#of course three was the doctor who was at the club before fifteen was

[atpm1976]

omg he WAS at the club

#of course three was the doctor who was at the club before fifteen was #im aware he probably means like a country club but its funnier to imagine him in a 70s (or is it 80s?) night club #(did anyone get the unit dating controversy joke i made. or was that way too niche) #micah.txt #whoposting

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dark Passenger - Chapter Fifteen.

I wanted to update this yesterday, but I had to go into hospital to be checked over (don’t worry, I’m fine, just tired as I was there until 12:30am) so here, apologies for it being a little late! Again, 40 notes to unlock the next chapter. Don’t let me down!

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen

Words - 3,506 

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

“Sit, good girl. Spin, good girl! Alright, speak. Yeah, you’re smart as hell. Give paw, yes! Here you go.” Sitting in the afternoon sun two weeks on from his diagnosis, EZ enjoyed the simple pleasure of going through Sally’s tricks repertoire with her, feeding her little mouthfuls of chicken as a reward. With his medication now coursing through his system, he felt clearer headed than he had in a long time, the darkness within him caged off, the beast placated, no longer running rampant through his brain. Gone. All gone.  

Well, except for the dark passenger that remained. The dark passenger he hoped his impending radiotherapy treatment would be successful in shrinking enough for it to be removed via surgery, EZ fresh from his early afternoon appointment with Doctor Ruiz, his oncologist. She was very confident that an aggressive schedule of radiotherapy would see results, but had warned him that because of the fact they were upping the dosage of radiation to as high as safely possible in an attempt to thwart the tumour’s size and progress along with the drugs, he was likely going to feel like hell.  

The course would last for six weeks, his treatments every day for five out of seven days. Because of the fact that he was likely going to succumb to the side effects, and also was forbidden from riding or driving while going through his treatments, he’d put control of the club into Bishop’s capable hands for the duration, his VP vouching that he would run things smoothly, and all he had to concentrate on was getting better.  

Now that he’d actually decided to do so, now that he realised his life was worth fighting for.

That fight, it was less for himself and more for the family who had pleaded with him to reconsider, seeing his father moved to tears, telling him that he couldn’t bury his son, Angel and Bella also tearfully speaking of their love for him, and unwillingness to let him resign himself to something that wasn’t set in stone. Also, the little slither of optimism that if he lived, he could begin putting the wrong things right that he’d had come to him while he was in the hospital was a voice that had eventually grown so loud, he couldn’t ignore it. Dying wasn’t an option at this point.  

Still, though, he was set in his stance over one person in particular, which was a conversation he found himself having with his sister-in-law, watching her pull up in the yard, Sally wiggling with excitement over her arrival, making happy chirruping noises of delight once she saw Bella climb from her car.  

“Go get her!” Letting go of her collar, Sally hurtled over, Bella cooing ‘my sweet baby!’ while bending to lovingly stroke her face and ears. “How the hell you drive in those heels, I’ll never know.”

Bella looked at her feet and back at him. “Natural bloody talent.” Reaching him, she leaned to kiss his cheek, EZ returning the gesture before she sat down at his side. “How’d your appointment go?”

“Not bad,” he said with a slight shrug, Sally settling in at his feet. “They’re starting next Monday, if you’re still alright to take me there and run me back again? I realise you’re busy with writing, so if you can’t then don’t stress, I can get a cab.”

Bella had offered to take him for his treatments, since she had little in the way of physical commitments other than her twice weekly meets with the band to brainstorm and rehearse their new material. “Of course, it’s alright, you daft lump!” She nudged him with affection, stroking his forearm. It was lovely to have the brother-in-law she remembered back again, but Christ, it was at such a cost. “What time do we have to be there?”  

“8am. I know it’s quite early, but at least it gets it out of the way and means you’re free for the rest of the day then.”  

“Oh, your brother is going to be so pissed off. That’s his horny time,” she chuckled, EZ arching an eyebrow.  

“Surely with Angel, that’s any time he has sex on offer?”

Her snort laugh had him smiling in an instant. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true!”

“So, how’s your day been? And shit, how’d you get that? Looks sore.” Pointing to the bruise he could see forming on her inner elbow, he winced a little.  

“I’ve been taking pole dancing classes with Camille. She doesn’t charge me, and I get to do it in an environment where I don’t feel embarrassed by my thoroughbred knees, like I would in a room full of other people, so Amelia and I go to her house twice weekly around her work. She isn’t in today, so we had a morning session and then went for lunch.”

At hearing his ex’s name, his heart jumped sadly in his chest. “How is she?”

Pulling her cigarettes out, Bella lit up before replying. “I ain’t gonna sugar coat it, mate. She’s sad without you.”  

His response had left the tip of his tongue before he could process it, delivered on a soft snort. “She shouldn’t be.”

“Well, she bloody is,” Bella affirmed, trying not to be too abrupt in tone, failing somewhat. At least now she knew she wouldn’t get her head bitten off for it, being able to relax a little and not have to watch what she said, or be cautious of the tone of her delivery, save antagonising him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, but she’s so in love with you. All she wants is for you to go back to her.”

“Bella, I can’t.” He dropped his head, looking down to where his fingers stroked swirls into Sally’s coat. “I lied to her, I cheated on her, I hit her, and I manipulated her. I know it wasn’t me, but I still did it. I don’t deserve someone as pure and beautiful as she is. I don’t. I’m not worthy of her.”  

Cocking her head until she caught his eye, she rested her hand on his forearm. “Don’t you think that’s for Camille to decide? Tell her your truth, and then let her be the judge of whether she wants to be with you.”  

He saw that there was a certain amount of sense to her words, her reasoning quite fair, but he remained resolute. “Can’t do it. Because if it is a worst-case scenario – and I’m not saying it definitely will be – but if it is, I don’t want to cause her any further pain. She’s too good for it.”

She nodded, but couldn’t help but offer another little nugget over her friend’s current state of mind regarding him. “She’s in pain already, EZ. Being without you.” Seeing her husband turning the corner in approach, she squeezed his shoulder before getting up, meeting Angel halfway with a kiss, while EZ felt like he’d just received a particularly acute punch to the gut. He could have done without hearing that, but held no grudge against Bella for revealing it. Being his family, but also friends with Camille, he could see she was trying to be loyal to them both.

While he sat in quiet contemplation, Angel and Bella headed out for lunch together, the topic of discussion eventually landing on what she and EZ had been speaking of.

“Well, I think he’s insane, having a sweet, gorgeous chick like that still wanting to be with him, but that’s EZ all over. He fucks shit up and then acts like one of those, what do they call them…” Trailing off, he snapped his fingers, frowning with concentration. “Those dudes who like pain inflicted on ‘em.”

“A masochist?” Bella offered, spearing a cherry tomato from her plentiful salad with her fork.

He clicked his fingers again, pointing at her. “Yeah, that’s it. Thank you for being the thinking part of my brain when it’s being slow-moving, my darling.”

“Hey, that’s my husband you’re bad mouthing,” she spoke through a mouthful of tomato and spinach.

“I know I ain’t the sharpest knife in the damned drawer at times, B. Besides, nobody has it all, and I got the gorgeous face, the hot body and the hella big dick, so I ain’t too pressed.”

She snorted on giggle, winking and sipping her wine. “Yes, you absolutely do, big sexy. I’m adamant in my stance that you’re smarter than you think.” Leaning across the table, she gave him a kiss, stealing one of his fries and receiving a slapped hand for it, Angel muttering something about her never ordering them as a side but always happy to steal his. “Anyway, we were talking about EZ and Camille.”

“We were,” he began, glaring when she stole another fry. “God damnit, woman! Quit it!”

“What? It was only two!”

Catching the eye of a passing server, he beckoned her over. “Can we get a side of fries here, please? Before I take my wife and throw her into that little fountain you guys have out front.”  

The server looked entertained, Bella poking her tongue out at Angel. “Sure, sir. Regular or truffe?”

“Ooooh! Truffle, please!” she confirmed, Angel exclaiming in annoyance further.

“And now I can’t steal any back because truffle tastes like burned plastic!”

She giggled, sipping her drink again. “So, back to EZ and Camille. I think he’s mental too, to be fair. I mean I get that he’s going through a hell of a lot, I honestly do, but having her there for him, supporting him while he goes through it, I can’t see why he’d turn that down, why – as you put it – he's being somewhat masochistic about it all and punishing himself for something he couldn’t help.”

“Because he thinks it’d be selfish, and he’s been like that enough towards her as it is.”  

Bella pursed her lips a little, nodding slowly. “Yep, you’re right. Thinking on it, that’s exactly what he’s doing. I wish he wasn’t, though. For his sake and hers.”  

Angel shrugged, resting his hand atop hers. “No matter how crazy we think he is, I guess we just gotta respect what he wants. Even though he’s hella wrong.”  

The four days between then and EZ’s treatment beginning seemed to pass by in a blur, until the night before was upon him, EZ taking Sally for a two hour walk before returning to an empty clubhouse, figuring the guys likely thought he needed the peace and quiet of his own company, leaving the space vacant.  

The truth was, he was looking for any distraction he could. He was nervous. Who wouldn’t be at the prospect of having something that - in greater, less contained doses, of course - killed people, burning their skin and internal organs, and left entire cities poisoned and inhabitable when unstably released into the atmosphere.  

And it was being beamed into his brain, almost every day, for a month and a half.  

“So long as it shrinks the fucking thing, I suppose.” he muttered while scrolling through the menu of the local pizza shop, before remembering that his buddy Horace had recently branched out into deliveries. Oxtail, rice and peas and hard food it was. With a side of festival. He was starving. It was surprising he had an appetite at all, but then reasoned he hadn’t for most of the day, only fuelled by coffee and the few swigs of apple juice he’d had, plus a handful of almonds.  

“Might as well eat while you still feel like doing that.” Loss of appetite had been noted as one of the possible side effects, and if not that, then he knew the most common, the nausea and vomiting would likely mean that sustenance would fall to the bottom of his priorities list. Well, at least it wouldn’t hit him at once. Doctor Ruiz had advised it would likely begin to affect him after the second or third week.  

When the morning came, he was remarkably calm, leaving Sally sleeping on his bed and heading outside the yard to meet Bella, who was a few minutes early. Getting the first treatment over and done with was the easy part, he found, the nurses all lovely, the radiographer absolutely hilarious, setting him at ease with his infectious laugh and similar humour.  

“So, you got your music for me?” he asked, EZ pulling his cell out. He was told that he could make a playlist that the radiography team could play while he was undergoing treatment, Doctor DiMarco taking his phone from him and snort laughing at the name of the folder.  

