll ride on a bike in a bikini when the temperature is below freezing, I’ll clean your kitchen… anything you want me to do, I will do.”

Jim grinned at the bizarre options Y/N gave him before contemplating her invocation for a moment. Anything, huh?

“Kiss me.”

“You said you'd do anything, no matter how crazy, yes?” Y/N didn't get a chance to finish, as Jim interrupted her with a hand at her wrist, and a flinty look in his eyes, that gazed right into hers.

“I did.”

“Well,” Jim continued, stepping ever-closer to the young woman in front of him. She looked just as beautiful as she always had, if not more. Jim was convinced she was perfect, and wanted to protect her. To treat her right, the way she deserved. “You could get on your knees, in front of me.”

Kneeling down on the carpeted floor, Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the glint in her eyes made his knees weak. She looked almost shy, and he couldn't help but send a comforting smile her way.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?”

She shook her head at this, and looked down, almost embarrassed. Jim, heart pounding in his chest in anticipation, reached out a hand to lift her head. Her eyes held trust, and a hint of nervousness, but her lips quirk up in a smile, her cheeks flushing.

“I’ll walk you through it, love.” The sound of a belt clinking to the floor reached Y/N’s ears, zipper following suit, and she couldn’t help the way she almost thrummed with anticipation. Her parents had warned her against exactly this type of thing. Musicians were, according to her parents, a fickle breed, who only wanted her for her looks and body. It hurt to think of it now, when Jim was being nothing but a gentleman to her. She wanted to break out of her shell, and maybe this was the way to do it.

Y/N looks to Jim and sees him exposed, fully hard now, and her cheeks erupt into shades of rosy pink. He was big, much bigger than she would have expected, and she smiled up at him.

“Okay, love. Open your mouth.” Y/N opened her mouth, sinking it over his tip, which elicits a strained moan, full of pleasure. His hand landed in Y/N’s hair, fingers clenching gently around the tresses. The light tug Y/N felt only spurred her on.

“That’s incredible, princess. Now, try and circle your tongue. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N did as she’s told, and it’s like a spell was put over the man. He craned his head back, neck bared, as soft whimpers fell past his lips. Growing more confident, knowing now what he liked, she let her teeth rake over him lightly, which worked more moans from him, almost breathless in his euphoria.

With a murmured “fuck,” he comes, Y/N’s name the only thing on his lips. She slowly released him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she stood. Jim, leaning up against the wall, was in bliss, heaving breaths and ruffling Y/N’s hair as she approached.

“That was… you're perfect, princess. Absolutely perfect.”

Y/N laughs, smile nearly splitting her cheeks, and she pressed even closer, pressing her lips to his in a soft, content embrace. She could taste the sweat on his lips, and she couldn't help but think that she could definitely get used to this feeling.

Jim revelled in the feel of her soft lips against his, and he was struck by the thought that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He’s where he wants to be, beside Y/N.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Somebody

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I never felt like this with somebody I never thought I'd feel like I do I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you I never had this rush in my body I never thought I'd feel something new I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you

Something 'bout you and the way we fit Like the stars in the night, heat of you on my skin Hadn't known you for long but it felt like years From the second we met I knew things would change

click here to be on the update list

PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!

NIALL

                                         A few days later, Devon and I had packed in silence. It was snowing and I kept glancing outside the window, seeing her from the corner of my eyes every single time. I knew I had been rough with her and I also knew that fucking her roughly against the wall of public toilets was a bad idea. At that time and with so much alcohol swallowed, It had seemed legitimate but now, I felt like an asshole and I had no idea how to handle it or what to think of it.

It was a good fuck, I wouldn't say different, but definitely not our best. I remembered the first time we had sex and the pictures she took, realizing she had never showed them to me, even if she had promised she would. Perhaps we had been so busy with our ex lovers and fighting with each other that we forgot about how amazing the few days alone at my apartment had been.

We remained silent a lot now and I hated it. I missed the sound of her laughter, her rambles and complaints, her comments while we watched a movie. The only thing I was still aloud to hear were the snores while she slept and I found myself sitting in my bed to listen to them a bit too much, and a bit too late at night.

I wanted to ask her to sit in the front seat with me in the car but I was scared she'd refuse and I was not even sure why it actually scared me anyway.

"Are you gonna ride with Lewis?"

"Mm, I'd rather ride with you." she admitted, glancing back at me before grabbing a hoodie and throwing it randomly in her bag. "Daxia and him are just getting on my nerves with their cute little nicknames and their non-stop affection. Did you know she sometimes pretends to purr? What the fuck?"

I let out a laugh and zipped my bag before turning around and letting myself fall on my bed to sit. "I know, I noticed. I think it's cute."

"Oh you would." Devon chuckled, shaking her head.

"What does that mean?"

She turned around to sit on her bed too, sending me a huge amused smile. It felt so good to laugh with her and feel like she actually cared about me that it made me want to lock the door and not go on that trip, keeping her here with me.

"The first impression you give is like, a fratboy." she admitted with a smirk. "Confident, a bit stuck-up, someone who brags all the time. Basically, you seemed to embody everything I hate in boys, especially those in college. But when we get to know you... you're a romantic, a softie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen in someone, and that makes you extremely endearing. That's why everyone loves you, that's the real reason you're so popular."

"Is it?" I just whispered, a bit shocked by all the compliments she had just thrown at me.

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod, sending me a fond smile that turned into a smirk. "Your face helps, too, I have to admit."

"Oh you think I'm handsome?"

She smiled more and tilted her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "You know I do. Everyone does."

I wanted her to get up, walk to me and straddle me. I kept imagining her sitting on my lap, facing me, before her lips would meet mine. I couldn't stop thinking about my hands traveling on her body and her moaning in my mouth. I wanted her to whisper to me that she loved me while I made her cum. It sounded like the perfect scenario but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had made it clear I wanted more than just sex, and she made it even clearer that she didn't want a relationship. It was a mess, we were fucked, and I hated this situation more than I could explain. I didn't know how to handle it or change it. We had reached a deadlock and I couldn't find a solution.

Louis kept repeating me that she loved me but the more time passed, the less I was convinced. Was it even possible to resist that feeling for so long, especially when the other person is always so close? It didn't seem likely and my fate in the reciprocity of my feelings was faltering.

"My first impression of you was that you were a shy and boring girl." I admitted with a chuckle. "That's why I wasn't sure why I felt so connected to you. I don't think being around people who thinks art is useless is something I could easily do. But you turned out to be so fascinating, talented, funny and genuine. You're also a little cheeky minx, and I love how you don't let anyone walk over you, especially not me. And god knows I tried."

Her lips curled gently and she looked a bit embarrassed but I was not sure why. She licked her lips before pressing them together and finally, she chuckled.

"That's something I had promised myself when I left my old school, that I wouldn't let anyone walk all over me anymore. That I wouldn't be this... this vulnerable, naïve girl with so little self-esteem." she explained with a shrug. "It's nice to know I partially succeeded, even if it's hard to save my own heart, sometimes."

"Sometimes we just don't know how to really save it." I explained in a low tone, looking in her eyes. "Sometimes we just do it the wrong way, you know?"

"I don't know, I'm just trying the opposite of what I did last time." she confessed. I could read in her eyes how sad she was and it broke my heart.

"How does it feel so far?"

This time, she looked up and stared at me for a few seconds. "Not good."

I was trying to find the right words to tell her that she should give us a chance without being too aggressive but I couldn't find anything and after a while, my phone beeped. I sighed and grabbed it before reading Louis' text message.

"Okay, Louis is here. I didn't even know he was gone." I admitted with a frown.

"He's been so weird these days, and absent too. He's always super busy and doesn't answer my text messages."

"I think he's got a girlfriend."

Devon sent me a sad smile and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't know why she seemed so sad about it but I didn't try to find out. It was already hard to accept that she didn't love me the way I loved her, I really didn't need to start being jealous again, at least not of Louis.

"Yea that's one of my hypotheses, too"

We both grabbed our bags and got out of the building quickly, walking until we both spotted Louis' car. I held my breath but my lips finally curled when I noticed a cute brunette sitting on the passenger's seat and glanced at Devon to see her reaction. She didn't seem to think anything of it but I noticed she moved slightly closer to me.

"Look, I got to warn you two, Daxia invited Mandy and Noah, and one of them invited Abby." Louis let out as soon as we got close enough.

I glanced once again at Devon and at the same time, she had glanced at me. We shouldn't even care about Abby at all but here we were, and I was not sure why she was so much of a threat to Devon. Of course, I would be suspicious of Henry only because he's her ex boyfriend, so I could understand the aversion she felt for my ex girlfriend but at the same time, if Devon didn't love me, why was it such a big deal?

"Hey, Dev." Louis let out gently, grabbing her attention. "We won't let that ruin our trip, alright?"

She nodded and pressed her lips together before taking a quick look at the girl sitting next to Louis and then look back at him. "I'm gonna ride with Niall, okay?" she let out gently. "Give you two some intimacy."

She just sent him a fake smile and turned around. I was about to follow her when Louis yelled her name and she turned her head and raised her eyebrows up. "I just... I'm offering you the first drink, okay?"

It took her a while but she finally just nodded and we walked to my car before hopping in it. She threw her bags on the backseat and when I started the car, she immediately reached for the heating button.

"What's wrong? What happened between you and Louis?" I asked as I drove, following Louis' car the best I could.

"He's distant, and annoyed with me." she just shrugged. "People tend to get tired of me at some point but I honestly thought Louis was different."

"Devie, Louis isn't getting tired of you." I just explained, shaking my head. "He's got a new girlfriend, that's it. He's never gave up on me and he honestly could have many times. That's not how he is, trust me."

She remained silent but sighed and turned to look by the window. I would have given a lot to find out what was happening in her head but I didn't dare asking. We weren't back to being close, and we hadn't talked about those rough exchanges of words, whether it was the one we had late at night in the dark street or the one in the public toilets of a bar, and I was not sure we ever would. We could pretend everything was alright all we wanted, it was a lie. She was sad and I was in pain, and pretending we were fine was not going to change anything.

"Apparently, Daxia and Lewis are going to ride with Mandy, Noah and Abby." she finally said, taking me out of my thoughts. She typed something on her phone and my heart jumped in my chest when It made me realize that we were going to be alone again for a few hours. "That's a pretty loaded car." she added with a shrug.

"Not our problem."

"Nope, not at all." she agreed, leaning on the bench and bringing her feet up, placing them against the door of the glove box.

I noticed she had taken her boots off and even if it should bother me, it really didn't. I was in it very deep and I was literally drowning.

"That means we could have gone with Louis, save fuel and a car." she added, turning her head my way and making me chuckle.

"There's no way I'm riding with him. Not in that car. Plus, look at how slow he is. We're following him and it's a pain in my ass."

This time, Devon laughed genuinely and it made me smile. "I don't even ski, you know." she pointed out a few seconds later. "I'm just going because I'm really alone for Christmas this year, but I don't think I'll ski or anything. I brought canvases and paint, I've brought a few books and movies.. I mean I'll join you guys downstairs for a drink at night or a hot chocolate but I've never really been sportive or anything... and even less when it came to sports practiced in winter."

"Alright, no ski time for you. You know, we only go to spend time altogether. Some of us just also likes to ski."

The conversation continued for a while but when it stopped, Devon put music on and I started singing despite myself and she joined me. At some point she just stopped and even turned the volume down a bit. It made me chuckle and I glanced at her only to feel my heart jump in my chest at the way she was looking at me.

"Did I annoy you?"

"No." she whispered, leaning her head in the bench, sending me a fond smile and shrugging. "I just get so many feelings when you sing."

My smile fell and I licked my lips. It brought so many questions in my mind but every time I wanted to ask one, I stopped myself, either scared of the answer or of the way it would make her react. Before I knew it, we parked and took our stuff out, following Louis and his girlfriend in the hotel. We were walking in the lobby when Louis moved closer to us without looking at us.

"Look you two don't be pissed but, I sort of put both of you in the same room." Devon frowned while I raised my eyebrows and Louis just groaned. "Don't blame me. First off, the rest of us are sort of in relationships. I think Abby's got a room by herself so if either of you want to switch room to be with her, be my guest. Anyway, it's not like you two weren't used to share a room, right?"

We stopped near the counter but neither me or Devon had mentioned anything. Louis turned to us this time and his eyes moved from me to her and he finally rolled them. "Look I'm sorry, I just honestly thought you two would be dating by now."

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly a bit uncomfortable, and noticed Devon bringing her shoulders up and wrapping her arms around herself, showing she felt pretty much the same. We had planned to meet in a few hours at the restaurant but it's only when Devon and I entered our room that my jaw dropped.

"I can... sleep on the floor if you want." were the only words my brain could form and express and it made Devon chuckle.

"Don't be silly, the bed's big enough for both of us." she replied, putting her bags near a side and taking her coat off before placing it on a chair. "Besides, it won't be the first time we share a bed."

Flashbacks of us cuddling in the bed of my apartment appeared in my mind and I blinked a few times as if it would make the memories even clearer. We had spent many days sleeping in the same bed but somehow, at that very moment, it felt totally different. I wondered if Louis had asked only for one bed for us because he honestly thought we were going to be together by now, or just because he's an asshole. Either way, it didn't change anything and I walked in the room to put my bags down.

I got ready to join our friends but when I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Devon in sweatpants with a book in hands. It made me frown and I grabbed my phone and my wallet, glancing at her.

"You're not ready?"

"Mm, no, I think I'd rather stay here." she admitted with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry anyway. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to see your ex girlfriend."

"Legit." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

She looked up from her book and leaned her head against the pillow behind her. It made me want to kiss her and tell her once again that I loved her. It made me want to stay in the room to spend the whole evening with her.

"No, thanks, that's very sweet of you." she let out gently. "It's late anyway, I'll probably be asleep when you'll come back."

When I came back, however, she was not in bed. I frowned, realizing the lights were still on, and found her laying on the floor in a fetus position. She had put papers on the carpet to be sure she wouldn't make too much of a mess and she probably had forgotten her easel because her canvas was on the floor. I smiled when I noticed she still had a brush in hand and even more when I realized she fell sleep using yellow paint.

I turned to look at her panting and finally noticed the shades of orange and red all over it before crouching down to have a better look. I couldn't explain how good it felt to see her use other colors than dark grey and navy blue, and it made me wonder what exactly it meant. I took the canvas slowly and gently, placing it on the desk in the corner of the room before walking back to her and getting on my knees.

"Devie, hey, come on, let's get in bed okay?" I helped her up and she groaned, leaning on me and still half asleep.

I brought her in bed, laying her down and she quickly curled up again as I brought the covers over her. I got undressed and got under the blankets too, turning my body her way to look at her, my head leaning on my pillow. She looked peaceful and I noticed dried paint on her hands and forehead, wondering how long she had been asleep. The whole time I was at the table with my friends, I regretted not staying in the room with her but somehow, I knew she probably wouldn't have painted if I had been there, and the result was totally worth it.

"Mm, Niall."

I held my breath when she whispered my name and something twisted in my stomach. For a second, I wondered if she was awake but she started snoring softly again and I exhaled when I realized she had literally murmured my name while sleeping. It was the cheesiest thing ever and at the same time, I had never heard anything that made me happier.

"Don't worry Devie, I'm here." I whispered back. "I'll always be."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan college au #niall horan au #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

[suits-of-woe]

Top 5 Edmund moments? Thank you!