“Chernobyl tunes,” he hissed. “Oh my lord, you’re a funny one, Ezekiel. Okay, you just lie there and get comfortable, a nurse will be in shortly with the mask you’ll have to wear for the duration of the treatment to keep your head nice and still, and off we go, my friend.”

Lying back on the table, EZ felt quite composed, giving the nurse a big smile when she came in, fitting him with the netted looking mask, EZ still being able to see through the thousands of tiny holes within it, being told that the treatment would begin momentarily before she left the room. Hearing the opening bars of the song Protection by Massive Attack filtering through the speakers, EZ closed his eyes as the machine above him began to hum.  

He’d chosen that song because prior to his relationship with Camille, he’d never heard of the band, but spent many evenings lying in her bed listening to them as they talked, EZ now wishing with everything he had that those moments had been more genuine from his perspective. She truly was wonderful.  

A few more minutes passed as he continued to think of her, a realisation hitting him; those moments, even steeped in the fact they’d come from a dark place, they must have been more genuine, for him to be sitting there drawing comfort from them now, remembering lying with his head in her lap as she’d stroked his hair, laughing at something he’d said, listening intently to him, being her wonderful, beautiful self.  

Maybe it was why it hurt so damned much now he had chosen to be without her, because while his intent hadn’t always been genuine, his love for her very much had been.  

Now he could separate between his true self and the changes that were because of his dark passenger, it made it worse in a way for him, to know just what it had demanded of him. If he could press a knife into his own head and cut the damned thing out himself, he would. He’d bleed rivers of blood for it to be gone, for it never have hampered him in the first place, to have never hurt Camille as badly as he had. It was a regret he knew he’d live with for a long time, or at least until he got over her, what he’d done to her, too. He was still emphatic about them not getting back together.  

The first two weeks of his treatment went by smoothly, everything fine until he hit the tail end of the third, the fatigue suddenly smacking into him like an out-of-control truck.

“EZ?” A hand gently shook his shoulder, waking him with a start. Turning, he saw Bishop, casting his eyes upwards as they sat together in the clubhouse. “Go to bed, hermano. You need rest.”  

He nodded, getting up and stretching, Biship giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “We got everything handled, don’t worry.” They’d been having an informal chat about how things currently lay with their endeavours, EZ trying hard to remain awake, and failing miserably. He trudged upstairs, stripping down to his boxers and flopping onto the bed, asleep within moments. He managed three hours, until the churning in his stomach awoke him, running to the bathroom to expel the contents into the toilet bowl.  

It was like that for the rest of the night, turning him into a zombie with a raging headache by morning.  

“It isn’t like it could hit me in waves, oh, fuck no. It had to all come at once, like bam, let’s fuck him up,” he complained mildly with laughter as he sat with Nestor the next morning, just him and a few of the girls who worked the bar there, the latter taking in the alcohol delivery, while he and the former drank coffee at a table.  

Nestor raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “I’m surprised you’re even out of bed, jeffe. I’d be burrowed in my pit if I were going through all of this.”  

He shrugged lightly, scratching his jaw. “Eh, I might go back up in a minute. I... I...” Suddenly, he felt strange, like something was slipping from him, his vision blurring, the last thing he was aware of being Nestor racing out of his seat, catching him as he toppled from his chair. Dark... strange sounds, Nestor’s voice... the taste of blood...  

“Hey, you back with me?” He attempted to focus, Nestor gently pulling his hand from beneath his head. “Seizure.”  

He’d been told he might suffer those more too, the pressure from the swelling upon his brain upping the risk, especially since he’d begun having them as a result of the tumour prior to the treatment beginning. He guessed he needed to let his doctor know, so they could up the medication he was on to prevent them. His oncologist had warned that they might need to re-examine the dosage, should the seizures begin again during the radiotherapy course.  

“Yeah, yeah I am,” he confirmed, rubbing his eyes, still feeling a little dazed, the side of his tongue sore, realising he’d bitten it in the throes of the convulsions. “Thanks for catching me.”

Nestor helped him to his feet, bracing a hand between his shoulders. “No problem.” He went back up to bed shortly after, managing to get a little more sleep, until the nausea awoke him. It was like that for another week, EZ worsening the further he went into his therapy, his anti-nausea meds only actually working if he could keep them down long enough for them to get into his system. More often than not, he couldn’t.  

Week four was agony, his headaches chronic, his mood low and irritable, being left alone for the most part, only his brother coming to regularly check on him, sleeping on the sofa some nights when he was really bad, just so he had someone there with him. Along with not being able to keep the anti-nausea drugs down, the same went for the whole other barrage of pills he had to swallow, including the drugs which assisted with controlling his seizures, Angel terrified he might collapse and hurt himself, swallow his tongue, anything.  

Eventually, he managed to map his sickness, knowing that early morning was a good time to be able to keep something in, so taking the pills he could on an empty stomach. The doses he took later in the day after food, though, when his nausea was rampant, usually didn’t last long enough to take effect. He was tired, he was sick to his stomach, his head continuously pounded in pain, he ran on little sleep, and everything was just too much.  

“Hey, oh, love. You look so poorly,” Bella cooed softly, stroking his shaven head as she sat down on his bed, EZ curled into a ball, feeling like death. Once the radiation had affected his hair, meaning it had begun to fall out in patches, he’d decided to do away with it completely, shaving his head clean, his facial hair remaining intact save for a little patch beneath his chin. “Is there anything I can do for you, anything you need?” she asked. He looked delirious with exhaustion and pain, yet the word EZ croaked as he lay there was clear as a bell.  

“Camille.”  

He managed to fall asleep with Bella lovingly stroking his head, but when he woke up, it was the hand of another who offered such affection, turning onto his back and opening his eyes to see her there, returned to his side.  

“Hey sleepy,” she whispered, EZ feeling tears pool in his eyes, tears of fatigue, of gratitude, of love, of remorse.  

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, Camille stroking his head, shushing him softly.  

“So am I.” Leaning to him, she kissed his cheek, her scent so comforting, the zesty notes of her perfume mixed with gardenia filling his nose. “I’m sorry you didn’t ask for me sooner, so I could have been here for you. At least I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded weakly, turning to push himself into her arms. “Thank god.”  

There was much, much more he needed to say to her, but at that moment, all he needed, all they both needed, was the comfort of being reunited. Anything else could wait.  

#ez reyes #ez reyes fanfiction #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes smut #ez reyes x ofc #ez reyes fanfic #ez reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

[foxsimthings]

Kekoa Mahi’ai for @freakishnature​ ‘s November Charna

Goofball | Glutton | Animal Enthusiast Twenty-eight | Former Wrestler | Current ??? | He/him

v v v

When they chose his name, they knew their son would be strong. How strong, perhaps, remained to be seen.

Kekoa was making history since the night he was born. Nurses crowded around the bedside of his poor mother, chattering and murmuring to one another as the doctor declared the birth of a fifteen pound baby boy - a record-breaker. His three older sisters were all of average size but Kekoa came in nearly double their size. And as Anela and Lokela took in the sight of their only son, he could only be named one thing - the warrior.

Given such a remarkable start, it became less and less surprising that the boy ought to have a remarkable life. Kekoa was something of a Sulani celebrity, if only at first by virtue of his birth bringing all manner of photographer and record-holder to town. And he was hard to miss, a boy larger than his peers all his life. But he also grew to be warm and kind, tending only to anger when brought to the defense of others. Despite being the youngest, Kekoa - affectionately called Koa by most - grew up his sisters’ biggest fan and greatest protector. For all his kindness, none dared for a moment to learn what wrath might fall on their heads should a hair on his family’s heads be harmed. 

By the time he left high school, Koa stood at 7′ tall and nearly 300 pounds. He’d been active on the football and wrestling teams, a moderate student, and graduated with the honour of being recognized for having the whitest teeth in class. 

After school, Koa got up to all manner of madness. He worked as a stunt man, acted in a few movies and commercials, carried on wrestling under the name Tsunami, helped to start and run a local marine wildlife rescue and rehabilitation center, did some men’s mental health work in the prison system. It would seem to most that the man was unstoppable, fueled by boyish laughter and more food than a small village could get through in a week. Kekoa never seemed to worry about much - he always appeared to have just enough of a thing to spare. Just enough money to be comfortable, just enough time to relax, just enough food to bring a plate or two to the vulnerable in his community. 

While life couldn’t be called perfect, for a long while it didn’t seem as though anything could put a damper on his mood for long. 

It was a stupid mistake. It always is. An afterthought, one last little thing that proves to be one’s downfall. Koa knew better, of course, than to swim at dusk. Everyone did. In the end, he wouldn’t even remember why he went out that evening - maybe it was to impress a girl, or fetch something off his skiff without hauling the rowboat out. Maybe he just got caught in a moment of ‘well, it hasn’t happened yet, why should it happen now?’

Bull shark + mysterious dark figure swimming overhead = bad news.

Losing his leg meant a lot of things came to an end, whether they needed to or not. Koa was still in physical therapy when he decided he wouldn’t wrestle any more, no more stunts, no more acting. It felt for a long while as though there might not be anything left for him, and as he sat in his wheelchair glaring at the sea, it got so difficult not to hate the shark, the ocean -- the world. 

But nothing lasts forever. In time, all things become routine. The prosthetic would never feel like skin but it looked close enough that people stopped asking questions. And before long he could walk without all that much of a limp, and he could run again, swim again. Before long, Koa couldn’t remember what having his leg felt like in the first place. 

So now he’s back, albeit a bit directionless. Having given up most of the things he occupied himself with in the past, Kekoa Mahi’ai has set out to see where life might take him next. A shot at love seems as good a destination as any.

Personality:

• Koa is a great lover of a great many things. He adores animals of all kinds and has sustained many injuries at the hands - claws, and teeth - of animals. He’s also terribly protective of his family and has scared most of the men in Sulani away from dating the sister closest in age to him for fear of being folded in half.  • Adventure abound! Kekoa will say yes to almost anything once, which tends to send him on all manner of adventure. That isn’t to say he’s in Strangeville every weekend giving piggyback rides to ETs, but he can easily leave in the morning with nothing in his pockets and come home with a table he learned to make from someone on the beach. • Understandably, the man eats a ton. Not only is he naturally a bulky boy, he’s also pretty active and maintains a... beefy stature. But Koa also loves to cook and delights in sharing Sulani dishes as often as possible.  • He’s the king of loud-print shirts and dad jokes, and Koa never has a problem laughing at his own jokes. Someone has to, after all. • Being exceptionally kind > being exceptionally reasonable • Kekoa is the definition of the guy stereotype who, when asked what he’s thinking about, can reply ‘nothing’ and genuinely mean it. He’s just a generally happy, peaceful dude and doesn’t tend to sweat the small stuff. Or most stuff. • Shy? Not even a little bit. Kekoa is very outgoing and confident, an extrovert to the max - but he’s gentle with his introvert friends and, growing up with a few, knows when to pull them out of their shell and when to wrap up in a blanket next to them and watch Ace Ventura for the 50th time. • Despite not being perhaps the most clever man in the world, Koa is a thoughtful guy, tuned in to others and keenly receptive to the vibes they’re putting out. #goodvibesbutonlywhenyou’refeelinit

Fun Facts:

• Kekoa almost always wears flipflops and shorts. He’ll wear pants to be formal but he’s most comfy in shorts. • He’s one of those people that never upgrade their phone. He’s had the same flip phone since he was twenty and tends to text a bit like a spider falling down the stairs, but his hands are too big for most phones to text comfortably. • Internet lingo is completely lost on him, and he types with one finger. The man is not very web savvy and his work laptop is so riddled with viruses it barely runs any more.  • Koa was June in the Men of Wrestling calendar five years ago and has appeared in a few magazines one might find under their mom’s mattress. • Kekoa’s original wrestling name was Sulani Tsunami, but a porn star with the same name sent him a cease and desist.  • He loves to have his head or back scratched and will almost definitely fall asleep. Speaking of sleep, the man can fall asleep anywhere and everywhere - and will, if he’s even slightly dozy, tip his head back for a quick cat nap. • The man loves to dance and, when traveling, enjoys visiting local clubs to tear it up.

🎵 

#novemberbc #time got away from me #i know i'm so close to being late lmao #sims 4 #ts4

[angelaiswriting]

Of Matches and Dates | Bandit x fem!reader

[video by rodnae productions from pexels]

✏️ Pairing: Bandit x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: with Valentine’s Day around the corner, Dominic’s friends have managed to convince him to download a dating app. (Not requested, but inspired by the lovely @kind-wolf​ as always)

✏️ A/N: this is just a lil something for Valentine’s day. I’m still working on my fluff skills :’) Domi’s dating profile is at the bottom of the fic: it took me forever to make but I’m so proud :’) enjoy 💛

✏️ Warnings: none :’)

✏️ Word-count: 5,274

OF MATCHES AND DATES

 The club is packed — and Dominic is too tired to even care, for once. His back is burning, and there’s a nasty gash on his left thigh that a doctor has stitched up too tightly and that’s constantly making him ground his teeth every time the muscle tenses up.

He’s forgotten whose stupid idea it was to go out clubbing not even three hours after coming back from a mission on the other face of the Earth, but he does remember he’s there to be Eli’s wingman just in case his date dumps him last minute. It won’t happen, of course, but the kid still worries when it comes to a pretty lady he’s matched with on Matcher.

Matcher is the latest novelty at the base, or so that’s the impression he’s had ever since his jet landed not so long ago. Even Monika has signed up for an account — It’s great to pass time, Domi! You should download it, it’s free, or that’s what she said the second before tearing his phone from his hands to download it herself.

“Here, I brought you drink!” Alexsandr tears him from his musings — and the dull soreness still crawling underneath his skin — and unceremoniously slaps a shot of vodka on the small, high table he’s been leaning against. By the time the glass is halfway to his lips, Dominic has the time to notice half of its contents have sloshed out onto the metal surface of that dingy thing; he doesn’t care: he simply tilts his head back, lets the alcohol wash down his throat and prays it’ll numb everything to a low hum.

“Where is everyone else?” he asks, hissing when someone bumps into his back in passing. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt like every single muscle in his body felt so pulled and tight, but he’s already set up his mind to barge into Harry’s office the next morning and ask for — or demand — the longest leave he’s ever thought of asking.

Alex shrugs and quickly empties the shot he has in his right hand, for the one in his left is already empty. The bar is right behind them, though, so they both know they’ll be making back and forth more times than one would rather know. “Somewhere in there,” he replies, jutting his chin in the general direction of the mess of bodies behind Dominic’s back. “Adriano has a date, too, so he ditched us.”

“So did Elias, Monika and Seamus.” He turns around briefly, throws a look around to try and see if he can get a glimpse of the friends they’ve come here with, but miserably fails.

“Stupid dating apps, making men our age third-wheel like this.” Alexsandr groans something in Russian then, but it’s under his breath and Dominic would never be able to tell what that was with the noise in there — he also doesn’t speak Russian, he finds himself realizing a minute too late. “But I met the French at the bar, they rented out a VIP room for the night.”

“We should gatecrash it.”

Ten minutes later, eight of which spent downing one drink after the other in the vain attempt to outdrink each other, both men walk into the French’s VIP room behind Gustave Kateb, whose English has already started slurring into French when he doesn’t focus enough.

The French aren’t the only people there: Marius sends Dominic a pleading look as Lion fills his head with his usual bullshit, and a bunch of recruits who’ve somehow had the chance to hang around the more seasoned operators sit on the couch on the far left of the room and listen to what Y/N and Finka are enlightening them with. The two women turn around to greet them and although Dominic’s eyes trail down the plummeting neckline of Y/N’s shimmery top, he still has enough attention to spare to notice how the rookies hang from her lips as she keeps on talking.

Alexsandr’s exclamation of jubilee, however, tears him from the sight of the only one he’s had a crush on for a long time now and there’s nothing he can do to stop the other from dragging him towards the couch Montagne is sitting on with not one, not two, but three bottles of vodka on the low table in front of him.

“What do a Russian, a French and a German have in common?” Gilles asks, raising a shot glass and chuckling drunkenly as icy droplets of alcohol trail down the glass and onto the still-bruised skin between his right thumb and forefinger.

“Their hatred for this goddamn dating app?”

But Alex slaps him up the back of his head as he takes the shot their tipsy friend is handing him. “Alcohol!” he booms, making more than a couple of heads turn around before drinking his glass dry as though it didn’t contain but water.

They end up sitting together, Dominic to the right and Alexsandr to the left of Montagne, their knees pressing into each other’s as they joke and drink. They’re the only three in the room that have just come back from a mission abroad, and no one comes to bother them for a long time as they try to relax and let go. The topic of discussion, however, quickly shifts back to the fucking dating app.

Matcher seems to be all the rage, and it somehow manages to sneak its way into even the most unassuming conversations. Neither of them would by now be able to assert with utmost certainty if there truly is someone at the base that doesn’t use it — apart from the people that have spent the last two weeks on a mission, completely detached from the civilian world, that is.

“I’ve heard Blitz has already had something like fifteen dates so far, in less than three weeks at that!” Gilles’ English is softened and slurred out by his French, the same French that always comes back every time he goes beyond a certain threshold when it comes to drinking.

“Fifteen?!” Alexsandr almost cries out, comically counting on his fingers until he’s reached the right number, almost as though by doing that, he’ll be able to fully comprehend the extent of Elias’ adventures.

“He’s fucked with only seven of them, though,” adds Dominic, tipping down another shot before leaning back against his seat, spreading his arms on the backrest and letting his hands hang against the cool faux leather.

Yet again, Alex counts on his fingers — up to seven, and then up to fifteen, just to see how big the difference between the two is. “Christ,” is his only comment just before he takes a long sip straight from the bottle, long enough to finish the two fingers of liquid that remain in it.

“Monique made me download it,” and it takes them a minute to put two and two together and realize Gilles is talking about IQ in his frenchified English. “Snatched mon portable from my hands and gave it back with that fucking app on my home screen.”

Dominic scoffs, the French’s experience with his colleague hitting closer to home than he would have thought possible before today. “Did the same to me. If you had given her five minutes more, she would’ve created an account for you like she did mine.”

They’re curious, both the French and the Russian, and while Gilles is chill, Dominic knows Alexsandr is not going to let him live this down. So, their quick Show us! turns into some rearranging on their seats so that Dominic ends up finding himself trapped between his two friends, looming over him like some vultures.

“Since when do you like cooking dates?” asks Alex when the app opens on Dominic’s personal profile page.

“Monika chose everything, said ‘pussy’ isn’t respectable enough as an interest. Cooking dates apparently work better at getting women, or so she says.”

“You sure she didn’t want you to match up with her?”

“Don’t listen to Frenchie, show us who it makes you match with!” Alex’s hand is quick at shooting out, but Dominic is quicker, pulling his phone away so that his now pouting friend can’t get a hold of it.

“I’ll use it. I don’t want you messing up my app.”

“I thought you didn’t like the idea of having it.”

“And I don’t! I’m just bored!”

But he still touches the search icon, and the other two almost hold their breaths as they wait for the shitty reception inside the club to allow the page to fully load and replace the pulsating hearts of the logo to leave their place to profile pictures.

The first is a 37-year-old woman with curly ginger hair and eyes of two different colors — they’re both brown, but there’s some blue in the left one, as well.

“Pretty,” says Gilles just as Dominic reads what her profession is — florist. “Match with her.”

But Dom is good — and he tells them that, pushing their hands away from his phone to prevent them from doing things with his app. “Make your own account and stop bugging me about mine,” he replies as his fingers tap the bubble with the golden star icon — not a match, more like a ‘save for later’ and although he’s had plenty of one-night stands, ‘saving’ someone ‘for later’ makes him feel fifty different shades of dirty.

The second woman is South African, a bit too far away, but with his job, he could end up anywhere in the world. So, he saves Bea for later before Alex makes him change his search parameters so that the system would find people closer to his actual location.

There’s a barista he’s seen plenty of times at the pub he and Marius often go to. She’s pretty, on the tall side, with hair cut chin-level short and a tattoo that snakes its way up the side of her neck and that he now sees trails down deeper underneath the low-cut tank top she’s wearing in her profile picture. Matcher says her name is Andrea, so he can now put his curiosity to sleep and stop wondering how he should call her.

Alexsandr taps the two-heart button to match him up with her before he can stop him, and the three of them sit there for a long time — or so at least it seems, with the rest of the party blatantly ignoring them as operators come and go as they please — checking out women and deciding what to do with them. And really, it sounds so bad in Dom’s mind when he puts it into those words — they’re judging someone based on one picture and literally three other facts about them — but that’s still the truth of the thing. Some women end up in the starred ‘save for later’ section — which they’ve found out is much nicer than it seems and it’s just a way to still be able to chat without necessarily match yet —, some get skipped, and Andrea is still the only one in his matches — she still has to match back with him, and deep down Dominic can’t help but wonder how their next encounter at the pub is going to feel like.