Thank you! I can literally never talk about him enough and honestly it was hard to pick just 5 but honestly if I’d written any more even about these ones tumblr probably would have been broken by the sheer word count so here we go.

(edit: forgot to tag @princess-of-france if you’re interested)

1. “Call by the trumpet: he that dares approach / On him, on you, who not? I will maintain / My truth and honor firmly.” AND “In wisdom I should ask thy name / But…What safe and nicely I might well delay / By rule of knighthood, I distain and spurn.” aka The Duel

I don’t actually know if I’ve ever talked about this but I think this is one of the most likable in Edmund moments in the play. Reasons I love it:

a. He is SO ready to fight. This is what I was talking about when I said Edmund is such an impulsive disaster compared to other villains he often gets compared with, he doesn’t hesitate here, he’s ready to go. And you can’t convince me he couldn’t have found a way out of this – Albany’s all like “I dismissed all the soldiers so now there’s no one to fight for you” but like? This is the same Edmund who got a random captain to agree to kill the literal ex-king and his daughter (who’s also a queen!) basically just by telling him to man up; you can’t convince me Edmund couldn’t find a single champion willing to fight this super poor and sketchy-looking guy for him. But instead he’s all in, he gets into a fight or flight situation and his brain just goes FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT and he does it without a second thought. Amazing.

b. He really doesn’t care about status at all. Like sure it’s all well and good to dismiss social distinctions when you’re a bastard and have been disinherited for it but this scene shows it’s not just opportunism – Edmund SO believes in what he’s been advocating the entire play. He doesn’t care who he’s fighting, even now that he’s risen to the top, he knows the rules of knighthood don’t mean shit. He’s taken everything with the justification that if you can manage to take it then you deserve it and he doesn’t abandon that philosophy here, he sticks to it, even though it ends up costing him everything. How is that not so admirable? Am I actually supposed to not love him or?

c. I LOVE the fact that he clearly could not believe less in the idea of trial by combat. This is a me thing but it honestly makes me so happy. He’s lying through his teeth here with zero remorse, he’s 100% happy to let his innocence be decided in a fight all because he clearly thinks there is no divine intervention here. In his head there’s no reason why fighting for a just cause should have any impact on who wins, and even though the text goes against him on that idea…it’s still great. Because it’s not that he doesn’t have a conscience, he SO does as I’ll talk about later, but it’s not tied at all to to spirituality or the idea that he’s going to be cosmically punished for his actions. It’s all him, and I think that makes it so much more powerful.

2. “I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.” aka The Best Speech

*gasps of shock* Wow who would’ve guessed? But yeah. This is THE defining Edmund moment for me. (I put the other one first bc I’ve said all this stuff before so I don’t care if it gets hidden under a cut, but yeah, this is #1) Like I love it because it’s one of the few moments in Shakespeare that aligns with my irl beliefs without being cartoonishly evil, but also like, it’s more than that, this speech is just SO GOOD. It’s about the FREE WILL okay, it’s about the fact that he takes FULL responsibility for his actions, that’s my SHIT. But it’s also what makes him a villain because he has no delusions at all about what he’s doing, he knows it’s wrong and he still does it but like…I’m still so obsessed. And other things too, like the pointed, razor-sharp references to adultery are everything, I’d love to see this whole speech done as just a scathing and furious condemnation of Gloucester too…okay this is gonna turn into a whole essay if not careful but basically YEAH BEST SPEECH.

3. “Yet Edmund was belov’d.” AND “Some good I mean to do / Despite of mine own nature.” aka The Repentance

Anyone crying yet? I sure am. I had to include both of these quotes here bc “Yet Edmund was belov’d” is definitely another all-time fave but also it’s less of a moment and more just the one line and also I can’t justify not including the WHOLE CULMINATION OF HIS CHARACTER so yeah. Like okay though, sometimes I forget just how radical this moment is, but like!!! This is almost entirely unique in the canon. A villain who actually goes back and changes his mind and his heart and tries to make it right. But it’s not just that, it’s the way he does it, like I’ve been saying. It’s not because he thinks the gods are watching; it’s because he’s listening to Edgar talking about what he and Gloucester went through together and then he finds out that Goneril and Regan died for him and suddenly he remembers that there is love in the world and he was loved despite everything and just because it’s too late for him doesn’t mean it has to be too late for everyone and AHHHHHH. And he’s still pushing back against the limits set for himself while he’s doing it, he starts off the play rejecting the idea that the stars have any influence on his nature, but here he’s even rejecting that, defying the fact that he has to be one thing, he’s still fucking up his idea of the status quo even as he does this one last beautiful good thing. Just…holy shit.

4. “Yours in the ranks of death.” aka I Had To Pick At Least One Sexy One Cause I’m Too Sad

So this wouldn’t be an Edmund post if I didn’t talk about how hot he is. So yeah. This scene. Honestly this is maybe more of an iconic Goneril moment than an Edmund moment because she’s doing almost all the heavy-lifting dialogue-wise but still. I talked about this way more in that one post about how Edmund is lowkey a sub but the power dynamics in this scene okay, the tension. I’ve seen this scene done anywhere from a decently quick kiss to a full-on sex scene – the potential to get really intense is there. And I just love Edmund for it, he’s really out here, sleeping with a princess, making out with her on her husband’s doorstep – ICONIC. The BDE is just through the roof. Also for that line specifically I love how it comes back in 5.3 with “I was contracted to them both: all three / Now marry in an instant” akdlhglkhglaksdg. This is the peak Sexy Bastard moment.

5. “Now gods, stand up for bastards!” aka The Invention of Bastard Energy

Idk how Edmund’s most famous soliloquy is just making the bottom of this list, but I think I spend so much time defining my entire life around his second one and giggling at “Both????” in his third that I sometimes neglect this one a little. But it is That Good – it’s up there with the most iconic character intros in the canon. It’s everything. It’s so GREAT and VILLAINOUS like you get “Well then, legitimate Edgar, I must have your land” and all the set-up for him in all his smug evil glory and it’s HEARTBREAKING with the repetition of “Why brand they us / With base? With baseness? Bastardy? Base? Base?” like you can just hear how often those words have been thrown at him, how much they hurt and it’s SUBVERSIVE like we get Edmund’s whole philosophy here and we see he could give two shits about birth and status and he’s ready to turn the world on its head. My only complaint with this moment (or with any of these moments) is if Shakespeare really wanted me to dislike Edmund then he frankly did a terrible job.

#mine #asks #edmund #king lear

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 5 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Here we are, 4600 words later, because I don’t fucking know how to write succinctly.  Guest appearances by Auston Matthews and Frederik Andersen!

Morgan was hardly ever anxious.  He was usually cool, calm, and collected about most things, even on the ice.  Bad or missed calls by the referees,

He was officially nervous.  

It all started when Auston Matthews came over to his place.  Auston was in town for a few charity events he agreed to do, and on an off-day in-between, he went over to Morgan’s house to play video games and catch up.  Though they had spoken regularly, they had barely seen each other since the end of the season – just the occasional FaceTime.  It was good to be together again; good to be playing video games and shooting the shit.  

Then Auston got hungry and, well, everything went downhill.

“Dude, I’m starving,” Auston said, putting down his controller on the coffee table in front of him and springing up from his seat on the couch.  “You got anything in the fridge?”

“There’s some chips in the top right cupboard,” Morgan said, continuing to play the game.  He always had chips on hand.  It was his trademark.

“Any beers?”

“Uh…” Morgan honestly couldn’t remember, but at the same time, he was extremely close to getting his targeted kill count so he wasn’t exactly paying the most attention.  “I can’t remember.  Just fuckin’ check.  Go wild.”

Morgan heard the crinkle of the chip bag and the fridge open, Austin moving some stuff around.  “Um, excuse me,” Auston said.  “What the fuck is going on here?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Since when the fuck do you use Tupperware?” Auston questioned, turning to look at Morgan.  “You never use your Tupperware.”

“Matts, what the fuck?” Morgan digressed, pausing the game to look at his friend.  In Auston’s hand was the Tupperware Bee gave to Morgan for the leftovers of the fish tacos.  Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  “I use Tupperware.”

“No you don’t,” Auston said, looking directly at him.  “You made me buy it with you, and now we both never use it.  Why are you…” his thoughts trailed off as he connected dots in his head.  His eyes bulged out of his head when he came to his realization, his mouth even dropping a bit.  “Bro.”

“What?”

“Who is she?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  “What are you talking about?”

“Who’s the girl?”

“There’s no girl, Matts,” Morgan gulped.  

“Bullshit!” Auston yelled.  “You never use the Tupperware we bought, and now all of the sudden it’s being used in your fr…THIS ISN’T EVEN OUR TUPPERWARE!” he screamed even louder, feeling completely betrayed.  “Ours has red lids and this one is BLUE!  Is this her Tupperware?!  Oh my GOD!”

“Matts, calm the fuck down, for fuck sakes!”

“NO!  I can’t calm down!  Do you know what stage in a relationship you have to be to bring someone else’s Tupperware home with you?!”

“Seriously, Matts, you’re gonna have a hernia over Tupperware.”

“Stop deflecting!  Who is she?  What’s her name?  Why didn’t you tell me about her?!”

“Matts, please,” Morgan rolled his eyes, trying to brush him off.  

“Nah nah nah nah, I will shut this game off if I have to.  Either you tell me what the fuck is going on or I’m stealing your phone when you nap and finding it out for myself.”

Morgan looked Auston dead in the eye.  He knew Auston wasn’t bluffing.  Auston would go so far as to spike Morgan’s drink in order to get to the bottom of this is if he didn’t fess up.  “We met at a restaurant,” he practically mumbled.

Morgan couldn’t describe what Auston did next.  It was a sort of fist-pump into the air, but he was still holding on to the Tupperware container, so it looked like he was celebrating the Tupperware.  He practically threw it back into the fridge and slammed the door before running and plopping himself back onto the couch, forgetting the chips altogether.  Morgan rolled his eyes.  “You are honestly the fucking worst, Matts.”

“When am I gonna meet her?”

“Never if you keep this up,” Morgan answered quickly.  

Auston convinced Morgan to meet Briony.  Morgan prayed to every god imaginable that Auston wouldn’t embarrass him, or more important, embarrass Briony.  Later, when Morgan met up with Freddie, he begged Freddie to join them.  Freddie would provide some decorum at least.  It wouldn’t turn into a complete shit show.  

Freddie made a point in asking why, after only a month, Morgan didn’t put up more of a fight in denying Auston in meeting Briony.  Freddie understood how private Morgan was.  He understood how much Morgan liked his privacy, despite being a Toronto Maple Leaf.  He knew how much Morgan liked to be alone.  Everybody on the team commented on it.  Babcock commented on it.  The team doctors and physiotherapists commented on it.  Even the equipment guys commented on it.  And now Morgan had agreed to let Briony meet Auston, the most recognizable Leaf on the team…when he could have just said no?  

‘But I like her’ Morgan had answered.  ‘I mean, she’s going to have to meet everyone eventually, right?  Especially if this becomes serious.’

‘Usually people are honest and tell the other what they and their friends actually do for a living before getting a girl to meet them’ Freddie called him out.  Morgan couldn’t win because he knew Freddie was right.  But he made Freddie promise he wouldn’t say anything to Bee.  He agreed reluctantly, only because Morgan was a really good friend.

Were they moving too fast?  Morgan knew people who moved faster…much faster.  But were they?  It was a legitimate question.  It was just over a month since they had first met.  They’d slept together once after a few dates.  He hadn’t met Angie, Bee’s “person…you know, like in Grey’s Anatomy?  She’s my person” because she was currently in Kingston with her boyfriend Mason.  This would obviously be the first night she would be meeting any of Morgan’s friends.  He thought the pace was fine.

Okay, maybe he rationalized it because he really liked her.

Bee looked at herself in the mirror once again, the luxurious bathroom of the Four Seasons Hotel in Toronto providing good enough lightning that, for a second, she thought she looked half-decent.  She had on her work clothes – a pair of cropped, tailored pants, a flowy heart printed top, flats instead of her usual Tom’s shoes – and she couldn’t help but feel a little bit self-conscious about it all.  When Morgan said he had friends visiting in the city and they wanted to meet her, she readily agreed, thinking it would be something small at his place.  When he later told her they were meeting up at dbar at the Four Seasons Hotel in Yorkville…well, that’s when the nerves started to hit.  

She had agreed to meet Morgan and his friends at dbar, since they were all apparently coming from work and she was grading the last of the exams in the solitude of her apartment.  The fact that she was even going out during Labour Day Weekend was new for her.  She knew everybody in the city would be out tonight.  She didn’t like to go out on these types of nights.

Angie would always make fun of Bee for how much she liked being alone.  Bee guessed it was a quirk she had, something she developed while growing up.  When Bee was old enough to realize that her mother was an alcoholic, she would escape to her room (when she had her own room) and do anything to distract herself, sometimes even repeatedly doing her homework over and over again so she wouldn’t have to face her mother.  When she was old enough to leave the house, she would – she’d take a walk around the neighbourhood or sit aimlessly in the local park while her mom binged alone or with “friends”, preferring to be alone rather than witness her mother succumb to the alcohol.

It really solidified itself when she finally turned 16, when she won legal emancipation from her mother.  If she was going to do this – life – all on her own, then she needed to be focused, with no distractions.  And if she was going to make it, she needed to work hard.  And work hard was what she did.  Alone.  Nobody to support her, nobody to cheer her on, nobody to guide her.  She did it all by herself.  Alone.

Now Bee had to begin reconciling the fact that she also liked being with Morgan.  That she was willing to go out in order to be with him; that she was willing to go to places that made her slightly uncomfortable if it meant she could have fun with him.  It was a weird sensation, walking both sides of the feeling of wanting to be alone but wanting to be with someone else.  She didn’t know how to justify it – all she knew was that she would continue to.  

When she exited the washroom of the Four Seasons and walked around the building to wait in the lobby of the bar, she checked her phone again to see if Morgan had texted her.  He hadn’t.  She settled into the plush bench near the hostess, pretending to be on her phone.  She wasn’t going to dare approach her.  The hostess would probably laugh her out of the entire Yorkville area.

“Excuse me, are you Briony?”

Bee’s body stiffened as she looked up from her phone slowly.  She saw a man – a very ginger, very tall, very big man – staring down at her, a soft smile on his face.  He was dressed smartly: a pressed pair of slacks with desert boots, an unbuttoned collared shirt, a stylish sport jacket that fit impeccably.  He was completely colour co-ordinated.  Who was this man and how did he know her name?  “Uh…yes?” she squeaked out, still trying to take all of him in.

“I’m Frederik.  I’m one of Morgan’s friends.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, jolting up from her seat immediately.  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.  Morgan didn’t tell me your names or what you look like and I had no idea who I would have to look for and --”

“It’s okay,” he laughed, extending his hand for her to shake.  His hands were massive.  They were like mittens.  She was pretty sure they could wrap around her entire head.  She was also pretty sure he had a least a foot on her height wise.  Where the fuck did this guy come from?  “Morgan and Auston will be here soon.  Auston said they just gave Morgan’s car to the valet.”

“So Auston is the other guy’s name?” Bee clarified.  Frederik nodded his head.  “And you guys all work together, right?  That’s how you know each other.”

“Exactly.”

“How long have you worked in the sports industry?” Bee asked, trying to make small talk.