It’s endless profiles later, when Montagne stands up to ‘go piss’ — or so he says, kicking finesse out of the window — that a familiar face pops up on the app.

Alex chuckles, almost choking on his hundredth vodka, taken by the surprise of such a sight. “Hey! But that’s —” He’s cut off when Dominic elbows him in his left side, where he knows Alex is bruised — there’s no need to yell Y/N’s name in a room full of people drinking, talking and — he notices when he quickly looks around to make sure no one is paying them any mind — making out in the love-seat in a corner.

Dominic should have expected it, really, Monika did tell him everyone and their mother has downloaded Matcher at the base, and that includes Y/N, but he’s still taken aback because he’s had a crush on her for the longest time now and while he has balls of steel and he’s known for it, he still has… problems approaching her when it doesn’t come to missions or training.

But by God, is she pretty! Both in-person and in that picture still floating on his screen. There’s a sunflower field behind her and she’s sporting trekking boots, camo shorts, and a white tank top on a dusty, Ukrainian road. He was there, when the picture was taken — seven months ago, during the last mission they had been deployed to together — with a bunch of other operators, of course. They had taken a couple of days off when things had been wrapped and some of them had stayed behind before finally coming back to Hereford.

And there she is, grinning at him from up close — technologically speaking, that is —, dog tags disappearing between her breasts under her tank top and her head tilted to the side, eyes almost squinting against the late-morning sun. There’s everything on her profile bubble — less than ten miles away, her age, her country of origin, and then that vague ‘police’ typed out next to the white icon of a briefcase, a description Monika’s put into his profile as well.

“So?” But Alex is distracted by Gilles coming back and sitting down once again next to Dominic, and he doesn’t continue.

“Found anyone interesting while I was gone?”

“Y/N,” is Alex’s unsolicited reply. “But this chicken won’t do shit about it.”

Dominic groans. “Why do you have to be so annoying? Jesus! There, matched her. You happy now?” he complains, tapping the match! bubble with the two hearts before he has much time to overthink. “It’ll make for a good laugh when she opens her app.”

They’re all bored anyway, and he’s known for — almost — always choosing the fun way of doing something. She will match him, send him a haha domi gotcha! great to see u on this app — all lowercase, often with that ‘u’ instead of ‘you’ — through the chat feature, and then they’ll be able to laugh it off during training. It could make for a nice sort of inside joke, he muses as he puts his phone away for the night and reaches for the bottle of vodka.

By the time his friends drag him back to the dance floor to try and loosen up their sore muscles, he’s received some matching requests and more than just ‘a few’ messages in his chat from so many different people that he feels his head is spinning.

It’s early morning already when he, Alex and Gilles wait for their Uber to come and pick them up, all of them with more drinks in their body than there is water. The other two have downloaded Matcher for shits and giggles and are now busy sorting through their recommended profiles.

They’ve all warmed up to it — they’ve all used other dating apps in the past, so one more is not a problem, even more when they’re easily bored and with fewer and fewer ideas on how to pass the time they spend between missions.

It’s only when Alexsandr complains that Why am I not getting hot operators too? with a comic pout on his face that Dominic’s phone goes off vibrating in the back pocket of his pants for the millionth time. He picks it out to finally delete the stupid app — too many notifications in too little time, and he’s too tired to be patient.

The notification message reads It’s a match! with an obnoxious sparkling heart emoji, though, and that suddenly turns his mood around and makes him curious. He hasn’t got a real, mutual match yet, just lots of stars that are probably enough to light up the night sky. So he unlocks his phone, opens the app, and after the rather-cheesy explosion of hearts going off on the screen, he finally sees who’s matched him back and the name both knocks the wind out of him and makes him laugh, all at the same time.

*

He brings it up to her the next day. It’s just after his training session, when he’s walking around the grounds of the Base to take his mind off of things and Y/N is leaving the armory facility. She waves at him, and he can’t but jog up to her to walk with her for a bit.

There’s some small talk, stuff about plans for this next stretch of time before a mission, catching up like friends or colleagues do, and then he drops it — Now that we’ve matched on that dating app, we should go on a date! He says it with a smile in his eyes and laughter in his voice, but it all fades into silence when he realizes that what he’s seeing on her face is confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

He frowns. Maybe she doesn’t remember it. “We matched on Matcher last night. I got your notification when I left the club.” It comes off as a question — what could have been an attempt at shooting his shot in a best-case scenario or something done out of fun in any other case, seems to be quickly turning around to bite him in the ass.

The look on her face is of utter mortification as she looks up at him, realization slowly and then quickly catching up on her like some avalanche. ‘Mortified’ is the last thing he would have thought to see on her face, and he’s taken aback, for once he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. Maybe she doesn’t do older. Or she doesn’t do colleagues. Or maybe she sees him as a big brother — most of the recruits seem to somehow see him that way for the first months, despite him never doing anything to even remotely prompt that kind of behavior.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she finally says, hiding her face behind her hands. “I was shit-faced last night. Lera and I were fucking around with my app since she says I always get the hot ones, I must’ve done it at that moment. I didn’t think I’d get people from the Base, I’m so sorry. Forget about that, please: I didn’t want to make things weird.”

He’s… bummed, there’s no other way to put it. It kind of stings his pride, in a way, but he sees where she’s coming from. He just… didn’t expect for her to not take it jokingly — after all, they are similar in that, and their sense of humor always makes them find the fun side in almost anything.

“Nah, don’t worry.”

But he’s still thinking about it three days later, and both Marius and Elias, and then Monika, Gilles and Alex as well, have tried to come up with a way to fix it — they don’t exactly know what needs fixing, it’s just a stupid dating app, but the look in Y/N’s eyes is still mortified every time Dominic crosses her path.

It’s only when he’s chilling with Lera and Elias on Wednesday night, discussing possible plans for Valentine’s day, coming up on Sunday, that the topic of Matcher and the apparently dramatic match with Y/N crawls its way into the conversation once more. It’s just the three of them in the lounge room, feet up on the coffee table or on the long part of the L-shaped couch, legs crossed at the ankles.

And for a moment it’s like going back to stupid high school crushes when Lera lets it slip that Y/N is simply too embarrassed to admit that she squealed and giggled like a teenager when she got Domi’s match request over the weekend. That that is the reason why she’s so mortified and she — Lera — is tired of trying to convince her that there’s nothing wrong in finding a colleague hot. Brunsmeier is a handsome man, I’d be surprised if the thought had never crossed your mind! — that’s how she recounts it, glancing at Dominic and shrugging her shoulders.

“She’s just afraid the truth might come out,” she says. “To which I’m not opposed, I’m tired of hearing her babble about it every time she starts doubting herself.”

At first, Dominic’s only reply is a pensive hum as he brings the almost-empty beer bottle to his lips for a sip. “I didn’t think she’d somehow take it personally. I would’ve expected her to joke about it, that’s why I was confused.”

They end up thinking of a plan — send her flowers and chocolates, with a note attached, and then show up at her and Lera’s shared dorm room to take her out on a Valentine’s date. His playful crush isn’t that much of a secret when it comes to his friends, after all: he does get drunk — eventually — and he does let his tongue loose — loose enough to hint at stuff he wouldn’t exactly boast while sober.

So, the next day, they put their plan into motion. A delivery man delivers Y/N the biggest bouquet of roses Dominic has managed to find on the website of a nearby flower shop at almost one in the morning, and it’s not only a surprise to her, but to all the operators and recruits that have stayed behind in the mess hall after breakfast as well.

They watch as she eyes the bouquet, lips parted, a frown of almost suspicion on her face — and from that table, Lera sends him a knowing smirk and a raise of an eyebrow that seems to tell him that she was not expecting such an obnoxious thing.

The exchange doesn’t miss Monika’s eye, and the operator is quick at putting two and two together. She slaps his bicep, and when he turns around to glare at her, almost intimidating her to shut her mouth, she smirks. “Look at you, who would’ve thought?” Her German is hushed, and it makes their fellow German colleagues chuckle, too. “Decided to make a move?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I told you that app wasn’t that bad!” she adds when Elias tells her how things have come to that.

The next day, Dominic makes sure Lera leaves his box of Swiss pralines on Y/N’s bed — and she promptly texts him back when her roommate and friend finds it after her monthly session in Harry’s office.

When Saturday comes around, Y/N’s confusion has taken the place of the mortified look in her eyes, and Lera has started trying to convince him to come forward before her friend would start thinking of some joke. Y/N’s not the type to get spooked out — a last-minute secret admirer just in time for Valentine’s day delivering gifts is the least dangerous thing she’s probably ever come across, but he knows it’s time to ask her out.

He finds her in the very lounge room Elias and Lera talked him into moving things forward. She’s sitting on the window bench, staring out at the park of the base and at the flour-like snowflakes coming down and twirling in the wind, before it turns into rain before nightfall.

“Hey,” she greets him before he has time to make a sound, seeing his reflection in the windowpane. “If you’re going to tease me for the ginormous bouquet I got the other day like everyone else did, please don’t.” She chuckles, though, and turns around when he sits at the other end of the bench.

“Nah, I won’t be childish this time.” There’s a grin on his face as he pulls his feet up and rests his arms on his bent knees, teasing her own leg with a foot for a moment just to make her laugh. “Have any clues on who the secret admirer is?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m quite sure Lera knows who this is, but I haven’t been able to tear it out of her yet.”

It’s quiet for a while before Dominic starts saying Look, there’s something I— before he stops mid-sentence and looks up at her. She’s staring back at him almost expectantly, when someone dashes through the hall and distracts them for a moment.

“I’m sorry that match made you feel the way it did,” he says, “but I’m still glad I sent my request. And I know deep down you are too, you’re just afraid of things going the wrong way.” When she frowns, her lips parting, he scoots closed and lays a hand on her knee. “A little bird told me.”

“Yeah, a Russian one, maybe?” She covers her face with her hands, much like she did at the beginning of the week, before she sighs. “Lera likes to babble.”

“I don’t mind.” His hand gives her knee a gentle squeeze, and he waits for her to look at him again. “It finally gave me the excuse to ask you out on Valentine’s day. If you’re down for it, that is.”

*

On Sunday, he shows up at her door at half-past six, wearing fucking tux pants for once in his life. He’s cleaned up nice — trimmed his beard a bit, combed his hair back with some cream, stole a few drops of Alex’s perfume when he and Gilles made themselves at home in his room while he was getting ready. She’s begged him to skip the roses next time, and so he’s standing there with a bunch of wildflowers in one hand, wondering why the fuck there’s butterflies in his stomach.

She’s just as beautiful as ever when she opens the door, and Lera is nowhere to be found when she invites him in so that she can put his flowers in some water. Red dress, black coat, killer heels, painted lips — she almost takes his breath away.

“You’re stunning.” The honesty in his voice makes her stutter for a moment before he lets her give him a hug.

“You’re not any less,” she grins, pecking his cheek before following him outside and then to the garage level.

He makes her ride behind him on his bike, and the dinner at the overpriced fancy restaurant he’s managed to book last-minute passes in a flash. But even despite that, he doesn���t miss the way she warms up — and opens up — the more they chat: long gone is the mortification he knows she’s felt at the idea of possibly having made things awkward or of having given her crush on him away, and they actually find themselves getting to know each other better through tales from both missions and their civilian lives and childhood.

When they’re forced to leave the restaurant to leave their place to the second turn of patrons on such a busy February night, they walk around the center of the city arm in arm, both wrapped up tightly in their jackets and with their helmets in hand. They talk and talk, and the more they do, the more that faint shadow of embarrassment they felt throughout the week evaporates from their shoulders much like the condensation leaving their lips.

Neither of them is in the mood to return to Hereford just yet. It’s nice to be out and about, doing normal things, falling for what Dominic considers a well-thought-out marketing strategy — although he won’t lie by saying he’d rather be doing something else tonight, or spend time with someone else.

“I’m glad you matched me,” she suddenly confesses, the both of them hurrying up to cross the street before the traffic light turns red. “I would’ve never had the guts to. And I’m glad you did what you did and that we’re now here.”

He grins at her, pulling her closer into his side by wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Vodka is the best remedy against bullshitting instead of taking action,” he jokes, and she laughs.

He stares at her as she does, unable to keep in that chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m sure, Sanya always says the same bullshit,” she laughs, shaking her head before pointing at the bowling alley with her helmet, her other arm wrapped securely around his waist. “I don’t wanna go back yet. What do you think about some bowling?”

When they get back at the Base at around three in the morning, Dominic has a rip in the crotch of his pants and they’re both still giggling like kids at the memory of how comically loud the ripping sound seemed when he bent to throw his ball. They were joking around, in the bowling track further from the entrance, when it happened and she had to stand right behind him as he walked back to their booth, both of them laughing loudly, his cheeks burning red in an uncharacteristic moment of embarrassment.

“Bring me your pants when you wake up, I’ll fix them for you,” she chuckles, her hand still wrapped tightly in his.

“We should go bowling again,” he replies instead, looking down at her, now a bit shorter since she’s walking barefoot, her heels in his other hand. “With a proper attire this time, though.”

“Sure, why not?” Her excitement makes him smile, and even in the night lights always on throughout the Base during the night, he can see how her eyes seem to grin up at him. “I’d be ecstatic to watch you lose miserably a second time.”

“You only had luck!” But it’s not a real complaint — after all, he is shit at bowling, but he’s loved spending tonight with her and he’d be happy to replicate it more than just once. “And I let you win.”

“Of course.” Her chuckle is low now that they’re in the sleeping quarters.

And although they should go to bed and get ready for the day of training and simulations awaiting for them when they wake up, they still seem to linger, standing there, in front of the door of her dorm, still hand in hand, smiling at each other.

“Thank you for tonight,” she says eventually, taking a step closer to give him a quick good-night hug, and she grabs her heels when he hands them to her.

“Likewise. I really enjoyed it. We should do it again.” He puts the idea out there, but when she smiles sweetly at him all his doubts seem to sizzle and evaporate.

“We should,” she nods, her fingers playing with his. 

“Just ring me up when you’re free from your Matcher dates,” he grins, winking at her, hinting at the quite numerous dates she told him she had since downloading the app.

“Nah, I’m deleting it. I got the one match that matters most, so there’s no reason in keeping on looking.” She balances herself by putting both hands on his shoulders and pecks the corner of his mouth. “Good night, Domi.”

When he opens the door of his room, still grinning, the last thing he’s expecting to find is some of his friends waiting around for him just to know how his date has gone.

“So?” Monika asks, standing up from where she’s been sitting in his desk chair, eyes tired and hair tousled.

“We brought vodka,” Alex grins, raising an almost empty bottle while Gilles points at the empty glasses on the nightstand. “We’ve been waiting for this day for too long!”

“Sorry, man,” Marius says from his bed, both eyes closed and ankles crossed.

“We couldn’t stop them and shooting them dead wasn’t an option,” is what Elias aads, and Dominic knows it’s going to be a long night. But when he’s done talking, he knows he’s deleting that goddamn app, too.

[credits: psd (mine) | dominic | random guy #1 | random guy #2]

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

#dominic brunsmeier #r6s bandit #dominic brunsmeier x reader #r6s bandit x reader #r6s imagine #dominic brunsmeier imagine #r6s bandit imagine #rainbow six siege imagine #angelaiswriting

[mickeymouse-moshpit]

street lights, people

A/N: In the biker AU I learned about through the amazing @maybege‘s Biker!Paz and Biker!Boba upcoming stories, I created a pediatrician!reader who falls in love (eventually, I’m talking a few parts here) with Biker!Fennec Shand. I use as much gender neutral language as possible, but reader is AFAB and uses she/they pronouns. Also hi, May! it’s me that anon who dropped by a couple times. I hope you all enjoy this, I'm sorry there isn’t more Fennec/peds!reader interaction, but I will have more in the future I promise!

P.s: let’s all suspend our disbelief when it comes to the judge doing strange things, had to have conflict somewhere

Summary: When the local pediatrician has to go to a hearing for one of her patients, she stumbles across Fennec Shand, the head of the local chapter of Bikers Against Child Abuse (BACA). 

Rating: T for now, E in the future (possibly) 

Warnings: References to past child abuse, domestic violence, NO descriptions of the actual acts

Chapter One: January 8th

“Okay, Seb. You look good, I don’t see any reason why you can’t go back to school on Monday.”

“Really, Doc? I can’t even stay out one more week?”

“Sorry, bud. I know another week of winter break would be nice, but you gotta go back to the real world. Sucks, but I got told nope too when I asked for Monday off.”

“Fiiiiiine I’ll go back.”

“Good, good. Mom, how are we feeling today?”

“Much better, things have been stable at home but I’m nervous that something is going to happen tonight.”

“Do you have BACA’s contact? If not, I can get Max to give it to you when you check out. They can swing by tonight after the hearing to make sure nothing happens to you and Seb.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. Do you think they would mind?”

“From what I’ve seen, they won’t mind at all. When I was in residency, there was a kiddo that the chapter there took day and night shifts for three weeks while the father was out on bail while the trial happened. If a kid needs it, they’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you, for everything. Will we see you this afternoon?”

“For sure, I’ve got to get all my notes signed then I’ll be heading over there.”

“Doc, will you sit with me after you’re finished?”

“Of course, Seb. Do you want me to bring anything with me?”

“Do you have any of those peanut butter cookies?”

“Seb! She’s a busy person!”

“It’s okay, and yes I do. I made them last night just in case you might want some today.” You smiled at him and he beamed back. “Okay you two, head on out and Max will take care of you. I’ll see you over there.”

Seb bounced out of the room, his mom following behind them.

You shook your head and headed out of the exam room and into your office, closing the door behind you. You unlocked your computer and pulled up his chart, finished typing up the note you had started that morning before he arrived. You read and reread the note, making sure it was as accurate and representative of Seb’s course since discharge from the hospital as you could make it without having seen him every day. Finally satisfied, you signed it and called CPS to make sure they knew it was done.

You leaned back in the black leather chair, pondering how much of your credibility you would lose if you showed up in the Winnie the Pooh dress you had worn because of the proportion of toddlers on the schedule that morning. You sighed and pushed yourself up and toward the hook on the door to your office and pulled down the suit that lived there. It was plain black but tailored perfectly. You cut an imposing picture when you paired it with the sharp white button down and simple black pumps that you wore when you needed a confidence boost. You slid the pants on, and ditched the dress before buttoning up the shirt and tucking it in. You put the jacket on, then your boots. The pumps would have to wait until you got to the courthouse, seeing as they were currently sitting on the passenger seat of your car. You gathered your things and made sure the computer was locked again before clicking off the lights and shutting the door behind you.

You stopped at the front desk where Max handed you the sealed manilla envelope that held the morning’s note before they went to lunch. You grabbed your overcoat, the soft wool soothing under your fingertips as you put it on over your suit. It had started to snow while you were in clinic, coating everything with fresh white powder. You would be more excited about it if you weren’t about to go have a hand in deciding a young kid’s fate. You shivered as you turned on the seat warmer and let the car warm up while you plugged your phone in and got your seatbelt on. You pulled out of the spot and onto the highway.

***

You sat for a moment more, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths, counting in and out. Satisfied, you made sure the document was in your briefcase before putting on your dress shoes and getting out. You stepped carefully, not wanting to show up wet and shivering from the snow. You smiled when you saw the few bikes parked outside the courthouse. You knew BACA had been working with Seb and his family as long as you knew him, but this was the first time you had been to the courthouse for a hearing.

You almost made it inside but skidded on a small patch of ice a few feet from the door. You would have fallen, but a couple of strong arms grabbed and steadied you.

“Whoa, there! I would ask where the non-skid footwear is but the more important thing, are you okay?”

You looked at the woman who had caught you, struck dumb for a moment. She was wearing a leather jacket with a charcoal grey wool sweater underneath. Her hair was pulled into a braid that disappeared down her back and she was wearing a smirk that made you blush.

“Sorry about that. I almost made it too, ugh! Yeah, I’m fine. I remembered too late that my boots don’t fit in my briefcase so had to risk it. Thanks for saving me.”

She kept one hand on your midback as you walked through the door.

“It’s no problem, just maybe wear the boots next time.” She let you go as you got past the mats that kept the floors from being too slippery. You nodded in response and walked to the stairs that led up to the courtrooms. You steadied your breathing as you walked up the marble. You pushed the door and stepped inside, sitting just behind Seb and his mom.

***

“… and plan for follow up in four weeks, or sooner if needed.” You finished reading the note.

“Thank you, doctor. You may step down. We will reconvene after a fifteen-minute recess.” The judged banged the gavel once and left for their chambers.

You made it down the step in one piece and headed for the door, grabbing your briefcase as you went. You wanted a drink of water and needed to give Seb his cookies before he had to go back inside. You grabbed your briefcase and sat down on the bench with Seb. His mom was a few feet away, whispering to the lawyer and social worker on the case. She looked worried.

“How’re you feeling, kiddo?” You pulled a water bottle and the baggie of cookies out, handing them to Seb before getting out your own water.

“I’m okay, I think.” He took a sip of water. “Mom’s worried, she won’t say anything to me, but I know she is.”