“The sports industry?” Frederik chuckled slightly.  “I’ve only been here since 2016.”  He nodded his head to motion for Bee to look behind her, and when she did, she saw Morgan making his way through the door, his typical slacks and button down t-shirt on.  She was starting to feel overdressed.  His companion, who she could only assume was ‘Auston’ walked in with a beanie and what could only be described as extremely-expensive-and-tailored-but-still track pants.  Track pants.  Bee felt like she was in the twilight zone.  Did Auston not know where he was going?  Were they going to be denied entry now?  

Morgan made a beeline to her, enveloping her in a hug.  Auston looked on with a bemused look on his face.  “So you’re Bee,” he said once she had turned towards him.  

He, too, had at least a foot of height on her.  She wondered if they planted themselves in manure every night to grow.  She’d heard that saying once and thought it was the most ridiculous thing ever, but seeing the sizes of Frederik and Auston – now she wasn’t so sure.  “I’m Bee,” she nodded her head.  “Frederik tells me your name is Auston.”

“So it is,” he smiled, shaking her hand.  “Morgan’s told me so much about you.”

Bee stiffened at the words.  “Good things, I hope.”

“He’s mentioned how good your fish tacos were once or twice,” Auston winked at Morgan, who looked like he was going to stab Auston right then and there.  “Good on you for getting this guy to go out, by the way.  Usually he just likes to be alone.  Have you ever been to dbar before?”

“No.”

“You’re in for a treat, Bee.  It’s one of the best bars in the city.”

As they made their way towards the hostess Bee earlier tried to ignore as much as possible, she watched as Morgan tried to discreetly elbow Auston and mouth to him ‘Behave’.  “Table for four please, under Auston Matthews.”

“Of course,” the woman smiled, clicking a few times on her computer screen.  “Welcome back to Toronto, Mr. Matthews,” she nodded, then turning her attention to Morgan and Frederik.  “Mr. Rielly.  Mr. Andersen.  Did you all have a good summer?”

Bee gulped.  What was going on?  How did she know who Auston was automatically?  How did she know Morgan?  Frederik?  Did they really come here that often?  Could they really afford to come here that often?  What the hell did she get herself into?

“The best, doll,” Auston smiled, the first to follow her into the restaurant.

They were seated much like she and Morgan were at Cibo – in a booth in a back corner where nobody could really see them unless they specifically walked that way through the restaurant.  Morgan sat on the same side as her in the booth, immediately grabbing her hand underneath the table and caressing it tenderly.  Frederik and Auston shuffled into the other side.  The waiter that attended to them asked if they all wanted their usual, which they all did, which made it awkward for Bee because she was still trying to get over how fucking expensive the cocktails were so she had to choose on a whim.  

“So Morgan tells me you’re getting your Master’s,” Frederik said in his soothing voice, and it was only then that Bee realized he had an accent.  “Where are you studying?”

“I’m at U of T.  I’m getting my Master’s in Financial Economics,” she explained.

“Where’d you meet Mo?” Auston piped up.  

She looked over at Morgan quickly.  “He sent a drink to my table in a restaurant.”

“He what?!”

“I did not!” Morgan denied emphatically.  “How many times…I did not send a drink to your table!  You got pranked!”

“You’re a lot smoother than I thought,” Auston commented.  “In all the years I’ve known you, you would have never done something like that.”  Auston turned his attention to Bee before adding, “He must’ve thought you were really cute.”

Bee couldn’t help but blush.  She thought the last word anybody would use to describe her would be cute.  “So how long have you known Morgan, then?”

“Well I’ve been in the Toronto sports industry since 2016,” he smiled, glancing over at Morgan quickly.  “Mo became one of my best buddies.  Showed me around the city, took me to all the good places to eat.  He totally became the dad of the group.”

“The group?  So there’s more of you?” Bee asked innocently.

“There is,” Auston nodded his head.  “You’ll meet us all in due time.”

Bee’s nerves quickly dissipated the more she got talking with Auston and Frederik.  She learned that Auston was originally from Arizona and that Frederik came all the way from Denmark.  Even Morgan relaxed the more everybody got talking, his stiffness making way for more relaxed body language.  They sat and talked for what seemed like hours.  The one time Bee looked down at her watch – 11:15pm – told her that they did talk for hours.

Bee was able to discern a few things about Auston and Frederik during her time with them.  Frederik was definitely more sophisticated (hello colour co-ordinated outfit), a lot calmer than Auston, and seemed to genuinely listen to what Bee was saying.  She appreciated his soft smile and the way he would roll his eyes at Auston.  Auston was definitely the playboy.  He seemed cocky, fun, and confident – definitely the guy you would want to show you a fun night out in Toronto – but still humble enough to know when to apologize, to say please and thank you, and to leave a very generous tip to the waiter after he picked up the exorbitant bill.  

As they made their way out of dbar, Morgan’s arm draped around her waist, she couldn’t help but notice the stares from other patrons.  She wondered if the same stares happened when they had made their way into dbar.  Stares made her self-conscious.  Stares made her feel like she wasn’t supposed to be there; that she didn’t belong in such a swanky, upscale, expensive place.  Stares like the ones she was seeing just made her want to be alone.  There was one part of her fighting to say she had the right to be there just like anyone else; but the other part of her just wanted to curl up into a ball.  

Right at the moment they were going to walk out, a man approached them with a giant smile on his face.  Judging by the way he was dressed, Bee assumed he was the manager or someone important to the bar.  “Matthews!  Rielly!  Andersen!  How are you guys?” he asked loudly.

“Hey Joe,” Auston smiled, shaking his hand politely.  “Good to see you, man.  It’s been a while.”

Joe moved on to Frederik and Morgan before focusing his attention back to Auston.  “You guys just heading out?  Was everything good?”

“Great as always,” Frederik offered politely.  

“It’s so good to see you guys again.  You make sure all the other guys know they’re welcome.  We’re gonna take good care of you guys this season.”

“You always do,” Morgan offered.

“Let’s get another one for the books,” Joe said, quickly taking his phone out of the pocket in his suit jacket and handing it to Bee.  “Do you mind?”

Bee was taken aback for a quick moment, looking at Auston – who was still smiling – at Fred – who was pursing his lips together, trying not to look at her – and at Morgan – who looked so anxious it was as if he would throw up on cue.  Why did he want a picture with them?  Why did he…why did he want a picture with them?  “Yeah, of course.”

They posed quickly and she took the picture, Joe the only person smiling from ear to ear.  Auston and Frederik were smiling politely but she didn’t think whatever was going on on Morgan’s face constituted as a smile.  She gave the phone back to the man quickly.  “D’you guys mind if I tag you?” he askd the boys.

“Go right ahead,” Auston said on behalf of the group.  “We’ll see you again sometime soon.”

Bee stayed silent as they waited for valet to bring Morgan’s car around.  Frederik was on his phone, typing away on the Uber app.  Bee kept looking at Morgan, who seemed to be avoiding eye contact.  She wanted to ask what that was about, but she didn’t want to ask in front of Auston and Frederik.  There were a million different thoughts running through her head, and she didn’t know which one to verbalize.  

“Am I…I mean, do you mind if I get a ride home?” she asked quietly.

Morgan looked at her as if she was crazy.  He squeezed her hand.  “Of course you’re getting a ride home.  God Bee, you’re something else.”

“I didn’t want to make an assumption.”

“I’d drive you to Vancouver right now if you asked me to,” he said quickly, and Bee knew he meant it.

“Mo-daddy, you gonna drive me home?” Auston chuckled, the over-priced alcohol clearly getting the better of him.

“No.  We’re going to take an Uber,” Fred answered for him.

“But Riles promised he’d drive me home!” Auston whined.

“Auston, we are taking an Uber,” Fred said definitively.  He looked at Morgan before looking at Bee.  “It was nice to meet you Briony.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Frederik,” she said politely, letting go of Morgan’s hand so she could hug him.  “Get home safe.”  She turned to Auston who had given up on his fight, though valet was pulling up with Morgan’s car.  “It was nice to meet you, Auston.”

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot of you,” Auston said, his filter apparently gone as he hugged her.  “Mo will eat anything you put in front of him, including an entire ice cream tub if you let him.”

“MATTS!” Morgan yelled.

“See ya!” Auston waved sarcastically, running away to hide behind Frederik.  Bee climbed into the passenger’s seat of Morgan’s car, watching Auston and Frederik as he drive away.  

Bee was silent as Morgan began winding through the streets of Yorkville, eventually finding his way to Bloor Street.  It was the first time she had been in his car, and she noticed the Porsche logo on his steering wheel.  She took a deep breath in.  Okay, so maybe they all made good money.  Great money.  Maybe they made enough disposable income that they could go to places like dbar regularly and get to know the manager.  Maybe they all had really good jobs and were able to go out on the town a lot.  Maybe they could all expense it to a company account.  And if there was a group, like Auston said, maybe there were a lot of them.  All going out on the town.  All expensing their nights to a company account.  

But they why would that guy want a picture with them?

She was so deep in thought that she didn’t even notice Morgan had already arrived at her apartment.  Bloor Street at 11:30 at night wasn’t as busy as Bloor Street during the day, she thought.  

“Briony…” Morgan’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Why’d that guy want a picture with you guys?” she asked, her voice a whisper. 

Morgan gulped.  There were butterflies in his stomach, knowing that everything would change now.  The night had been perfect up until that point.  It was now or never.  “Because uh…we all play for the Toronto Maple Leafs.”

He looked over at her quickly and couldn’t discern the look on her face.  “Like the hockey team?” she asked, as if there was another professional team in Toronto called the Maple Leafs.

“Yeah…like the hockey team.”

Bee nodded her head slowly, looking away from him momentarily.  She mulled over the new information in her mind for a few moments.  “So you, Auston, and Frederik…are you guys, like…good?”

Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.  “Some people say so,” he answered her question as diplomatically as possible. So it was adamantly clear she had no clue about hockey.  She had no idea who Auston Matthews was.  No idea about “Steady Freddie”.  Did he tell her she just had drinks with the franchise centre?  A franchise centre who had girls practically fighting their way to get his attention?  “So you’re telling me you’re the only person in Toronto who doesn’t watch hockey?  Didn’t watch hockey growing up?” he tried to inject some humour, hoping it would diffuse the situation.  

“Watching hockey requires having owned a TV growing up,” she said curtly, reminding him of the poverty she grew up in.  

This was going to be a harder conversation than he imagined it would be.  He was an idiot for thinking this would go smoothly.  “Briony --”

“So when you told me you worked in sports, what you really meant is that you’re a professional athlete.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” she asked, trying not to sound angry.  “I wouldn’t have minded.  Better finding out straight from you than from someone demanding a picture with you or an autograph or something.”

“You wouldn’t have minded?” Morgan repeated.

“No!” she exclaimed.  “Morgan, you’re still a person.  You’re a person before you’re a professional athlete,” she stressed.  “You’re…this whole time…this whole time…it’s almost been a month, Morgan.  How did you even hide it for so long?”

Morgan shrugged his shoulders.  “Luck, I guess.”

“The people at the restaurant where we met – they didn’t know who you were?” she asked.  He shook his head.  That one was actually luck.  “And Cibo – nobody knew there?”

“The guy who led us to our table, he knew.  He always handles, like, VIP bookings or people.”

“How did he know we were there?”

“When you were in the washroom, I told the hostess my name and she called him and he came right out.”

Bee huffed.  On one hand, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  She didn’t watch hockey, and she wasn’t in tune with the names, the news, the games and the trades, but she still understood how much the Leafs meant to the city.  She still understood their power and influence.  On the other hand, she should have known better.  The clues were there – at this point, they were glaring at her, so obvious that she could only think how stupid she was to have not picked up on them.

“Talk to me, Briony.”

She looked at Morgan.  “I just wish you would have told me earlier.  I wouldn’t have cared.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do people like…usually care?”

Morgan nodded his head.  “Yeah, they do.  A lot.”

“So, what was it?  You didn’t want me to care?” she asked.

“No!” he exclaimed quickly.  “No no, that’s not it at all.  I just…God, I feel like I’m digging myself into a hole here,” he sighed, trying to find the right words.  “A lot of people recognize me.  Most, actually.  So when the drink thing happened at the restaurant and you were like ‘what do you do’ and I clued in that you had no idea I was Morgan Rielly it just felt…nice,” he tried to explain as coherently as possible.  “Like, you were talking to me because I was…I don’t know, a guy.  A guy reading the same book as you.  You weren’t talking to me because I was Toronto Maple Leaf Morgan Rielly, and it just felt nice to be seen like that.”

He watched as Bee furrowed her eyebrows the more he tried to explain himself.  “And you feel you’re not seen like that enough.  As just a guy,” she used his words.

“Yeah.  Exactly.”

“So what happens now?”

Morgan got scared by those words.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, the mystique of you being just a guy is over.  Now that I know who you are…what happens?  Does this stop?  Do you move on to another girl who doesn’t know you’re Morgan Rielly?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” he said immediately.  “I would never…no,” he stressed.  “It’s not about that Briony.  It was never about the mystique or trying to fool you or anything like that.  Whatever bad thought you might be thinking, it’s not…there’s no way I would do that to you.  To be honest, I don’t…I don’t know what happens next.  The ball is in your court.”

He was surprised to see a smile grow on her face.  “What a pun, Morgan.  Shouldn’t it be like ‘the puck is in your zone’ or something?” she giggled.

Morgan couldn’t help but laugh too, realizing his words were so stereotypical for an athlete to say.  It definitely diffused the situation.  “What I’m trying to say is are you...I don’t know, okay with me being a professional athlete?”

“I already told you I don’t care.”

Morgan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.  How did he find this girl?  Where did she come from?  “Then this doesn’t stop.  I definitely don’t want it to stop.  Do you?”

Bee shook her head.  “No.”

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #alone together series

[distant-rose]

I just read the last chapter of Once and a Future Thing and it was amazing! I was wondering if you could maybe tell us or write about Beth's adjustment to the world and the rest of her family's reactions? Thanks so much for your awesome writing! I always love when you update Little Pirates and I always enjoy your other stories!

Notes: Okay, I owe you the biggest apology. This has literally been in my inbox for half a year? I honestly don’t remember when this entered my inbox but I know it was a long time, so long that whoever sent this probably forgot all about it. I wouldn’t be surprised. Anyway, I hope you can forgive me for how long this fucking took. I was inspired to work on the Jim and Beth reunion by @clockadile and I knew that I couldn’t work on it or post something new OAFT-related without doing this. Now, I don’t really have Beth adjusting to life in Storybrooke, so much as her family’s reactions to her return, namely Harrison’s because he is legitimately the sanest and most well-adjusted member of the Jones family, and I say that objectively. He is. So, I felt his POV might be best for this chapter or coda or whatever. Anyway, a special thanks to @shireness-says and @optomisticgirl for allowing me to spam them with this nonsense. I hope you enjoy it. There’s a bit of Arabic in it, but it’s translated at the bottom.Summary: Beth’s quest for vengeance against her boyfriend’s killer goes a bit haywire when she and her former best friend Jim Hawkins are sent into thirty years into the past. Now, they must figure out how to find a way back to the future without wrecking the first meeting between Beth’s parents, Emma Swan and Killian Jones. Rating: T+Chapters:  One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Epilogue | Coda IWord Count: 4,300+

–

The large clock on the wall said 6:30am and years ago that would have meant that it was way too early for him to be up, but Harrison Jones didn’t sleep anymore. Time had simply muddled together and all that mattered was that he got at least one cup of coffee on the hour or his brain was going to ooze out of his ears. He wasn’t quite what he was going to die from first – his heart exploding or exhaustion.