“She’s your mom and doesn’t have control over this outcome. That’s enough to make anyone worry. Are you worried?”

“I don’t know, a little. This time it was really bad, and I know we’ve got plans for leaving but it just hasn’t happened yet. I think something happened, but I don’t know. I don’t want to leave.”

“It’s okay to be worried, whatever happens, you two will take it in stride. You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

“Thanks, Doc. And thanks for the cookies, I know mom wasn’t happy I asked about them but I’m really glad you made them.”

“No problem, Seb.” You took the cookie he offered and savored it, wondering what the new judge was going to say. They were new to the town, new to the case. You just hoped they would be fair.

***

You walked out of the marble building with a silent Seb and mom beside you. 30 days. They had 30 days to find a way out of that house or Seb would be sent to live with his grandparents two counties away and barred from seeing his mom until she was out of the house. You could have sworn you heard disgust when you heard the judge reference Seb’s mom. But the gavel had fallen and now there was an due date on the plan.

***

You considered yourself lucky that you had avoided any more stumbles between your car and the door of the pub. You swirled the whiskey in your glass and took a sip, savoring the flavors that washed over your tongue. You didn’t usually come here, but as you started to drive home, you found your mind running around and around the afternoon’s events and you couldn’t make them stop.

Unknown to you, Fennec was sitting in the same pub, watching you. She took a sip of the beer she had been nursing for the last thirty minutes since you walked in.

“I’m just glad she’s got her boots on,” she mumbled to Boba.

“Would you just go talk to her? You haven’t stopped staring or shut up about her since she walked in.” He was nothing if not an effective wingman.

“I don’t know, will she think I’m following her? She’s some new in town lawyer type that probably doesn’t go for that.”

“Shand, if you don’t go make a move, I’m going to go point you out to her myself.” Boba had done it before.

“Fine, fine.” She scooched out of the booth, leather jacket squeaking against the vinyl as she got up. She tugged at the sleeves as she sidled up to the opposite end from where you were.

“Another one, Fennec?”

“No, I want to buy her next round.” She nodded in your direction, wondering what it would be.

“Sure thing.” The bartender side stepped away out of Fennec’s line of sight and filled a glass with ice and club soda. He finished it with a slice of lime before setting it down in front of you.

“What’s this?” You looked up with your brow wrinkled.

“Lady with the braid over there wanted to buy your next round but I remembered what you told me last time someone wanted to do that.”

“Oh, thanks.” You looked in her direction, meeting her gaze. You gave a small wave to thank her and she disappeared into the growing crowd. You went back to your drink and finished the whiskey off. You felt a familiar hand on your midback as she sat on the stool next to yours.

“Good to see you’ve got appropriate footwear on.” There was her smirk again.

“Well, they just go so much better with a suit and slush,” you quipped at her. “I don’t make it a habit of falling into the arms of strangers, you know.”

“Oh, I’m sure, I’m just glad they were mine.” Your eyes widened ever so slightly. “And I’m also glad you accepted…whatever the hell that is. I’m Fennec by the way.”

“Inside joke with the bartender.” You winked at her before giving her your name.

“How have you been in town long enough to have inside jokes with Karga?”

“I’ve lived here two and a half years, that’s plenty of time, don’t you think?” It was her turn to wrinkle her brow. “What, didn’t think I knew what winter was or something?”

“I—I don’t know. I thought—two and a half years and you didn’t know the steps ice over?”

“First time going in the winter, usually I give my depositions in a conference room in the office building around the corner from the courthouse.”

“Dep—you’re not a lawyer?” You pressed your lips together as you suppressed a laugh. “From how you walked away from me I thought you were about to put away a murderer or something.”

“No, I’m a pediatrician. I work with CPS and do advocacy work for my kiddos in bad situations. This was the first time a judge actually wanted me to read my note into the record at a hearing, something about they wanted to make a decision today and didn’t want to wait on me.”

“Wait, you were there for Seb?” She set her hand on your forearm. “How did I not know? BACA is supposed to know all the people coming in for a case.”

“Not sure.” You took a sip of the club soda. “I didn’t even know I was going to be there until three days ago when I got a call.”

“Huh. Well, I have to say I’m glad you were there, even though the circumstances weren’t ideal.” Her thigh bumped yours and her hand came up to brush your hair out of your face. “And while I don’t think you should wear those shoes outside again, I’m happy I was there to catch you.”

“Me too.” You let out a small huff of laughter. “BACA head, yeah?”

“Yeah, just appointed a few months ago after the last guy retired.”

“I like women in powerful roles.” You held her gaze and you let your knee bump hers this time.

“Bye, Shand. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fennec could hear Boba laughing as he strode out of the pub after clapping her on the shoulder. Wingman indeed, you were looking at your drink again.

“Hey, don’t mind him. He can be a dick sometimes, but he means well.” She rested a hand on your shoulder as you turned to face her fully. You tilted your head and you held eye contact for a moment.

“It’s okay, we’ve all got those friends, mine just happen to be working tonight.” You chanced a glance at your watch. “Which, I actually need to leave soon. I have to be at the hospital early in the morning to round or the residents will have my head. I would go tonight, but the whiskey and the afternoon in court make that a no go.”

Fennec rested a hand on your knee while she reached for a napkin and the pen you had signed the bill with. She scribbled something and folded it before tucking it into the pocket on your suit jacket.

“Text me when you get home.” She slid off the stool and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “See you around, Doc.”

#fennec shand #Fennec Shand x reader #the mandalorian fan fiction #wlw fanfic #sw fanfic #Star Wars fan fiction #biker AU #biker!Fennec

[autumnsart22]

Oikawa x reader ch. 7

Longer chapter today, sorry! I just couldn’t stop writing this scene 😫

“Y/n, come on!” Kindaichi jabbed me in the side. 

“Ow!” I said, punching him. “I don’t want to go!”

“But it’s tradition,” Hanamaki said, coming up on my other side. 

I groaned. The idea of going to a mall arcade with 12 teenage boys and me as the only female might have been appealing to some girls, but not to me. When Kindaichi had asked if I was going yesterday after the practice game, I had almost immediately said no. But apparently, it was Seijoh’s tradition to go out and celebrate after every practice game we won. 

“Come on Iwa, tell her!” 

I glanced up to see Oikawa and Iwaizumi approaching, Oikawa’s knee was in a brace, but he wasn’t limping as badly as yesterday. The doctors had apparently given him a good amount of pain medication, but I hoped he wasn’t pushing himself too hard. I knew that despite my words yesterday, he still was disappointed in himself for not finishing up the game, but that wasn’t an excuse to keep hurting himself. 

“Tell her what?” Oikawa stopped in front of us, a hand on his hip. 

Yahaba smacked me across the head lightly as he spoke. “We’re trying to get her to come to the arcade with us.”

I rubbed my head, glaring. “And I told you, I have no interest in spending the afternoon with losers like the Aoba Johsai volleyball club.” I grinned wickedly, and Oikawa placed an offended hand on his chest. 

“Who else would you spend the afternoon with? Karasuno?”

I rolled my eyes, but I was suddenly getting accusatory glares from all the boys. 

In truth, I actually had been planning on hanging out with Karasuno, but there was no way I was admitting that. “How long are we going to be out?” I asked in a resigned tone. 

“A few hours, usually.” Iwaizumi said with a pitying look. “We usually go at 12--” 

“You can ride with me!” Oikawa interrupted, throwing an arm around me. I shrugged him off and raised my eyebrows. 

“Iwa literally lives down the block from me, so I can just ride with him. You’d just be going out of your way.” I glanced at Iwaizumi. “If that’s ok?” 

The ace nodded, his eyes shifting to Oikawa who looked a little put out. 

“You’re so mean, Y/n-chan! You never want to spend time with me!” Oikawa complained. 

I grinned and poked him in the shoulder. “Maybe it’s because you’re such a baby.” 

That night, I called Kiyoko. I felt like I hadn’t seen her in ages, even though it had only been a week. I told her that I would have to come to the Karasuno sleepover a bit later than I expected, but I would still make it. Hopefully two teams in one day wouldn’t be too much for my poor mental state to handle. 

I wanted to tell Kiyoko everything about Oikawa and the team, how I finally felt like I belonged at Aoba Johsai, but at the same time, I felt like a traitor. It was stupid and irrational, especially since she had been the one to tell me to become Seijoh’s manager, but we were no longer directly involved in each others day to lives. It made me upset, but I vowed that I would have her meet my new team as soon as possible. 

The next day, Iwaizumi pulled up in front of my house in his huge black pickup truck at exactly 12. My mom, reading through paperwork at her desk by the front window, stared at the intimidating vehicle in mild confusion or disgust, but I thought it was hilarious. 

I snatched my purse from the kitchen table, stuffing my phone in my pocket, and then I ran out the door to meet Iwa. As I jogged up the passenger seat, I blinked in surprise to see Oikawa already seated there. 

As I crawled into the backseat, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I slept over at Iwa-chan’s house. Is that a crime?” 

“Nope. You just stole my seat.” 

He reclined his seat all the way back until it was resting on my lap, and I could barely move. “Oikawa!” 

He grinned up at me, poking my cheek. “You’re so cute, Y/n-chan!”

I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue. “Will you get up?”

“Honestly, I’m pretty comfortable here.” 

“Ughhhh.”

Iwaizumi gave me an “I’m so sorry” look, and punched Oikawa. “Get your ass off her, Shittykawa.” 

The two argued the whole way to the arcade, which was around a fifteen minute drive, and Iwaizumi almost hit Kunimi pulling into the parking lot because he was too busy trashing Oikawa. 

The rest of the team was already waiting by the entrance of the mall by the time we all walked up, and they greeted me with just as much excitement as the two boys. I got swept into a tide of Watari, Matsuwaka, and Kindaichi, who literally dragged me through the glass doors of the mall and towards the arcade. I could hear pounding music and flashing lights coming from within, and I sighed, resigning myself to a long day. 

The arcade was huge, way bigger than I expected. Every arcade game I could have imagined was there, ranging from the Jurassic park shooting games, to classic pac man, to car racing, each one flashing dizzyingly in the darkness. 

“Usually we play to see who can get the most tickets,” Kindaichi practically yelled over the music. I nodded to signal that I understood, and followed them through a maze of games to the race car driving. There were exactly four seats, and it didn’t take long for us to get into a violent competition of racing. 

I ended up winning three out of the four games we played, boasting a huge handful of tickets by the end. The three boys were shocked, but I had Tanaka and Nishinoya to blame. Over the course of two years, I had probably played the game at least a thousand times with them, giving me quite the edge. 

My eyes were burning from staring at the screen for so long, so I quickly excused myself to go to the bathroom. Almost instantly, I was lost in the maze of games and darkness, completely turned around by the dozens of blinking screens. 

“Are you lost?” An unfamiliar voice asked from behind me, and I turned. A tall guy with dyed blonde hair and dark undercut and earrings looked down at me, smirking. He wore a white t-shirt and black sweats. 

“Oh, uh...yeah I am actually. Do you know where there’s a bathroom--”

“What’s your name? You’re pretty cute.”

As the guy spoke, I noticed he had a tongue piercing. 

“Um-” 

“There you are Y/n.”  I felt relief pierce me like a knife as I turned to see Oikawa and Iwaizumi prowling towards me, both of their eyes spelling out literal death for the guy still standing behind me, a little too close. 

“Is this guy bothering you?” Iwaizumi looked down at me, face blank.

Oikawa wasn’t as subtle. His arm slid around my waist, tugging me into the protective shelter of his side. He had a truly terrifying smile on his face as he glared at the blonde guy, daring him to say something. 

“It’s ok. He was just leaving.” I tried to say, but Oikawa was suddenly leaning forward, a look of delight crossing his face. 

“Wait a minute...You’re Terushima Yūji, captain of Johzenji high volleyball club, aren’t you?

I blinked, looking back at the guy. Captain of Johzenji volleyball club? Karasuno had played Johzenji a few times in the past, and as I stared at the guy in front of me, I felt a vague sense of recognition. 

Terushima smirked, not looking very intimidated by Oikawa or Iwaizumi. “Wow, I guess I must be popular. And wait, let me guess...hurt knee, annoying attitude--you must be Oikawa Toru from Aoba Johsai.”

Before Oikawa could respond, Terushima’s gaze was moving back to me. “But the better question is, who is she? She’s very…” His eyes trailed slowly down my body, and he smirked wider. 

I felt Oikawa tense up so hard, I was sure he was trying to hold himself back. I turned to look at him, my hand wrapping around his shirt. “Oikawa,” I whispered, tugging. “It’s fine, seriously.” 

Iwaizumi was who I didn’t count on. The wing spiker shoved Terushima so hard, the other boy almost fell on his ass. “Get the fuck out of here, you disgusting piece of shit. If you ever talk to her like that again, I will personally beat the fuck out of you.” 

I had never heard Iwa so angry. Terushima glared, but he seemed to realize that Iwa and Oikawa were ready to fight, and he was outnumbered. Instead, he grinned and flipped Iwaizumi off. 

“I look forward to seeing you all at the next game.” He winked at me before turning and sauntering away. 

It took almost a full five minutes for Oikawa to relax and let go of me. I tried to tell both him and Iwa that I was totally fine, that Terushima hadn’t even done anything that bad, but they continued to look murderous. I was almost afraid that they would go after the captain of Johzenji the second I let them out of my sight, so instead I tried to distract them. 

“Oikawa, hey! It’s fine! We’re at an arcade, so can we please play some games?”

They finally agreed, and we all set up in front of one of the zombie shooting games. I usually wasn’t particularly good at them, and this time was no exception. Iwaizumi ended up getting the most points, Oikawa close behind him, but I barely even killed two zombies. My failure seemed to cheer up Oikawa, who went back to his typical annoying self, poking fun at me as usual. 

“You’re terrible at this, Y/n-chan!” He mocked, putting down his gun. Iwaizumi put in a few coins to start up another round, and Oikawa moved behind me, arms wrapping around my shoulders, my back suddenly flat against his chest. His hands were almost twice the size of my own as they guided me to the proper position to hold the plastic gun. 

“Wha--” I stuttered, brain short circuiting at the setter’s sudden proximity. 

“You hold it here, and move around like this,” he said in my ear, breath washing across my neck. I felt like my face was on fire, and I was sure that if anyone saw me, they’d think I was a tomato who had come to life and started speaking. 

A zombie jumped out, and Oikawa’s arms tensed around me as he fired the fake gun at the screen. I could barely focus, far too aware of his chin hovering just over my shoulder, his arms around my torso, and his hands tight on mine. I felt like I could melt right there. 

The game was one of the longest five minutes of my life, but also ended far too soon.  Before I knew it, Iwazumi was slamming down his gun in defeat and turning to Oikawa. I felt the heat of Seijoh’s captain pull away as he dropped his arms and stepped back, and I let out  a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding. 

I turned around, heart still racing, but Oikawa was already moving towards another game. It didn’t mean anything. I had to remember that. 

I stood in front of the claw machine, arms crossed and pouting. I had already wasted half my coins on the stupid thing, trying to get a sweet blue whale stuffed animal that rested in the corner of the box, but it looked like it was impossible. 

“You still didn’t get it?” Iwa asked from the air hockey table, where he played viciously against Kunimi.

I glared at him. “No need to sound so condescending!”

“Move, I’ll get it for you.” Oikawa came up and shoved me out of the way, and I made a noise of indignation. 

“You don’t have to--”

But he was already shoving coins into the slot, smirking at me. “Watch the master, new girl.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. But as I watched Oikawa manipulate the level, I practically leapt out of my skin from excitement. Hands against the glass, I simultaneously watched the claw as it moved across the box, positioning over the whale, and also Oikawa’s concentrated face. I had only ever seen him get this serious during a volleyball game. 

The claw descended, wrapping around the whale with a precarious grip on its tail. My eyes were wide as it got closer, closer, and--

The whale dropped into the box, and Oikawa handed it to me, a proud and smug smile on his face. I let out a cry of delight, abandoning any pretense as I flung my arms around his neck. I couldn’t see his face, but he hugged me back tightly. 

“Thank you so much Oikawa, I love it,” I said, pulling away. 

He grinned.. “I have one condition: you have to name him after me.”

“What?! How do you know it’s a boy?”

He crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows. 

“Fine, Tooru the whale it is.” I hugged the stuffy tightly, not noticing Oikawa’s cheeks get red in the darkness of the arcade. 

“Wait one sec.” The setter whipped out his phone and held it up, and I had just enough time to hold up my stuffed animal and smile widely before the camera flashed and the picture was taken. 

“You’re so cute, Chibi-chan!” Oikawa said, holding out the phone. In the photo, I smiled widely and happily, Oikawa’s head resting against mine as he held up a peace sign. Of course, Oikawa looked far better than me, but there was no use complaining about that. 

“Wanna play the dance battle game?” I asked, noticing it as we walked back towards where the rest of the team was. 

Seijoh’s setter looked down at me. “Are you ready to be destroyed?” 

“Ha! As if.”

“I guess we’ll have to see then.” 

I laughed, setting down Tooru the whale and my purse off to the side. “What song do you want?”

I didn’t know many of the options, so Oikawa picked Five More Hours by Deorro and Chris Brown, an American dance song. 

The arrows began to flash on the screen, and Oikawa and I both furiously began to jump on the arrows, probably looking ridiculous. The song was fast paced and I was completely out of breath from laughing. By the end, I abandoned all attempts of getting the right arrows, and just danced around to the beat of the music, watching Oikawa crush the game. How was he so good looking while dancing to such a ridiculous song? 

“Wow Oikawa, I think you should look into becoming a professional dancer!” Hanamaki yelled, standing a few feet away with his phone out, filming us, the rest of the team behind him. I almost immediately became embarrassed, but Oikawa clearly revelled in the attention. 

He flipped off Hanamaki before turning to me with a wide smile. Before I could stop him, he grabbed me around the waist, holding one of my hands up so we were dancing together, abandoning the game completely. 

I laughed in delight as the beat dropped and we both started jumping around crazily like idiots. Oikawa still held my hands, but my overwhelming happiness pushed the embarrassment aside. 

When the song finally ended, I collapsed in a fit of giggles. Oikawa was laughing and panting, leaning against the railing for support, while the rest of the team clapped and whooped. I stepped off the raised floor of the game, stumbling over to the rest of the team where they slapped me on the back. I cringed; their slaps were unbelievably hard from volleyball. 

“Hanamaki, send me that video,” Oikawa said, joining us over by the basketball game. 

“I’m hungryyyy,” Kunimi complained. 

Iwaizumi crossed his arms. “Me too. Want to go to the food court?” 

“I’ll join guys,” Watari said, and Kindaichi, Kunimi, and Kyōtani nodded, all of them agreeing that they were ready for food. Yuda, Sawauchi, and Shido all wanted to play another round of motorcycle racing, so I was left alone again with Oikawa. 

Neither of us were hungry, so instead we headed to the photobooth which sat by the door of the arcade. I didn’t really like getting my picture taken, since I always seemed to look awkward and terrible, but Oikawa insisted. 

“As our new manager, you need a picture with your captain, obviously.” 

I gave him a look. “Do you just have a wall of photo booth pictures with all the managers of Aoba Johsai over the years?”

Oikawa smirked, tapping me on the nose. “Nope, you’re the first one.”

“I’m honored.” 

The booth was very small, and Oikawa’s legs were scrunched up as we squeezed next to each other on the bench. I tried to ignore the fact that we were completely wedged next to each other, with me practically in his lap. 

He clicked the screen, and a countdown started, and I stuck out my tongue. The second picture we both smiled widely, and the third we made weird faces at the camera. 

In the fourth and final picture, I turned to Oikawa and kissed him on the cheek. 

It was completely random, a spontaneous burst of courage, and before I could really think about it, the camera had clicked and the picture was taken. 

We climbed out of the booth, my face hot. Oikawa scooped up the two printed sheets of photos, handing one to me. He looked completely delighted as he stared down at them, which only made me blush more. Just friends. 

“What time is it?” I murmured aloud, realizing I hadn’t checked my phone in a while. Tugging it from my bag, I choked. It was already 4:15, and Kiyoko, Daichi, and Tanaka had called me a total of 11 times. 

I quickly clicked Kiyoko’s name, turning from Oikawa without an explanation. “Hey Kiyoko! I’m so sorry, I lost track of time. I’m about to leave the arcade and get an Uber, so I’ll probably be there in like twenty minutes.”

“It’s totally fine, we were just worried about if you had died or something.” Kiyoko said, a smile in her voice. 

I heard Tanaka in the background of the call. “Is that Y/n? Tell her to get the fuck over here!” 

“Ok, I’ll see you soon!” I said, and clicked end on the call. 

“You have to leave?” Oikawa asked. Was I imagining that he looked a little put out? 

“Yeah, I’m going to run and catch an Uber,” I said, pulling the app up on my phone. 

“I’ll walk you out.”