His fingers tap impatiently against the kitchen counter as he stared down the ancient machine gurgling to life. He never liked coffee, in fact he hated the very taste of it, but it become so integral to his daily functions that he no longer gagged at the bitter taste.

Feeling agitated, he began rummaging sluggishly through the cabinets in search of the sugar. When he found the container in the back of the spice shelf completely empty, he threw it against the wall while muttering dark curses under his breath. He knew exactly who was behind this crime against humanity. No one had a bigger sweet tooth than Wes and he had a tendency of finishing off products without replacing them.

He hoped his younger brother’s wifi wasn’t working this morning. The asshole deserved it.

Bitter and disappointed, he put as much cream into his coffee as he could. Taking a seat at the breakfast table, he picked up his kindle and began reading the last few chapters of his Ken Follet novel. The house was quiet at the moment and he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. As long as he had been alive, the Swan-Jones house had been one prone to chaos and any lull of silence was worth its weight in gold.

“Holy Christ, Harrison, you still live here? At twenty-seven? Jesus.”

The coffee mug slipped from his fingers, missing the table by a fraction of a hair and falling to the floor with a loud crash. Pieces of ceramic glass shattered as they made contact with the hard tile, scattering everywhere.

Harrison barely registered it.

He was too busy staring at a ghost.

She looked so much older and impossibly thinner than the last time he saw her, but there was no mistaking the green of those eyes and that riot mess of untamed dark hair. His sister, whom he hadn’t seen in three years, was standing in the doorway in a probably the most dramatic pirate gear that he had ever seen.

“خرة,” he breathed out in disbelief.

“What did you just swear at me?”

“In Arabic, yes,” he responded faintly.

“I’ve never been prouder of you,” she laughed merrily, tossing her hair over her shoulder. He continued to gape at her, unable to process what exactly was happening.

“I swear. Always have. I’m not a saint, despite what you all think.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father move past his sister as if everything was normal and ordinary. Without even commenting on the broken mug at Harrison’s feet, Killian Jones made a beeline for the coffee machine and made himself a cup. He offered no comment on the fact his long-lost daughter was standing in his kitchen.

“Are you going to just gawk at me like an idiot or are you going to say something?” His sister asked somewhat impatiently, crossing her arms in front of her chest and arching her eyebrow at him mockingly.

“You’re alive?”

“Did you think I was dead?” She snorted in amusement at the question, but Harrison didn’t find anything about this to be funny.

“Well, yes.”

“Well, considering I’m standing right in front of you. I can assure you, I’m alive.”

“Considering how sleep deprived I am, I was convinced you were a hallucination.”

She scoffed at him, stepping forward. She rose up on the tips of her toes and poked him between the eyebrows like she used to do back when they were kids; back when she was trying to get his attention away from his guitar. It was annoying then and Harrison found it even more annoying now.

“I can’t believe you thought I was dead. I’m insulted.”

“Well, I haven’t heard from you in three fucking years, Beth. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

“That’s…fair…I guess,” she replied. She took a step backwards, shifting on her feet uncomfortably. The move reminded him of when they were younger. She always did that whenever she was caught doing something she shouldn’t.

Simpler times.

Her eyes shifted back towards their father who was still leaning across the cabinets, watching them both with tired eyes. She seemed to be silently pleading with him.

“Don’t look at me,” he said to her as he took a sip of his coffee. “This is your hole to dig out of, not mine.”

“Thanks Dad,” she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“No problem, minnow. I told you this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“Yeah, you got that right.”

“Well, honestly, Beth, what did you expect?” Harrison replied, raising to his height and crossing his arms in front of his chest, anger fueling him faster than caffeine could ever have. “I hate to be repetitive, but it can’t be ignored. It’s been three years. Three fucking years. No phone call. No note. No nothing. You just vanished. As if it was nothing. As if we were nothing.”

“I understand why you’re mad. Look, I get it —"

“No, Beth. You don’t get it,” he interrupted, nostrils flaring in anger.

She flinched at his words, but he having a hard time feeling sympathetic. Her disappearance had nearly torn them all apart. He still remembered the sound of their mother crying in the back room of the police station, the amount of times he had to walk their father back to the house because he had drunk himself into a stupor on the docks waiting for her to come back and how they had put Ned through counseling because he thought it was all his fault. He could see Wes in his mind’s eye running himself ragged trying to find the right locator spell and how he had torn through her room trying to find a single strand of hair to use.  He could still recall the nights of he stared blankly at sheets of paper, unable to write music because his mind kept drifting back to her and the maelstrom of emotion she had left inside of him. His knuckles were still scarred for the times he had tried to beat his self-loathing and anger into a punching bag until it broke, and sand spilt onto the floor of his basement. She owed him at least seven bags.

“You don’t get it,” he repeated. “And you don’t get to say that because you weren’t here and that isn’t okay. This entire family almost crumbled when you left. Ned almost failed out his senior year and almost didn’t get into college.”

“Ned’s in college?” She whispered in disbelief.

“Yeah. He’s in his second year and if you were here, you would have known that!”

“That’s not fair, Har.”

“No. What’s not fair is that we’re still picking up the pieces that you left behind and now you think that can be just swept under the rug.”

“Harrison.” Their father straightened himself up, giving him a warning look. “Enough.”

“Are you kidding me right now? I know she’s your favorite but this is ridiculous! She broke our hearts! She broke your heart, Dad!  You drank yourself into the bottom of a bottle waiting for her to come back! You’re just going to let bygones be bygones?”

“I don’t have favorites, Har.”

“Bullshit. Look me in the eye and tell me if I pulled the fucking nonsense she did that you wouldn’t punch me in the face if I dare showed my face afterwards.”

A muscle in Killian’s jaw ticked and there was a dangerous look in his eyes, but Harrison stopped being scared of his father the minute he was taller than him.

“Don’t go putting words into my mouth, lad. I never said any of that. There is a time to address things. And that time isn’t now. Right now, let’s focus on the fact that your sister is home.”

Harrison worried at his jaw, glaring at him. He took three steps forward, away from his sister and crowded into his father’s personal space. Any other man would have shrunken away from a fight with a man of Harrison’s stature, but not Killian Jones. He met his son’s gaze with his own furious blue eyes, straightening his shoulders and refusing to backdown. For a brief moment, Harrison thought his father might actually punch him.

“Good morning everyone.”

The tension in the room was immediately cut by the appearance of Nasira. She gave them all a tired smile as she walked into the kitchen, their three-month old son cradled in her arms. Harrison immediately turned his back on his father and ignored the choked noises Beth was making in the background. His focus was on the love of his life and his infant son.

“هلتتصرفبنفسك?” She asked him, raising her eyebrows at him as she rose up on her toes to kiss his chin. He was making an effort not to be insulted by her insinuations about his behavior.

“دائما.”

She gave him a look like she didn’t quite believe his reassurances but didn’t say anything to him as she adjusted her hold on their son and turning to address his sister.

“Hey Beth. It’s been awhile. When did you get in?”

All three Joneses jolted at Nas’s nonchalance. Her tone held no underlaying sarcasm or anger. It was a friendly, casual remark, as if she were talking to someone that she had seen almost every day of her life. Killian nearly spat out his coffee while Beth stared at her, clearly shaken by the question.

“She got in this morning,” Harrison answered tersely, scowling still.

“توقف,” Nas responded, striking Harrison across the abdomen in reproach. She then turned her attention back to Beth and smiled at her. “Your brother can be an ass.”

“I’m well aware,” Beth managed to croak out, still looking a bit uneasy. “You’re too good for him.”

“Absolutely not. I can be an ass too. We’re just the perfect amount of ass for each other,” Nas responded with a laugh. “But how have you been?”

“Busy. But you seem to have been busy as well…” She gestured to the child in Nas’s arms.

“Yeah, yeah, I definitely have,” Nas beamed. “Between him and his brother, I’ve been very busy.”

“B-brother?” Beth’s eyes went wide. “You have more than one?”

“Yep! I had Sam nearly three years ago. He was a bit of a surprise, but we loved him so much that we decided to have another. We’ve had Kam for three months now and he seems pretty good, so I think we’re gonna keep him.”

“You have babies.” Beth looked like she was one second away from having a panic attack.

“Yep!” Nas responded brightly, deliberately ignoring his sister’s obvious discomfort. “They’re great. I would ten out of ten recommend.”

“I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

“Nas, my love, my jewel,” Harrison spoke up, giving Nas a tight smile. “I’m so glad you’re happy and proud of our children, but I feel the need to point out to everyone, because clearly seems you’ve all forgotten, but Beth has been out of our lives for three years. She left us. For three years. Without a word.”

“Harrison, my love, my sweet, gentle, understanding man,” she responded, giving him the same time smile and now speaking a sugary tone that belayed a message that was more steely than sweet. “I’m so glad that you’re happy for my happiness, but I feel the need to remind you that this is Storybrooke. We deal with all sorts of things from time-traveling witches, cursed gems, megalomaniacs and not to mention brothers who try to pull political coups to try and steal your kingdom. This family drama? It’s honestly just a blimp on the radar. We’re getting married. Your sister is going to be in the wedding party. I’m not having the groom feuding with his sister.”

“You guys seriously aren’t married yet?” Beth asked in disbelief.

“No,” they answered at the same time, Harrison sounding angry while Nas was wistful.

Beth immediately turned to their father. Killian merely shrugged his shoulders at her and sipped his coffee.

“I don’t know why you keep looking at me for answers. You’re all adults. I have no control over your decisions.“

“We just haven’t found the right time,” Nas replied, giving a placating smile.

It was then that Kam started crying and Nas began making shushing noises, bouncing him up and down in hopes of calming him. Harrison envied his infant son’s ability to be so free with how he felt. He wanted to scream too.

Harrison opened his mouth to make a comment but was stopped when the front door opened loudly, and a very familiar voice called out.

“Good morning Vietnam!” Wes shouted merrily, making his way towards the kitchen. Harrison winced at the volume, afraid that his brother was going to wake his still sleeping three-year old and their mother.

Wes seemed to be in good cheer, chuckling to himself as he swaggered in. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and the tightest pair of pants that Harrison had ever seen. The smell of cigarettes immediately filled the kitchen and it was quite clear that he had come to the house straight from closing up the bar.

The smirk died the second Wes’s eyes land on their sister. For a brief moment, the entire room was silent, save for the tail end of Kam’s whimpering. No one spoke as Wes stared at Beth. Their eyes met for exactly five seconds. Harrison counted them.

“Nope,” Wes said quietly, shaking his head and turning on his heel.

“Wes!” Beth shouted, stepping forward to run after him.

He stopped at the sound of her voice. He turned again to face them, his face pinched with concern. He tilted his head and took a tentative step towards her.

“Guys,” he said slowly, still staring at their sister. “Don’t get mad at me, but I think I might be a little high from getting hotboxed all night at the Hole…because I’m legit seeing Beth right now and there’s no way that could possibly be happening right now.”

Beth scoffed, rolling her eyes at him.

“Good to see you haven’t changed a bit.”

“She’s snarking me right now. Fake Beth is snarking me, guys.”

“Fake Beth is Real Beth and she’s five seconds from punching you in the face.”

“And now, she’s threatening me!”

“We know,” Nas snorted. “She’s real and we can hear her and so help me, Westley Jones, if you’re high around my children, I will castrate you with a rusty spoon.”

“Oh,” Wes blinked dumbly before turning to look at their father. “Dad, I’m going to need your flask, because…damn.”

“Sorry, it’s empty,” Killian responded, not looking up from his coffee. It was very clear to everyone in the room that he was lying.

“Okay,” Wes responded, drawing a shaky breath before heading towards the sink. "This calls for drastic measures.”

He bent down and took out the emergency bottle of rum that they kept behind the dog treats. He uncorked it and placed it down on the counter before grabbing a clean glass from the drying rack. He contemplated it for about three seconds before placing the glass back down and deciding to drink straight from the bottle. He took a long drag from it before turning to address them.

“Okay, good,” he said, smacking his lips. “Good. Now I can deal with this.”

“Are you going to share that?” Beth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not. You owe me at least ten years of alcohol.”

“I was gone for only three!”

“Yeah, three years plus the seven extra years I’m going to spend talking about this in therapy. Welcome home, sis.”

“You’re an ass.”

“So are you,” he replied, taking another sip. “It runs in the family.”

“Why am I not surprised that you’re taking this so casually?” Harrison snapped, feeling irritated.

“Well, to be honest, I’m still not convinced I’m not hallucinating right now and it seems kinda silly to argue with a hallucination.”

“Trust me, I thought she was a hallucination too, but I got past that pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, well, you’re more well adjusted than me. I’m a little mad at my subconscious right. I mean, seriously? My sister? Why couldn’t my hallucinations be more hot? Kate Hudson? Sienna Miller? Giselle? Something I could actually enjoy seeing?”

Beth moved forward and hit Wes across the shoulder. He let out a yelp of pain, massaging his shoulder and glaring at her.

“See? Not a hallucination.”

“God, I forgot how vicious you are.”

“You’ve gotten soft without me.”

“Well, it’s not like I have any good sparing partners. The last time Harrison and I fought, he picked me up and tossed me over the fence like I was Benny Booth.”

“Benny Booth?” Nas asked, frowning in confusion.

“The asshole who nearly knocked up our sister. Harrison threw him over a fence, except he didn’t quite clear it and Moe French had a fence with an ass shaped cut out for like three weeks,” Wes explained with a quirk of his lips.

“He didn’t nearly knock me up,” Beth scowled.

“Henry bought you a pregnancy test. He nearly knocked you up,” Wes volleyed back at her.

At that comment, their father spat out his coffee and began to cough profusely. Harrison gave him a healthy whack on the back.

“He did not!”

“He did!”

“He. Did. Not.”

“Yes. He. Did. Your eggo was almost preggo.”

“Ugh! Stop talking! To think I actually missed you!”

“You actually missed us? Wow, maybe you’re the one whose gone soft.”

“Beth?”

Their mother was standing halfway down the stairs, staring at her daughter the same way Harrison and Wes had previously – like she was looking at a ghost. Beth returned her gaze with one of her. This time she didn’t look self-assured, however. She looked on the verge of tears.

“M-mo-mom?”

“Beth? Is that you? Is that my daughter?”

Emma didn’t wait for an answer. She raced down the stairs, nearly tripping over the final step. The stumble seemed to wake something inside of Beth because she finally regained her senses and was scrambling past Wes to meet her. Their mother grabbed onto their sister’s arms and yanked her almost violently forward. Beth fell into her arms and a loud, almost inhuman sob sounded through the entire kitchen as the two embraced each other, rocking side-to-side in a forceful but erratic sway.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Beth’s voice was muffled by Emma’s shoulder, but Harrison could still hear her words as she kept repeating them like a broken record.

“You’re home” was their mother’s mantra. He could tell by the waver in her voice that Emma was also crying.

Harrison couldn’t stand it.

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He couldn’t handle this any longer. If he stayed, he was going to break something. His father and Wes’s easy acceptance of Beth had been hard enough to swallow but seeing their mother tearful and happy to see the daughter that had abandoned them was just too much.

Nas seemed to sense this.

“هلانتبخير?” she asked, looking at him in concern.

“Can you give me the baby?” he asked in a barely measured tone. “I’m thinking he could use some air.”

Nas studied his face for a moment, frowning. He briefly thought she might not comply with his request, but she gave him a curt nod and handed over their son without a word. Kam was whimpered loudly, clearly unhappy with being given over to his father.

“Thank you,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her cheek before making his escape.

While everyone was focused on the reunion between mother and daughter, Harrison made his escape with his son in his arms. He went out the back door and leaned against the deck railing, staring out into the backyard at the old rusted swing set. It had been a long time since anyone had used those swings and he tried to think of the last time Lucy had used them.

It was equally surreal and frightening to think that his own children would soon be old enough to use them.

“Do me a favor, bud, and don’t grow up too fast,” he murmured to the infant.

Kam stared up at him crankily but waving his arm in displeasure and hitting him across the nose. Harrison jolted at the unexpected contact, rearing his head back away from his son. He adjusted his hold so he could massage his injured nose. He felt equal parts proud and embarrassed about getting whacked in the face by a mere infant. It was almost comical.

“You might have more Jones in you than we realized,“ he mused aloud, trying to appease his unhappy son.

“Which is a bit shocking considering he’s your kid and you’re a helluva lot more Charming than you are Jones,” a voice called out.

Beth.

She was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest and looking at him with pensive expression.

“Aren’t you supposed to be chatting with Mom?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow at her.

“You know when you do that, you look disturbingly like Dad. Like really disturbingly like Dad. I didn’t really see it when we were kids, but I can see what everyone was saying now. You look a lot like him.”

“So I’ve been told,” he responded, eyebrow lifting even higher on his forehead. “And you’re avoiding the question.”

“I am,” she nodded.

“You know, when people ask questions, they kinda expect a response.”

“Those people should get used to disappointment.”

“They already have.”

Beth flinched, staring down at her feet and biting her lip.

“Look, I know you hate me, but —”

“Beth, I don’t hate you,” he cut her off. “I honestly wish I did. Things would be easier then. If I hated you, I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t have lost sleep worrying about you for the last three years. I wouldn’t have cried. I wouldn’t have let Nas stall the wedding for you.”

“Nas stalled the wedding? What!” She looked horrified.

“She accepted my proposal and refused to plan the wedding without you,” Harrison responded, trying to keep his voice even. “She said if you weren’t there, I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You can be sorry. I’m glad to hear it in fact, but that doesn’t mean I have to forgive you…”

“I know,” she sighed. “I know. And I don’t blame you.”

“I love you. You’re my sister and you’re always going to be my sister, and someday I’ll probably forgive you, but I can’t today. Not today. There’s been too much pain, Beth. I can’t just forget that. I can’t look at you without thinking about how Dad destroyed his liver over you, how Mom threatened the Dark One to find you and how they tracked to track you for years despite the fact you obviously bought protection spells against that. I can’t just forget that Ned went to actually depression and almost stopped playing baseball, which he loves more than life itself. Henry worried himself sick enough he had ulcers. And Wes? Wes was so focused on finding you, he forgot to shower and Gideon begged me to come over and literally force him away from his research. I can’t just get past that. I’m not like that them, I can’t forgive and forget like that. I know you guys like to call me perfect and if I was, I could forgive you, but I can’t.”

“Oh, Harrison, they haven’t forgiven me,” she laughed bitterly. “No one is letting me off the hook. They’re just in shock right now. Like you said, I’ve been gone for three years. Once that shock fades away, the anger will be there. Just you wait.”

“That anger is justified.”

“I know that,” she snapped, hot angry tears spilled down her cheeks. “Lord knows, I know that. I know I deserve it. I half expected to be disowned upon arrival.”

“We don’t do that.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” she replied, wiping her cheeks and turning away from him. “I’ve come to except the worst.”

“Expect the worst but hope for the best.”

“Hope is a very dangerous thing. Nothing worse than false hope.”

“Dangerous, but powerful. A little hope can go a long way, Beth. You’ve proved that, yourself.“

"You really are a Charming. You legit sound like Grandma.”

“I know you’re trying to mock me but I’m being serious,” Harrison replied, slightly frustrated. “The thing about hope is that…it can drive you, but it can’t take you all the way there. You have to put the work in too…No one is going to forgive you unless you actually try. Don’t just say you’re sorry. Show us you’re sorry. Until you put your money where your mouth is, nothing is going to get accomplished. I can’t forgive you until I see it.”

“That’s what Dad said…That the path to forgiveness…I need to put the work in.”

“He would know better than anyone else,” Harrison said gently. “And I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge.”

“Never,” she responded fiercely, eyes flashing with determined. And for the first time since he saw her, Harrison felt a flash of warmth. He had missed her fire.

“Good.”

He pushed himself away from the railing, tightening his hold on Kam as he did so. He made his way towards the doorway, his sister watching him warily. He bent forward and placed a brief kiss on her cheek.

“Nice to see you, Beth.”

“Nice to see you too, Har.”

–

خرة - shitهلتتصرفبنفسك - are you behaving yourself?دائما - alwaysتوقف - stopهلانتبخير - Are you okay?

#cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #cs au #little pirates #little pirates fic #my fic #my shit #a once and future thing #beth jones #harrison jones #wes jones #nasira sultana #kam jones

[bat-losers-inc]

Kintsugi: Chapter 6

Warnings: adult language 

Summary: Final Crisis/Red Robin AU. Dick admits Tim to a psychiatric facility after Bruce is lost in time. Jason finds him suffering at the hands of a Scarecrow-copycat and breaks him out. While safe in Jason’s apartment, Tim still struggles with panic attacks and drug withdrawal. At a loss for what to do, Jason calls Roy Harper.

Pairings: Jason Todd & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Roy Harper, Roy Harper & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Dick Grayson, Roy Harper & Dick Grayson.

Jason bolted out onto the hospital rooftop through the access door, jumping the pipes, ventilation ducts, and skylights as he made a straight shot towards the roof’s ledge. He slipped his helmet on and shot out his grappling line, catching it around an office building across the street before jumping. He didn’t fall for long as his line snapped tight, drawing him up and over to the other building’s higher roof. It was imperative that he get to higher ground if he wanted to stand any chance of an escape via the rooftops of Bludhaven. But he’d barely cleared the hospital parking lot before a Birdarang flashed in the moonlight above him and cut his line.

Jason sucked in a panicked breath as his heart flip-flopped into his stomach with the sudden change of direction. He curled into himself and performed a painful tuck and roll onto the harsh concrete of a lower roof, jarring his shoulder and rattling his head inside his helmet in the process.

Jason heard the zip and clang of a line being shot behind him and pushed up onto his feet, flinging himself onto the next rooftop with the aid of his spare grappling gun. Enough rooftop brawls with the big man in the past had taught Jason to always carry a spare, or two. It seemed that Damian had inherited his father’s dirty habit of line cutting. Jason should have guess that the apple wouldn’t fall far from the rotten fucking tree.  

He made it across five more buildings before something lashed around his ankles and tripped him up. He pitched face first into the concrete, smashing his helmet hard enough that his heads-up display dissolved into a flickering mass of pixels.

“Another one bites the dust,” he growled, chucking the helmet away and making hasty work with his knife on the cords around his ankles. Not quick enough, he thought, as he stood up just in time to duck one of Robin’s flying kicks to his now exposed head.

Jason flipped his knife around, slashing backhand at Robin’s neck and stomach. Damian lunged up under his arm and jabbed him in the armpit. Jason’s hand spasmed and his knife fell through his numb fingers and bounced on the ground between them.

Jason pulled a gun, but Damian was faster— his katana scratching at the unshaven stubble on Jason’s neck before he could even release the safety on his gun.

Jason stilled, breathing hard. There was no use continuing to try to run or fight, he knew they’d just continue pursuing him. “You owe me a new helmet.”

Damian shrugged one shoulder. “If you hadn’t run from us you’d still have it. I think that makes it your fault, not mine.”

There was a rush of air to Jason’s right as Dick landed in a swish of black material.

“Where’s Tim, Jason?”

He turned to glare at him. “Safe from you. I think that’s all you need to know for right now.”

Dick uttered a noise akin to a growl, his voice a deep rumble as he said, “If you’ve done something to him, Jason, I swear to god I’ll—”

  Jason used the gun to wack Damian’s katana away from his neck with a clang of metal on metal. He’d quickly grown tired of the sensation of it pressed against his skin. “Why don’t you shout my name a little louder, huh! I don’t think all of Gotham heard you yet. Wouldn’t want to leave out all those criminals in Arkham. You’d really make their day.”

“Is this a joke to you? I’m trying to find my brother.”

“What makes you think he wants to be found?” Jason countered.

“Tell us where he is, Hood,” Damian demanded, “Or I’ll get the information out of you another way.”

Jason caught the rise of his arm and leveled a finger at him, spitting, “Don’t you dare even think about sticking that katana back in my face, you goddamn chihuahua of a human being.”

Damian face scrunched in confusion. “Chihuahua? What the hell does that even mean?”

“Oh, I think you know. Yappy, stupidly aggressive, makes you want to punt them into the sun.” Jason smiled menacingly at him. “Now, shut up, the adults are talking.”

 “Oh yeah, you’re really proving to me that you have the welfare of the young in mind, right now.” snapped Dick.

Jason laughed harshly. “Oh, I see! You think I’m a horrible person for talking to the demon brat like that. Well, I think it might be a good idea for you to stomp down on that judgemental attitude right now, yeah Dickie? Because from where I’m standing, I don’t look so bad. I mean… at least I didn’t lock my teenage brother in a psych ward against his will and leave him there to be experimented on by a goddamn psycho scientist who gave him a drug problem!”

Jason really wanted to get in his face and shove him on his ass, but it seemed his words had the same effect as Dick rocked back a step. “A— What?”

“Oh, yeah. That shit’s on you. His ‘guardian’ who washed his hands of him the second he became too much of an inconvenience.”

Jason shoved Damian out of the way and went to retrieve his belongings, intent of leaving the two assholes he called family alone to sort out their shit without him.

“Jason, wait. I just want to understand!”

Jason looked back over his shoulder at Dick. “You want to understand? Go listen to Keselman’s tapes. Then maybe you’ll understand just a fraction on the nightmare that Tim went through  and is still going through.”

Jason turned and left, knowing it wouldn’t be the last he saw of his brother. He just hoped he could keep him away from Tim for a little while longer. Otherwise, he didn’t know what would happen.  

It was late morning by the time Tim awoke from his stupor, his parched tongue smoothing cautiously over the cracked skin of his bottom lip. He cringed at the coppery taste, like pennies. He found the glass of water that Jason had left by the foot of his bed and chugged down what little remained. Hearing the clatter of pans from below and catching the whiff of coffee in the air, he slipped downstairs on sock-clad feet.  Squinting against the bright sunlight coming in through the many windows along the first floor, he made his way into the kitchen.

He’d half expected to see Jason and Roy sitting on opposite sides of the kitchen table recounting fond memories over coffee and eggs, but all he found instead was Roy in front of the stovetop, flipping an omelette in a fry pan.  

“Where’s Jason?”

Roy flinched. The spatula jerked across the surface of the fry pan before he righted it enough to slide his omlette off onto his plate. It was only then that Roy turned to him, plate in hand, the air of forced nonchalance present in every feature Tim’s eyes landed on. What other more subtle emotions he was putting out, Tim couldn’t figure out at the moment (as it took more concentration than his brain could muster up).

“He went out to gather some intel last night but hasn’t gotten back yet. Probably decided it was just best to crash at another safehouse then hike it all the way back here.”

Tim hitched his body up onto one of the bar stools positioned around the table. “All the way back here? Where was he going?”

Roy cleared his throat. “Bludhaven.”

“So Breckenridge,” Which only served to highlight how his continued presence was in Jason’s life was complicating things. “Which is why you’re so worried, right? With Batman and Robin undoubtedly out looking for me, if they caught sight of him there last night there’s a chance he could lead them right to us.”

“I’m not worried about anything. Jason has evaded them before and he’ll do it again. Now, what do you want for breakfast? I make a mean omelette.”

Tim shrugged, food being the last thing on his mind. “Just coffee and toast.”

Roy tilted his head, pale eyebrows pulling together. “You need to eat. And eat real food, at that. How does scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice sound?”

Honestly, the smell of Roy’s omelette was starting to turn his stomach. He let a nauseated chill sweep through his frame and readjusted his damp shirt so it didn’t stick to his back.

Tim rolled his eyes. It was like the diner incident all over again. “It sounds like something Jason told you to feed to me. Tell me, do you always do whatever he tells you to do? Don’t you have a mind of your own? A cup of coffee isn’t going to kill me.”

“Yes, it will.”

Tim stared at him in disbelief until Roy threw his head back in silent outrage.

“Jason told me you were supposed to be some kind of genius, so I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.”

Tim sighed and rubbed hastily at his face, wiping the sweat from his upper lip off onto his pant leg. “Look… in any other scenario I’d love to show off my skills and figure out what you’re thinking, but I feel like death warmed over right now. So, just tell me. Coffee. Yes or no?”

“Seriously, kid? Don’t you know anything about drug chemistry? Even Jason understands this.”

Tim slid off the kitchen stool and stumbled his way around Roy to the coffee pot. “Yeah, no worries. I’ll get it myself. You just keep on talking.”

Roy yanked the pot out of his hands, coffee sloshing around inside, and shoved it back into the stand. “You’ve been having panic attacks. Adding caffeine into the mix might legitimately kill you. That’s what happens the minute you come off fear toxin and all those benzos.”

“Yeah, alright I admit there was a bit of an adjustment period, but I’m fine now—”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, huh? Whatever adjustment period you’re going through is far from over. ”

As much as Tim wanted to continue debating this point with Roy, he was worried that his persistent resistance to Jason’s rules would result in a change of living situations, and not for the better. He’d already learned on multiple occasions of late that this was a game he was doomed to lose with every hand he played. So Tim checked his emotions and stepped back, adding quietly, “Orange juice sounds great.”

Roy’s forehead creased. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you—”

“It’s fine,” Tim cut in, resuming his seat at the table. “I was in the wrong… like you explained.”

“No, really—”

The window over the radiator shot open and they both turned to see Jason clambering in through it, pulling a very familiar backpack in after him. He stood, dropping another broken helmet in the box with the others and addressed Tim in a slightly winded voice, “I brought some of your stuff.”

“Did you run all the way here with it?” asked Roy, as Tim took it out of his hands and peeked inside. “Because it sounds like you did. I thought you were doing extra cardio.”

Tim pushed past a few pairs of clothes to find his laptop, charger, and a jaggling mess of electrical components and tools in a pile at the bottom— from the way it was packed it looked like Jason had just swiped anything sitting out on top of his work desk into the opening without any knowledge of what it was for.

He sighed and moved the bag into Jason’s makeshift garage/workstation to sort out later. Maybe he’d be able to show Jason his gratitude by designing some tech for his bike.

He heard Jason as he came back into the safehouse. “Yeah, I doubled back and came the long way to make sure I wasn’t being followed. But look, I found it, it’s all in there!”

Tim rounded the corner to see Roy flipping through a familiar pocket notebook that set his hair on end, feeling for all the world like Roy was flipping through something deeply personal— like his diary, except he didn’t have a diary. He supposed if he did though, Keselman’s notes on Tim’s drugged rants and ravings would be the closest thing to what he’d put in one.

Jason pulled Roy’s plate across the counter towards him and started digging into it with silent and ravenous focus.

“Those are Dr. Keselman’s notes, aren’t they?”

Jason’s fork stilled on its path to his mouth and lowered as both he and Roy fixed Tim with an expression that was mixed equally with worry and guilt. It was one that Tim was noticing more and more, but it’s continued use didn’t make it any easier for him to stomach.

“I’m going to take your silence as a ‘yes’. When you’re done with that, I’d like to take a look at it.”

And burn it.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” said Jason.

“Why? I’m not going to find anything in there that I don’t already know.”

Roy shrugged at Jason. “He’s kinda got a point there, Jaybird.”

Jason snatched the bite of eggs off of his fork before waving it dismissively around by his head, “Fine, whatever you want. But if shit hits the fan then you’re cleaning it up.”

He moved to fill a mug with coffee from the pot. Tim watched him take the first sip from his standing spot by the couch, silent and ever so jealous of his health compared to his own.

“By the way,” Jason took another sip, “How did you two get on without me? Any problems so far?”

“Uh—” Roy hesitated and cast a questioning look at Tim. “Well, actually Jason—”

“Yeah, really good actually,” Tim forced a smile and shook his head ever so slightly at Roy. “Roy’s already giving out some sound advice. Kinda feels like I have another big brother.”

Another person to watch out for, that is. He felt horrible for thinking it because he knew if given some time he’d probably learn to like Roy— maybe even value his opinions. But as it stood at the moment Tim just couldn’t trust him to speak on his behalf. One hiccup in their current plans or a wrong comment to Jason could mess up the only good thing Tim had going for him. So Roy would just have to play along and fake it until it was actually true, his conscience be damned.

Jason smiled, looking eagerly between them. “So, does that mean what I think it means? You’ll sponsor him?”

Roy crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Just for a week or so, until Tim’s back on steady ground and can find another sponsor here in Gotham.”

Jason laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “You big softie.”

Tim scratched at his arm, stepping a little closer. “Hey, Jason? I’m not feeling so hot this morning and I’m kinda worried about what that’s going to lead to later on. Do you think I could take something just to ease the symptoms a bit?”

Roy coughed into his fist.  

Tim continued on hurridley, “I know you guys are worried about the dosages still, but you also talked about seizures and heart attacks and I think even just half a pill would push those worries from my head, you know?”

Jason and Roy seemed to hold a silent conversation with just a few shared glances at each other, before Jason turned back to Tim with an uneasy smile. “Yeah, I totally understand what you’re saying, Tim. But it’ll only take us a few hours to look over these notes and map out a solid step-down routine. And if we do, then we can start that step-down today and knock off an extra day where you feel like shit, you get me?”

“Yeah, no. I totally understand.” Tim tried for a smile and felt it twitch with strain. He rubbed at his mouth in an effort to cover it.

“So you think you can make it a few more hours?” prompted Jason in that soft careful voice that set Tim’s nerves on end instead of calming them.

“Yeah, um— I think I’m just gonna go sort through that stuff you brought back and see if I can make anything useful from it.”   

“Great idea,” said Roy. “Keep your mind occupied.”

Tim nodded hasilty and shuffled out of the room. He shut the door to the loading dock, relieved to have a barrier between Jason and Roy’s ever watching, ever critical eyes. Tim found one of Jason’s spare leather jackets hung up on a peg by the door and pulled it around his shoulders to block off the chill in the air that was sending him into bouts of shivers despite the sweat wetting the baby hairs at the back of his neck.  

He pulled out the stool in front of Jason’s workbench and perched himself on top of it, drawing his backpack into his lap to rifle through it. He pulled out his clothes and laptop first, pushing them off to the side to bring inside later. Then he upturned his backpack over the workbench, dropping a cascade of tools and electrical parts onto the tabletop. Tim shook the bag for any lingering pieces and then slipped his stack of clothes back inside to keep them clean from the dust and grease that stained the workbench from Jason’s previous projects.

Rummaging through a few of the drawers, he found a beaten up notebook and a stub of a pencil which he used to create a quick inventory of parts and tools, sorting each into its own pile. He checked the time on the old clock on the far wall, his heart sinking as he realized only a half hour had elapsed. Grumbling to himself, he dove into sketching some new gadgets, drawing on some old tech he’d put into the R-cycle during his years with the Titans— his leg bouncing against the bottom rung of the stool the entire time. All the while his ears were perked towards the inner rooms of the safehouse, eager for the sound of Jason’s approaching footsteps to signal the finalization of his new step-down plan.

Another hour passed and still it didn’t come. Tim threw his pencil down and rested his aching head against the table top with a groan. Keep your mind occupied? Fuck that, it felt like his head was going to crack in half like an egg.

Tim pulled his laptop over toward him, telling himself it was routine updating he was doing as he pulled up his criminal database and pinpointed their current location, scrolling around in a five mile radius on Gotham’s map to see which criminals had joints nearby. He noted Penguin’s Iceberg Lounge with interest, only one subway line away, and a notorious meeting ground for some of Gotham’s flashiest crime organizations.

Just research, he reminded himself. There was a knock on the garage door behind him that startled him enough to slam his laptop closed. Tim half turned in his seat to look, almost believing he’d imagined it, until the person outside banged loudly against the grated metal again and sent it rattling on its tracks.

The door to the safehouse opened and Jason took a step down onto the stairs, eyes fixed on the exterior door, his hand lingering uneasily against the doorframe.

Tim watched him before whispering, “Did you tell anyone else about this place? Another outsider maybe?”

Jason shook his head and flinched back into Roy who stood behind him as the banging resumed.

“Jason open the door. I know you’re in there!” Dick voiced shouted, muffled by the wall between them.

Tim jumped to his feet and grabbed for his backpack. “You swore you wouldn’t tell him where I was!”

“Tim? Tim, is that you? It’s Dick, please just open the door!”

Jason threw up his hands. “And I didn’t, Tim. I spent all of last night trying to lose him and only came back here when I thought the coast was clear.”

“Well, it obviously wasn’t, Jason! And now he’s right outside!!”

“Hey, hey!” Roy shoved past Jason and down the stairs. “He might know where we are now, but that doesn’t mean we have to let him inside. Alright? I’ll send him away.”

“Don’t open that door,” said Tim. “please, don’t.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Roy motioned aggressively to Jason, “Will you go stand by him before he dies of a panic attack or something? For fucks sake, Jason. I can’t babysit everyone.”

Jason shook his head as if to clear it. “Yeah, ‘course. Sorry.”

He jumped down the steps and moved to stand protectively at Tim’s side, positioning himself between Tim and the door and blocking Tim from sight with his broad shoulders. As Roy moved to unlock the padlock that held the door closed, Jason ducked his head to speak quietly to Tim.

“Remember, Tim. He might have come here wanting to talk but you set the terms. We won’t let anything happen unless you want it to. You have control of this situation.”  

Roy pulled on the chain until the door rested all the way up on the track. Dick was dressed in civvies and he barely waited for the door to clear his chest before ducking under. His eyes landed on Tim’s face where he’d shifted around Jason’s broad form to see more clearly.

Dick moved hurriedly towards them and Jason stepped forward and caught him in the chest with one hand. He stopped Dick’s forward progress with one aggressive jerk of his hand fisted in Dick’s shirt, pulling him back a step so he was eye to eye with him.

“You’ve got a lot of balls showing up here.” spat Jason.

Dick met his hard gaze. “I listened to the tapes, Jason. All night.”

His tried to shift his gaze around Jason’s head to catch sight of Tim. “I’m so sorry, Timmy. I didn’t know what was happening at Breckenridge— I couldn’t visit you—”

“Well, whose fault was that?” countered Jason.

“Please, Tim. I just want to apologize and make sure you’re alright.”

“He’s fine. We’re taking care of him.”

Tim sure didn’t feel fine in that moment.

“I thought you said he had a drug problem. He should be in a rehab facility, Jason!”

“That’s why I’m here,” Roy walked around them to stand near Jason. “I’m sponsoring Tim and overseeing his detox to make sure it's performed safely.”

Dick laughed. “Well, excuse me if that statement doesn’t fill me with confidence, Roy, but I really can’t trust my brother’s safety to you.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

Dick jerked his shirt free of Jason’s grip and turned on him. “Because you’re an addict, Roy. Jason might be okay with that and willing to give you a shot at sponsoring because you’re his best friend, but I’m not. Because from where I’m standing you’ve been in and out of rehab for years! If you can’t manage to stay sober then I really don’t think you should be giving faulty advice to Tim.”

“I think you should leave,” said Jason, so deadly calm that it scared Tim a little.

“I’m Tim’s guardian, Jason! You don’t get to decide what best for him, that’s my job.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

Dick flinched. “What the hell does that mean, huh? You gonna fight me for guardianship, dead boy?”

Jason shook his head. “Of course I won’t.”

Tim’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“Did you know that Tim got Bruce to sign off on emancipation papers before he died? Signed, sealed, but never filed— guess he never got the chance.  I found them in his apartment last night when I was waiting for you to lose interest in tailing me around the city and head on home.”

“What? Tim, tell me that’s not—”

“Don’t worry,” Jason cut over him with a smile.  “I took them with me.”

Tim’s eyes jumped back up to Jason, full of shock and unspeakable gratitude, as the older boy continued,  “I’m going to keep them save for him incase that’s still something he wants to pursue once he recovers. And based on recent events, I think we both know that he will.”

His words were entirely the threat that Dick perceived them to be. Tim was still reeling with the knowledge of it all and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to break down crying with relief or run and hide himself away and distance his mind from this broken person that his entire family thought of him as, someone everyone was trying to fix, or save, or reform. All he really knew was that thinking about this hurt his head too much and he needed to get away.

He dropped Jason’s jacket onto the stool and backed away from the trio towards the stairs that led into the safehouse, his backpack still slung across one shoulder.

He heard Roy speak up again as he was racing up the stairs to the second floor, pointing Dick not-so-kindly in the direction of the door. They were too involved in their own small grudges to spare him more than a glance. He found Jason’s bedroom at the back of the second floor, and rifled through the drawers— realizing too late that he wouldn’t have hid the pills in his room. Downstairs, Tim now remembered vaguely, but Jason and Roy would be back inside in a moment and he couldn’t be found searching the place for them.

With quickly diminishing hope, Tim dug into the pockets of Jason’s other jacket, the one he’s wrapped around Tim in Roy’s car the other night. No pills, but Tim came away with a handful of cash from the diner. It would be enough, Tim judged, and he could walk the other half of the way there if  he needed to save some cash.

He stepped out the fire escape off the second floor hallway, the cold air whipping his sweaty t-shirt around like the fabric of a kite. He was feverish and cramped with pains that came and went with the breeze, but he was alone. No eyes, he thought to himself, no stares and judgements and obligations. I’m free to be me, even if this version of Tim  doesn’t care to remember who Tim Drake was, should, or would be.

He raced down the fire escape steps and across the empty streets of the waterfront district with their vacant and boarded up warehouses. He’d woken up late in the morning and now at late afternoon the sun was dropping down into an evening array of pink, yellow, and orange clouds that tinted the rooftops and cast long shadows on the pavement.

Tim crossed his arms tight across his chest to keep warm and disappeared into the darkness of those shadows, leaving it all behind him.  

#kintsugi #batman #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #roy harper #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #tw withdrawal #batman fic #bat-losers-inc #LittleDarlingXOX

[whaatever-forever]

It’s 2am and I can’t sleep. It’s 2am and I’m doing what I usually do when I wonder what if. I stare at our pictures, and videos. All of which I have saved, still. Because I love looking back at them. How much fun we had. You were my best friend. Not just my lover but legitimately my best fucking friend. I still flinch when I hear your name. I’ve realized now I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship until I can look at a picture of you and NOT want to be with you. I’ve tried, one failed relationship and many dates later it all comes back to you. She doesn’t treat you right. Not like I did. I treated you like a fucking QUEEN. I bent over backwards to always make sure you got what you needed, and what you just wanted. I tried to hard to be that perfect girlfriend who always had the house clean, and your favorite meal after a long day of school & work. I worked 3 Jobs to support your career. Maybe that was my mistake. It took away time from us, and led you to her. She’s not me. I know because you call me from time to time and tell me how unhappy you are. Honestly, I’ve been unhappy from the moment you left. I can’t tell you how my heart skips a beat when I see your job calling my cell phone. What sucks the most is you ruined me. You ruined my trust, my outlook on love, my credit score, my apartment, my car, My. Life. There were nights I would lay up crying hysterically just because I wanted to end it all. I was at complete rock bottom and sometimes I honestly don’t know HOW I made it out of that. I will give appreciation to my most recent ex for helping me through most of it, friends, of course and my family (mom❤️) But what would’ve happened if neither of us dared right away. Would we have been able to work on it? Would I have trusted you again? Can we try again in the future ? Or are we already too broken to ever go back? It’s 2am, and I fucking miss you.

#relationships #2am thoughts

[calummwhatchasay]

Fuck, In Every Sense of the Word (cashton&muke)

1. this is based off a post on this website but idk where it is 2. so fucikgn fluffy 3. also kinda long im sorry 4. (my grammar is good in my writing, this is the lazy part)

-----

The busboy is really cute. Like. Fuckign. Okay. It’s fine, really. Luke isn’t even staring. (Except he totally is.) Deep breaths. A baseball cap sits backwards on his head and the tips of his hair are bleached, but his roots have grown out and his natural brown color shows. His green eyes have glazed over a bit as he wipes the same table for the fifth time.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you, my name is Ashton. I’m your best friend and am not anywhere near that table in the corner. If you could maybe listen to me complain about my History lecture, that would be awesome.”

“Fuck off. Besides, I’ve heard you complain about your lecture a million times. I’ve never seen him before. Though, I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.”

“Thirsty much? Maybe chill a little.”

“Can I get you all anything to drink?” A waiter with brown eyes and a name tag reading ‘Hello! My name is none of your business’ asks.

“Um-I, um, yes, we’d, er-” Ashton stutters continuously while trying to take his eyes off the waiter long enough to look at the menu.

“Ashton, you look a little flushed, are you feeling okay?” Luke asks Ashton, his laughter barely contained by mock-concern. “Why don’t you get an iced coffee, to help you cool off. And for me,” Luke grins at the waiter, and then looks back at Ashton, “tea.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll be back with your drinks in just a minute.” The waiter beams at the two.

Once the waiter’s ass has disappeared behind the doors to the kitchen, Ashton reverts his attention to Luke’s shit-eating grin. A quirk of Luke’s eyebrow has the contented smile on Ashton’s lips contorted into a grimace. “Fight me.” Luke’s grin only grows.

“Shut up.”

“Leave.”

“Let me live.”

“I’m bored of this conversation.” Luke sighs dramatically.

“I’m bored of you.”

Luke ignores Ashton’s weak attempt at an insult. “Entertain me.”

Ashton groans but concedes, inevitably. “Fine. Let’s play a game.”

“Okay, what game.”

“I don’t know! Do I have to do everything around here?” Ashton throws up his hands.

“Well… I don’t know how to put this. But, uh, yes. Remember? In the car on the way over here you said it yourself. ‘Luke, you are so useless. I swear, I have to do everything myself.’”

“Okay, okay, shut up.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that to me in half as many minutes.”

“Shut up.” Luke glares, but lets him continue. “What about Truth or Dare?”

“Are we 13 and at a sleepover?” Luke questions, unimpressed.

“In terms of maturity? Yes, yes we are.”

“We are not playing Truth or Dare in the middle of a restaurant.”

“Never Have I Ever?”

“We know literally everything about each other.”

“Fuck, Marry, Kill?” Luke ponders this for a second, attempting to come up with a legitimate reason not to play.

“We really are as mature as 13-year-olds, aren’t we?” He murmurs, shaking his head in exasperation.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, let’s start easy. The Chrises: Hemsworth, Evans, Pratt.”

“This is easy?” Luke mutters, eyes wide. Ashton cackles in a way that’s a lot scarier than it should be. “Fuck, um. Fuck, uh…”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to decide who to fuck, or you’re just generally stressed.”

“Okay, um. Marry Evans, fuck Hemsworth, and, oh god, no! I guess kill Pratt. I don’t want to do that! This sucks, this is the worst.”

“I would fuck Evans, marry Pratt, kill Hemsworth.”

“I couldn’t kill Hemsworth! I wouldn’t.” Luke puts hand on his forehead, in a somewhat ridiculous fashion. “Okay, how about Hayley Williams, Selena Gomez, Shailene Woodley.”

“Wow, okay. Um…” Ashton pauses, scrunching up his face in thought. “Yea, fuck Selena, marry Hayley, kill Shailene.”

Luke tsks. “Marry Shailene, fuck Hayley, kill Selena.”

“I’ve got one! Lucy, Franklin, and Peppermint Patty from Peanuts.”

“You are sick-minded.” Luke says, glaring across the table. Ashton’s lips spread into a wide grin, and he lets out a slight chuckle. “Fuck Peppermint Patty, marry Franklin, kill Lucy.” Luke says with a decisive nod.

“That was an awful quick decision for such a,” Ashton makes air quotes with his fingers, “‘sick’ group.”

“What about you?”

“Easy. Fuck Lucy, marry Franklin, kill Patty.”

“Franklin just seems like husband material, right?”

“Oh yea, definitely.”

“Um, here are your drinks.” The waiter interjects, as he returns with the drinks. It’s as if someone’s painted a pink stripe across Ashton’s cheeks, his blush is so bright.

“Thanks.” Ashton mutters into his lap.

“Yea, thanks so much, None of Your Business.” The waiter looks somewhat offended before he realizes Luke is just reading his name tag.

“Right. Would you all like to order?” Luke looks to Ashton to see if he’s chosen what he’s going to eat. He’s still gawping at the waiter like he’s Jesus Reincarnate.

“You know, we haven’t even looked at our menus. Could you come back in a few?” The waiter smiles graciously before making his way back to the kitchen.

“Get your shit together, Ashton.” Luke leans across the table to (not-so) lightly hit him with the menu that has yet to be opened.

“Leave me alone? What did I do to deserve this? I am so nice and kind all the time?” Luke frowns at him, completely unconvinced. “Shut up.” Ashton says, sticking his tongue out.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Luke throws up his hands, entirely too done with his best friend.

“Whatever. What do you want to eat?”

“Um. Um, I think, uh…” Luke trails off, not even looking at his menu.

“What are you-” Ashton turns to see what Luke is staring at and finds the same busboy from earlier, now helping their waiter with a big order at another table. “Oh.”

The two boys sit in silence, each trapped in their own minds. The waiter and the busboy are returning to the kitchen far too quickly, and Ashton has turned his attention back to deciding what to eat. He looks up to ask Luke if maybe they ought to split a pizza? But Luke is still staring at the doors to the kitchen, lost in thought.

“I’m not saying you can’t talk but…” Ashton grabs Luke’s tea and takes a sip.

“Oh, fuck off.” Luke grumbles. Ashton laughs, but gives Luke his drink back.

“Do you want to split a pizza?”

“Only if there are banana peppers on it.”

“Deal.”

“Fuck, marry, kill, Elmo, Cookie Monster, Oscar the Grouch.”

“Luke, what the fuck.”

“Says Mr Peanuts Characters.”

“At least they’re human!” Ashton exclaims.

“Pick.”

“Fuck Cookie Monster, marry Elmo, kill Oscar.” Ashton sighs, dejected.

“Really? Cookie Monster?” Luke looks genuinely surprised.

“I mean, yea, I’d fuck Cookie Monster.” Ashton shrugs.

A cough prevents Luke from further probing. “Um… Are you all ready to er, order?”

Luke breaks eye contact with Ashton to look at their waiter, who’s nervously fiddling with his pen. Ashton sits stock still. The only way Luke knows he’s alive is the way his face pales when their waiter first speaks, and then reverts back to the bright pink that Ashton seems to usually flush when their waiter comes around.

“Yea, yes we do. We’ll have a medium pizza with banana peppers and…” Luke glances at Ashton to see if there are any more toppings he’d like, “and that’ll be all.” Luke smiles at the waiter before handing him their two menus.

“Alright, it’ll be out in about fifteen minutes.” The waiter starts to turn back to the kitchen, but rotates back quickly, “I would fuck Cookie Monster too, by the way.” He then quickly returns to the kitchen.

“Well that was the worst thing that’s ever happened in the world, ever.”

“Maybe you’re exaggerating a tiny bit?”

“No, most definitely not.”

“Fuck, marry, kill-”

“No.”

“Why not?” Luke pouts, jutting out his bottom lip.

“Because, Luke. Stop being like this.”

“No, I don’t understand, Ash.” Ashton glares at Luke, but fails to respond. “Can you please explain?”

“Luke, I swear…” Ashton sighs, dropping his head into his hands.

“Fuck, marry, kill, our waiter, the busboy, and, um…" Luke pauses, unsure of who to add to his list. He searches the restaurant for someone attractive enough to make Ashton squirm. He glances past Ashton and catches a glimpse of his reflection in the window. “And me.”

“Hmm, okay.”

“If you say kill me, we’re going to have to fight.”

“That’s not much of a threat, we both know you would lose.”

“Shut up. Answer.”

“That’s a bit contradictory, isn’t it?”

“Whatever. Shut up. Fuck off. Answer.”

Ashton chuckles, but answers all the same. “Kill the busboy, fuck the waiter, and marry you.”

“You would kill the busboy?” Luke gasps. “Wait." Luke holds up a hand, as if physically asking to Ashton to stop. “You would marry me?” Luke puts his hands over his heart. “I’m flattered.”

“I change my mind, I’m marrying the waiter, fucking the busboy, and murdering you with a blunt instrument, so it’s extremely painful.”

“Honestly, I can’t blame you. The busboy is beautiful. I want him to have my children.” Luke nods in earnest. Ashton smirks.

“What?” Luke’s eyebrows knit together. “Is there tea on my face?”

“No, no.” Ashton’s smile only seems to grow, “You’re just so whipped for someone you’ve never met.”

“I’m not whipped!” Luke flushes.

“Mhmm. Your blush disagrees.”

“Shut up.”

“Nah.” Ashton shakes his head. “Fuck, marry, kill: Busboy, Waiter, me.”

“Fuck the busboy, marry you, kill the waiter.” Luke replies after a breath. Ashton quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh? You aren’t going to marry the busboy.”

“Well, it’s like you said... I barely know him. He could just be a really hot serial killer. You and I, our marriage would be loveless, but I wouldn’t be dead. And I would just have multiple sidechicks.”

“Or sidedicks.”

“Or sidedicks.” Luke agrees.

Ashton reaches across the table to reach the salt and spills Luke’s drink everywhere. “Ashton! What the fuck! What the hell were you even going to salt?!”

“My, um, coffee?”

“Why are you being so wei-”

“Excuse me,” Ashton raises his hand, waving someone over, “would you mind helping us clean this up?” 

Within seconds, the blondish brunette is standing at the pair’s table, a towel in hand and a rosy tint on his cheekbones.

“I would love to help, but I need to use the bathroom.” Ashton beams, a glint in his eye.

“Ashton.” Luke spits, gritting his teeth.

“I really have to pee, Luke.” Ashton offers Luke a very fake pout and leaves the booth.

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin!” Luke all but shouts after him. The busboy rocks back and forth on his heels.

“My company really isn’t that bad, y’know. And I’m not a serial killer.” He shrugs, starting to mop up the mess on the table.

“I-I didn’t think, I just- um, sorry, I’m-” Luke stammers, unable to string words together in a sensible order.

“Shh...” The busboy puts a finger to Luke’s lips.

“Er...” Luke sits there, listless. The busboy moves around dishes and continues to soak up the tea. All Luke can do is sit there like a dumbass, staring at the sharp angle of the boy’s jawline and thinking about how warm the boy’s hand was.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just- You were stammering, and I- well, I-” Luke interrupts to busboy, putting a finger to his lips.

“Shh.” The busboy’s lips curve into a (really cute, oh my god) smile. Luke pulls his hand back to his lap. His cheeks are pink again.

“Have you got a name?”

“Y-yea. I’m Luke.”

“Luke,” The boy pulls his eyebrows together, “Suits you. I’ll tell your waiter to bring you a new tea.” And then the mysterious busboy turns tail and walks back to the kitchen.

“So.” Ashton says, sliding back into his seat.

“So.” Luke stares across the table at Ashton. “How was your piss?”

“Jesus, you’re petty.”

“And you’re a little bitch, but what else is new?”

“I’m not saying I hate you, but...”

“I change my mind. I’m marrying the busboy and killing you.”

“What’s his name?”

“Who?”

“The busboy. What’s his name.”

“I, er, don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask for his name. You talked to him for like five minutes and you didn’t get his name.”

“I was busy!”

“Doing what?” Ashton all but screeches, “Daydreaming?!”

“Maybe.” Luke mutters.

“Honestly.” Ashton shakes his head.

“Here’s your pizza guys.” The waiter puts the pizza down, “Your tea,” He puts Luke’s tea on the table in front of him, “and, Ashton, do you want a refill?” He starts chewing on his pen, looking intently at Ashton.

“You, um, you know my- er, um... no. Thank you. No thank you. But, a water would be nice?”

“Sure thing!” The waiter is a little too excited to bring a customer water in Luke’s opinion, but Ashton is also far too nervous to order one. They just might be a match made in heaven. The waiter heads back towards the kitchen.

“You didn’t get his name?! What were you doing? Daydreaming!”

“Shut up.” Ashton groans.

“Let’s just eat, yea?”

“Whatever.” Ashton grumbles, taking two slices. Luke rolls his eyes, grabbing a few slices of his own.

“Here’s your water!” 

“Thank you, um, thanks so much.” The waiter stands there a few seconds too long, just looking at Ashton.

“Right.” He straightens his back, as if knocking himself out of stupor, “If you need anything, I’ll be over there.” He points to the kitchen. “So... yea.”

“Wait! Who should I ask for? If I need something.”

“Calum. I’m Calum.” And he turns around and doesn’t quite sprint back to the kitchen.

“You two are sickening.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You got his name though. I envy you that.”

“Chill. Eat your pizza.” Ashton grabs a third piece.

“God, you’re annoying when you’re hungry. And when you’re not. You’re actually just always annoying.”

“Wow, thanks. Remind me to never ask you to be my wingman ever.”

“I have a feeling you won’t need a wingman after today.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“That was redundant.”

“And that was irrelevant. Are you going to really going to kill me? Is that why I won’t need a wingman? Because, it’s just a game. You’re not actually supposed to fuck, marry, and kill the people you say you will in the game.”

“Shut up. I was just trying to say I think you and Calum,” Luke does a little dance with his eyebrows that just makes Ashton uncomfortable, “might be thE START OF SOMETHING NEW!” Ashton puts his head in his hands because why, of all people, is this idiot his best friend? “No, but seriously,” Luke pokes him, “I think he likes you.” Luke says, finishing his third piece of pizza.

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

“What if he’s straight.”

“I think he’s about as straight as a shape with a 2πr perimeter.”

“Did you just fucking say that.” Luke shrugs at Ashton’s appalled expression. “I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Luke finishes his fourth slice.

“Dessert?” Calum asks, coming over to their table. Luke glances at Ashton. No response. If he plans on asking this boy out anytime soon, he needs to work on his voice box functionality when their waiter comes around.

“I think the check will do. Should we bring it back there, or...?” Luke asks as Calum hands him the check.

“I’ll come grab it.”

“Thanks, Calum.” Luke smiles. “You know,” he says turning to Ashton, “if you ever intend to make a move, you need to actually speak. As of current, I’m pretty sure he thinks I like him, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“Hell no, Luke. Get your hands off my man!”

“Okay, a) calm down, b) people are staring, so c) calm down more. D) I don’t like him, e) he isn’t your man,” Luke puts his pointer finger up at Ashton’s indignant expression, “f) yet, and g) my hands aren’t anywhere near him.”

“Jesus this isn’t kindergarten, you and your alphabet need to chill. Also, he will be my man, and your hands better never be anywhere near him.”

“Thank you all for coming to eat with us!” Calum beams as Luke hands back the check and two twenties.

“You owe me twenty bucks Ashton. And I believe you owe this gentleman a thank you.” Luke stands up to leave. “I’ll be in the car, if you ever manage to open your mouth.”

“Fuc-”

“Ashton Fletcher! Language! Please do not use expletives in public, there could be children about!” Ashton just glares as Luke exits the restaurant.

“Ashton, I am so sorry,” Calum wrings his hands together, “I’ll be right back, I just have to take of something real quick. Please wait?” Calum asks, a worried expression plaguing his chiseled features.

“Of course.” A smile graces Ashton’s lips, and it’s bright in the way that reminds Calum of the sun, but soft in the way that reminds him of it setting on the ocean.

Calum rushes back to the kitchen, and less than a minute later, he and the busboy are walking back out at Olympic speed. The busboy continues towards the exit and Calum makes his way back to Ashton.

“Sorry, I kind of...” Calum trails off when his gaze switches from the door to Ashton.

“No, yea. Of course.” Ashton breaks himself out of the trance he seems to fall into every time Calum is around.

“Fletcher, huh?”

“Do we have to talk about that? I’d really rather not.”

“Aw, c’mon! It’s cute.” Calum pauses as if he’s about to say something else, but he isn’t quite sure he should. “You’re cute.”

“I-” Ashton almost says he isn’t, but Luke’s been telling him he needs to learn to accept compliments, “Thank you.” The silence hangs in the air for a minute. “So, what’s your middle name.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would. Very much.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

“Oh? How much later?”

“A couple days, maybe. Over french bread and cheese that tastes expensive, but I got for free from my sister who works at a cheese shop.”

“Maybe at an overlook where we can watch the sunset. It’s a bit of a hike but,” Ashton looks Calum up and down, “I don’t think that’ll be a problem for you.” (And if Ashton is disproportionately proud of himself for not fainting, no one needs to know.)

“How’s Friday sound?” Calum grins.

“How’s I’ll pick you up at 7 sound?” Ashton grins back.

“Perfect.” Calum hands Ashton his phone and Ashton inputs his number.

“Text me.” Ashton turns around to leave, and congratulate himself on what may have been the most successful flirting of his life.

“Oi!” Ashton looks over his shoulder at Calum. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Luke paid?”

Calum lets his eyes drift down to Ashton’s butt, “Yea, but your tip was better.” He winks cheekily, and Ashton thinks he could get used to this.

-

5 minutes ago

Michael bursts through the doors to the parking lot. “Where, where, where!” He mutters, tugging at the short hair sticking out from his baseball cap. He spots broad shoulders and blond hair a couple of rows over. “Luke!”

Luke spins around, not knowing quite what to look for. “Busboy?” Luke looks confused, concerned, maybe a tinge hopeful, but Michael’s probably imagining that.

Michael maneuvers around the shoddy parking jobs towards Luke. “Hey. Hi.” He smiles, a tad shyer than before.

“Um, hi. Is everything okay?” Luke’s face pales for a second. “Ashton- Ashton isn’t hurt is he, because I-”

“No, he’s alright.” Michael puts his hand on Luke’s shoulder to calm him down, “I just wanted to- to talk to you.” Luke smiles, just a little.

“Yea? About what?”

“I know you’re a tea guy, but, I know this hole-in-the-wall coffee shop where they sometimes have music. I’ve heard it’s a pretty good place for first dates.”

“Were you going to ask someone out?” Luke asks. Michael honestly isn’t sure whether he’s kidding, or if he honestly doesn’t know Michael is trying to ask him out. “Tinder date?”

“No, Luke, I-”

“Not a Tinder date? Who then?”

“Luke, please.” Luke lifts an eyebrow (A single eyebrow! How does he do that? Michael’s eyebrows do not work independent of each other.) “You, Luke. Would you like to go to this kind of lame coffee shop I know, where the lighting is low but the music is good, and the people are quiet. Would you go on a date with me?”

“I might, maybe. Probably. Normally. But I can’t.” And Michael’s face falls, and Luke might cry, but goddammit, he’s going to stay strong, because this is only fair.

“I understand. I didn’t mean to bother you. I really need to be getting back anyway, um-”

“I can’t, because my mum always told me not to go places with strange men you don’t know. And a certain busboy I find awful cute never told me his name.”

“You dick. I was about to go cry into my dish towel, you know.”

“Oh you were not, you are so over-dramatic.”

“I was! It’s not every day a really cute guy comes into your workplace and tries to flirt with you but is too nervous, but in being nervous only gets cuter! I was very upset!”

“You think I’m cute?”

“I thought that was very obvious. Was it not? Let me clarify: I think you are probably both the cutest and the hottest guy I have ever seen, simultaneously. And I look in the mirror every morning.”

Luke hums, biting his lip to keep from splitting his cheeks, “That’s pretty hard to compete with.”

“Lunch then? On Saturday? I’ll pick you up?”

“You haven’t given me your number, told me where we’re going, given me a specific time, or told me your fucking name.”

“I’m sorry! You’re just- really distracting, you know that? I can’t get my mind off of you long enough to remember how to hold a conversation.”

Luke looks at his beat up Converse. “Thank you. You’re pretty cute yourself.”

“It’s Michael,” He can’t keep the grin off his face, “Before I forget. Michael Clifford.” Luke looks up, and his smile must be a thousand watts, in Michael’s estimation. Luke hands the busboy - Michael - his phone. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Yea. You do that, Luke. I’ll come pick you up. We’ll go on a date. I’ll go on a date with you. ‘Cos you said yes. Sounds like a plan.”

“Shh.” Luke puts his finger to Michael’s lips. “We can talk on Saturday. Now, get back to work.”

MASTERLIST

5. no one blushes this much?? 6. i came up with the word sidedicks on the spot who’s proud of me 7. ‘disproportionately’ is a really long word 8. i use so many variations of the word smile js 9. the ending is kinda shoddy im sorry 10. should i have put a ‘read more’ in? probably. did i? nope.

#all #5sos #cashton #muke #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #calum hood #michael clifford #ashton 5sos #calum 5sos #michael 5sos #luke 5sos #5sos imagine #5sos preference #5sos au #5 seconds of summer #mine #5sos one shot #calum 5sos imagine #luke 5sos imagine #ashton 5sos imagine #michael 5sos imagine #cashton one shot #muke one shot #ai #lh #ch #mc

[rassasassalin]

Kane, Kane I love you, but I don't want to see you fight Brock.  It'll be the worst kind of trainwreck.  I don't even really wanna see Braun fight Brock again, just because I don't trust them to do right and have him beat mister dickchest.

...Kurt, really?  Jfc.  I guess it'll bring the casual fans in.  Fuck me, I'm just so tired of Brock.  Love Heyman, hate seeing that dumb purple face and penis tattoo.

Joe Rollins... Yeah, that'll be a good match, but it doesn't quite get the gross lesner taste outta my mouth.

Don't call Seth bad, Cole, he's trying to redeem himse- JORDAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING PLEASE STOP I REALLY LEGITIMATELY WANT TO LIKE YOU AND YOU ARE MAKING IT VERY HARD TO DO. Fuckin Seth's face, tho, like "who the hell is this child and who let him in my ring???"  Man is lucky that Dean hasn't dropped down from the ceiling to try and brutalize him.

Ah Joe, you know you're always the bell of any ball that matters.

Not sure Seth's one to talk about Daddy issues considering his history with Trips and Steph, but  ok, you a face now, we'll politely ignore the things you did as a heel.

Things I would not actually be surprised should they happen: Joe ends up kind of adopting Jason Jordan as his pupil/understudy for the purpose of annoying the shit out of Kurt as Jordan goes through his rebellious stage.

...A WWF commercial on the WWE is really weirding me out.  I mean, hell yeah, let's stop tiger poaching, but like... 's'weird.

I don't like that noise Seth made when he was rammed into the barricade, if he could never make that noise again that'd be great. Is the crowd chanting boring?  People have no appreciation for ring psychology anymore.  I know you guys don't like Jordan, but let him try to murder Seth's back jfc it makes sense, let the boy live. Wow, yeah, that probably should have been Jordan's win, wow.  Also, nice to see American Alpha on the same super cool suplexing lane.  I can dig it.

Pffff, Love Tap.  It's just a lil' love tap.  Love Booker T.

Whoever in the crowd is chanting boring needs to shut the fuck GULAK YES PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW HOW DREW IS FEELING AFTER LAST WEEK IS HE GOING TO PUT ON A BRAVE FACE OR WILL HE BE TOTALLY DESPONDENT OR JUST VERY CONFLICTED?  GIVE ME MY CRUISERWEIGHTS NOW PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

ALSO IF THEY COULD DELETE THE SKITTLES POX COMMERCIAL THAT WOULD ALSO BE FANTASTIC I FUCKING HATE IT SO MUCH JUST MAKE IT GO AWAY IT'S SO GROSS.

Dean called Sheamus and Cesaro the Europeans.  AND HE CAN'T TEAM WITH A FACE LIKE JORDAN'S.  DEANO.  Deano please.  I can't.

...I also can't deal with bwoken matt please oh my god i just want bray to be taken seriously and also want matt to do ridiculously stupid backyard wrestling shit and i'm just not sure i can get both at the same time.

BRAY PLEASE STAHP WITH THE FACES

Things I am honestly surprised by: The fact that nobody has found a way to get the chant "Oooo-ver" into Finn's theme song.  Or just, chanting Over at him any time he's in the ring.

Book, come on dude, give m'boys a chance before you say their strategy aint workin, the match only just started. Oops, someone's bleedin. Oh boyos, boooo, why you gotta be like that, come on that's not HOLY SHIT HIDEO!  I was NOT expecting him tonight!!!

...is... are they thinking of moving Finn over to 205 live?  Hideo's already there, and Vince has a habit of purposefully putting people that he doesn't think has what it takes in no win situations just so he can say he was right all along.  Well, joke's on fucking you McMahon, because those of us who actually watch the cruiserweights are totally aware of how amazing their in ring work and story telling is, and if you bring Finn over, all you're going to do is get more people to watch them and come to the same realization.  Bringing Finn over might very well make 205 a serious contender against NXT as far as loyal and slightly rabid fanbases go. ...Also did Cole say something about the Zo Train and then Drew Gulak as a separate entity from said train of Enzo???  Should I be reading into that?

That's my dude, Cedric.  Glad you know better than to underestimate Drew.

...Wheeeeeeen will I get my UK boys on their own shooooooooow?????????

Oh my god, here we go, I'm not ready, Drew bby pls Fucking yes those cheers were for Drew thank you for noticing Enzo. ...Hmm... I think they're doing the thin DREEEEEEWW FUCKLNDF KILL ME RIGHT NOW BABY NO HOW DARE YOU FUCKING JAR JAR I'M GONNA DIE I CAN"T FUCKING PLEASE STOP ALSO HE"S NOT YOUR BEST FRIEND HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU FUCKING THANK YOU CEDRIC ...Where is Enzo going?  How is going to help Drew cheat from up there?  Also I just noticed Drew's Trunks I think I like them but might also kind of hate thhem they somehow look kinda skimpier than his black ones and I'm not sure how or why Zulak.  Eheheh.  Zuul motherfucker. Okay, so, typing this out while having my eyes glued on the screen so will probably have a number of interjections when exciting things happen, but I'm thinking maybe to explain this whole coming out like Drew didn't do nothing wrong- Drew holy shit, don't flip over the top rope like that, thanks- might be because they're doing that thing where they act like nothing happened on tuesday because they assume that the regular audience didn't bother to watch, which is like... I sort of understand but it also really pisses me off.  Wrestling fans in general aren't actually that stupid, and fun fact, Drew Gulak and Enzo Amore are in fact good enough story tellers to say through a few words, and show through their actions, that shit went down.  That's kind of the great thing about wrestling.  It's a soap opera in the way that you can stop watching for years and years and years, and come back- Sweet baby jesus another WWF commercial what the hell is happening here- to basically any show and pretty much have a pretty good idea of what's going on, storyline wise. -Look, if Cedric wasn't on the top rope, he couldn't be tossed off it, let's be real.  ALSO AMORE YOU SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH AND STOP THREATENING MY DREW AND STOP CALLING HIM GABBY GOO GOO I DON'T APPROVE but I do approve Drew working the wings and back like how beautiful i do legitimately love technical wrestling- Just given the action of the "actors" we can tell who's a good guy, who's a baddy, who's got beef with who, and anything that can't be super easily explained, we got video packages for. I'm kind of seriously worried that they're going to do a- FUCKING BEAUTIFUL TIE HIM UP DREW I LOVE HIM SO MUCH SHUT THE FUCK ENZO  FUCK ME THAT FIGHTING FOR THE BOTTOM ROPE WAS FUCKING AMAZING  AND where the fuck is Zo going????  Drew, no, come on, don't get distrac- fuck.  Too late.  Drew is... is Drew bleeding he IS Fuck me, okay, kinda figured that's how this'll beeeee Nia no why???

Shit, okay, thought I was having- Enzo's going to get used and abused, by his train and by Nia probably until the only one he has left is Drew, who is lame and a dweeb and a fucking square but you know what unlike everyone else he's been a true friend despite everything that Enzo has put him through and so, through Drew's good dork heart, he helps mends Enzo so he stops being so jaded and hurt after what Cas did to him.  Or not.  Probably not, at all, but it's a road that they could go down should they choose to.

Mmmkay, Asuka win, unsurprising, slightly surprised that Absolution hasn't come back out to fuck with her again.  Like, if I was eventually going to be going up against Asuka, I'd be playing mindgames and beating her down to give myself a weakpoint to target later on every chance I got.

Shhhiiiiiit, I remember that countdown, it was Ammmaaaaaazing~  I popped as hard as an 8yo could pop and I didn't quite understand what was happening but I knew that I would never be the same Ageen.  Good times.  Good fucking times.

Ah yes, and here come *in Ambrose Voice* The Europeans.  I'm sorry, I'm never going to get over it, it makes me want to both laugh and cry, Deano has a gift on the mic truly.

Not to be a grammarnazi, but it's you'RE a stupid idiot, not your.

Calling it now- Jason is gonna get in Dean's way/ knocked into him or Seth, and Ambrose is going to get distracted enough with beating the shit out of him that it somehow causes him and Seth to lose the match, either because Seth'll go for the tag and no one will be there, or someone's gonna get ambushed and then pinned real quick.  That, or Dean tries to push Jordan out of the way, and so Jordan jumps in to fight back and they lose because of that.

Woooooooow, Jordan.  Slow your damn roll. I mean, I don't think I'd have started with Seth either, because he's obviously still feeling that earlier fight, but still.  You don't go at it that way.  C'mon man. Ahahahaa omg what the hell was that slide across the ring by Cesaro that was the oddest looking thing I've seen in ages.  I mean, I appreciate the blueballing against a hot tag, but like, ehehe I want to be mad but I'm just giggling. Dean, I appreciate you putting Seth back in the ring but why didn't you put him back in closer to your corner??? Shit, Dean, are you okay???  Fuck, shit, that better be a work, jesus, oh no, ohhhh no please come on oh shit I don't like that ending it was awkward as fuck fuuuuuuuck deano....

...No, wait, uh, uhhhh, they setting up for a turn?  I mean, Dean's the obvious one to make a heel turn on the Shield right now.  Personally, I'd go with Roman, because it'd be less expected and unfortunately people are going to go back to booing him as soon as the Shield isn't around anymore so you might as well give the crowds a REASON to boo him, but I know Dean's the lunatic so...  Christ I really hope this is a work and he's not actually hurt...

Limo???  Oh!  Oh, Steph's home!  Nice!

...Matt, omg.  I'd watch Matt fight a fish.  ...Woken Warriors.  Matt, please stop. ...Fuck me, they're going to go back to crossdressing Bray again.  Please, let's not do that again. I like that Corey is a Woken Warrior.  I shouldn't, but I do.

Okay, okay, they're showing Dean getting hurt alot, so... maybe yes a work???  YES, Okay, attack backstage means work, definitely work.  Or like, Dean does have issues with his arm so he needs time off to get it fixed.   They used to do this all the time to let the wrestlers have Kayfabe reasons to not be around for a couple of months.  But like... they're pretty upfront about when a guy or gal does get injured now, so...  I have no idea what's going on.

Fuck yeah, welcome back Revival.  Missed you boys.  Who's their first victims then?  Oh, Heath and Rhyno.  Awww.  Well, makes sense.  At least they're getting tv timmmmmmm what is Dana Wearing???  Why???????  BOOKER MY DUDE NO PLEASE DON'T TALK ABOUT DANA COUNTING CALORIES THAT'S NOT COOL.

KURT DON'T YOU FIRE MY HEATH HE'S GOT KIDS!!!  oh god what is rhyno gonna put heath through????

Hello Elias. ...I love Elias. please go caroling at me. Man fuck Goodell. I- what?  Sasha???  What are you doing?  Oh my god.  Are the girls gonna beat up Elias?  I mean, not that I'm super against it or anything, but like, why?  Is there a reason for this?  Has he done something?  Oh, it's because it's time for their match, right?  He's eating up their time.... Oh no that one buddy, that's so sad, but it was a good try Bailey. Bye, Elias.  Dude...  You can't not hug Bailey.

...Why HASN'T Nia been more involved with fighting Absolution.  She's a huge threat.  You'd think they'd try to take her out early. ...Dana changed her clothes. Well, hello there Boss Lady. Paige looks like she knows she's about to be grounded but is trying to play it cool.

I'd like to point out that if there was a big ol' fella rumble going on and an Dude McMahon came out, they wouldn't have stopped fighting.  But the Ladies know when toooooooooo YESSSSS PLEASE STEPHANIE I WANT A FUCKING WOMEN'S RUMBLE YEP YEP YEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#wwe raw #monday night raw #sassin about rasslin