“It’s fine--”

He flicked me on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

The sun was starting to set and a purple sheen passing over the sky, but the mall was still busy, late night shoppers just beginning their trips. I carried my stuffed animal in one arm, my purse in the other, the photobooth picture stuffed into one of the pockets for safe keeping. 

We stopped at the curb, and I turned to Oikawa. “Thank you for today. I actually had a lot of fun.”

“Aw, Y/n-chan, no need to thank me. We should do it again sometime.” 

“After we win the next practice game?”

“Well--”

At that moment, the Uber pulled up next to us, and I stepped off the curb towards it. 

“Talk more later ok? I’ll see you Tuesday, Oikawa!” I smiled brightly and waved before stepping into the car. 

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

#oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa torū #fandom #fanfic #x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu oikawa #haikyū!!

[lucy-268]

Revelations

A/N - This is ‘the talk’ and it takes place a week after Regrets. You can find that on my masterlist. Also, this meets the requirement for the @choicesweeklychallenge​. You belong to me can be found in bold.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to PB

Warnings: none? I don’t think even language.  

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 4,466

*****Thursday*****

“Has Denver General sent us any more information, or will I just find out when I get there?” June asked.

Consulting his notes, Ethan answered her. “Dr. Morgan said that he would send us the remaining test results as soon as he gets them. He’ll be sending them to all of us, so if you want to discuss the case with any of us we’ll all have the same information.”

June never looked up from the report she was reviewing. “I doubt it will be necessary.”

“Regardless of whether you think it’s a necessity, you will keep me informed of the case.” Ethan reminded her.

“Of course, Ethan.” June said. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to get ready for my flight?”

“You don’t want to hear about my new patient?” Baz asked her.

June glanced at him. “My flight leaves in less than three hours, so no. At least not right now.” She gathered her files and left saying goodbye to the rest of the team.

“Baz, what is going on with your new patient?” Charley asked.

“Late-onset Chediak-Higashi Syndrome. For me as an immunologist, I find it extremely interesting, especially as the patient is thirty-two and just diagnosed.”

Charley looked between Baz and Ethan. “Is this a team patient?”

“No. This is a patient of Baz’s. We will have a new patient coming in on Monday for which you will be primary.” Ethan held up a folder.

Baz briefed them on his patient, excusing himself when he received a page saying the patient was being admitted.

“And then there were two,” Ethan handed her the folder.

She flipped it open and read through the file. “Twenty-five year old male. Diabetic. Joint pain and muscle weakness.” Charley looked at him. “Do you know what it is and you want me to figure it out?”

Ethan shook his head. “I have a couple of ideas but I don’t know for sure what it is. You should have several ideas right now.”

“The symptoms can be just about anything. You said he gets here on Monday ?”

He nodded. “He’s already been to Mass Kenmore several times. Even though we have sent a release signed by the patient, Terrance hasn’t sent the files to us. So we may start with spinning our wheels testing for things that they have already tested for and eliminated.”

Charley studied the file again. “Did you see the iron levels here? I think the first thing is a liver biopsy?”

“Are you telling me that’s what you are going to do, or asking me if I think that’s the right choice?” Ethan asked her.

Her head snapped up. “That’s what I’m going to order. I’ll even have the order written so the test is run as soon as he’s admitted.” Charley met his eyes. “What?”

Ethan smiled. “There aren’t a lot of doctors who could have figured out to start with that test after reviewing a file for less than fifteen minutes. Let alone a second year resident. So I am impressed.” He reached over and stroked the back of her hand. “You often impress me.”

She turned her hand and laced their fingers. “It’s Thursday.”

“So it is.”

“Last week you texted me and said we would talk on Saturday.”

“Yes. And we decided we’d have dinner at six.”

Charley met his eyes. “You aren’t going to change your mind?”

“We’re meeting at my apartment. I’ll be there. We are long overdue for the talk. And I’m sorry for that.”

Charley smiles. “Will I finally get my chicken?”

“You will not. We’ve made the chicken together,” he held up his hand when she was going to interrupt, “this time, we’ll make something else. You plan the meal.”

“We may have made the chicken together but I never got to try it.”

“I want to see what you come up with. You can create any menu you want. Email me what we need and I’ll go shopping.” Ethan smiled at her.

Charley considered for a minute. “Anything?” When Ethan nodded, she continued, “My grandma had an amazing pot roast recipe. We could roast it in the oven or use a crockpot. It’s always best if it cooks on low in the crockpot, so that would take about seven or so hours. I’ll email you the list, and I guess I’ll be there late morning. I guess we’ll also have lunch together, too. That’s alright, isn’t it Ethan?” She didn’t even wait for his answer before she left the office.

Charley watched the office door to see if he was going to come after her and inform her they would not be spending the entire day together.

Ethan sat at his desk, he smiled as he realized that life would never be boring around Charley Valentine.

*****Saturday*****

Sienna pushed open Charley’s bedroom door. “Are yo-” Sienna stopped mid-sentence. She heard several loud thuds and  wanted to ask if Charley was okay, but she did not expect the scene she witnessed. She also didn’t see her roommate. “Charley!”

“I’m here,” Charley called, pushing herself out from under the bed. “I was looking for this shoe. That I can’t wear now. Thank you, Lucy!” The shoe had become a chew toy for their pet.

Lucy, their fennec fox, sat in the middle of Charley’s bed, looking proud of herself.

“Forget the shoe, we understand what happened to it.” Sienna looked around the room. “Was there a bomb? Are you telekinetic? Did your closet and dresser decide to vomit every article of clothing you own into your room?”

“I’m looking for something to wear, and I don’t have anything! I got off at five yesterday, I should have gone shopping!”

Sienna remembered the day a couple weeks ago when Charley got home late clad in someone else’s clothes. Based on her own conversation with a certain someone, Sienna had a pretty good idea who. Now she was frantically trying to find something special to wear. “What’s his name?”

Charley froze. “What’s whose name?”

“Obviously, the guy that you’re spending your day with. The same one you were with when you came home wearing clothes that were way too big for you. So, who is it?”

“No one,” Charley stated. “I’m not spending the day with anyone.”

“Yet you canceled on Bryce and me for today.” Sienna picked up a Columbia t-shirt and a pair of jeans with a rip in the knees. “Here, put these on.” She smiled. “I mean, if you aren’t doing anything special today, it doesn’t matter what you have on.”

Charley looked at the clothes that Sienna tossed on her bed. She had to leave for Ethan’s before Sienna would be leaving to meet Bryce, and she still didn’t know what she was going to wear.

Sienna watched her. “I heard that Dr. Ramsey also has today off. And he did when you had your second day off two weeks ago.”

Charley froze and looked to the door. “Everyone else is working today and they’re gone?”

Sienna nodded and sat down on Charley’s bed. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“So it wasn’t just the one night when he spent the night here?”

“That day we went to the country club and later I went to his apartment to talk to him? That was the first time, and the night after my hearing was the second. It was also the last time.” Charley sighed. “Then he went to the Amazon so we could ‘reset’ since he would be my director supervisor.” Charley sighed. “Since he’s been back he says we need to stay away from each other, but then he’ll kiss me. Today we’re going to ‘talk.’ We’ve been supposed to talk since right after the softball game, but it kept getting delayed.”

Sienna smirked at her. “You had on his clothes the day you came home.”

Charley's face turned red. “We spent the day together with his dad in Providence. We took his dog for a walk and I fell into a mud puddle.”

“You’ve met his family!”

“His dad. He hadn’t told Alan that he was bringing me with him. Ethan had never taken anyone home with him before, not even Harper Emery.”

“Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Emery were a thing!” Sienna’s mouth dropped open.

“I don’t know if it’s really common knowledge. Aurora probably knows. I saw the two of them talking once and it seemed intimate. It was the day before they announced the opening on the diagnostics team. I did ask him about it later and he said he likes to keep his private life private, but he did say they had an on-again, off-again thing but it ended permanently when she became chief.” Charley rested her head on her hand. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t tell anyone.”

Sienna mimed sealing her lips. “I thought that you and Bryce were kind of together.”

“We hooked up a couple of times but we both agreed to be casual.”

“And with Ramsey, you don’t want casual?”

“I don’t.” Charley chewed on her lip. “Sienna, I’m terrified about today. I know that everything is going to change.”

“Well then, let’s get you ready.” Sienna picked up the t-shirt and jeans. “This probably won’t do; we’ll find something else.”

Charley was just getting ready to leave when her phone rang. She looked at the caller id and sighed. “If you’re calling to cancel-” she started.

“I’m not,” she heard his rich baritone as well as a smile in his voice. “I had to go to the hospital to pick up something. If you haven’t left yet you can ride with me. I’m outside your building.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Charley disconnected, smiling.

Soon they were in his apartment. She kicked off her shoes at the door and stood there when he walked further into the apartment. He got half way through the living room when he realized she wasn’t with him. He turned to find her at the door. “If we want to make this pot roast we need to go to the kitchen.”

Charley gave a nervous laugh and stepped away from the door. She tossed her purse on the couch as they walked into the kitchen. They washed their hands and Ethan pulled his crockpot out of the pantry while Charley pulled the roast out of the refrigerator. She saw the printout from her email with the image of her grandma’s recipe. Ethan gathered the rest of the ingredients while Charley brewed a pot of coffee.

“Why the crockpot instead of a roasting pan in the oven? I saw the recipe had directions for both with cooking times for either low or high in the slow cooker.”

“It tastes better and is more tender.”

Ethan smirked. “It does not. And we need to use the Dutch oven even if it’s just to brown the roast.”

“Maybe it doesn’t do a lot for the taste, but it is more tender.” Charley watched as the coffee finished brewing, standing  with her back to him. “It takes longer to cook in the slow cooker on low and I wanted to spend more time with you.” She gave a short laugh. “Funnily enough, now that I’m here, I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

She turned to face him. “I think that today may change everything, and I’m hopeful but I’m also scared. I’ve been wanting to sit down with you away from the hospital with just the two of us for so long, but now that we’re actually going to do that...” She bit her lip.

“Now you understand why I’ve been putting it off. But I’ve done a lot of thinking. And I talked to Naveen. We are long overdue. Today will change everything but we will be in agreement with it, I think.”

Charley nodded. Ethan turned back to the counter.  “Let’s get this set for dinner, fix lunch, and talk.”

Charley browned the roast in the Dutch oven while Ethan chopped the vegetables and herbs. Once the roast was in the crockpot, Charley cooked the onion. Once they started to soften, they added the rest of the ingredients, including the coffee. “Why coffee?” Ethan asked.

Charley smiled, watching the mixture simmer. “Is this a quiz, same as ‘why neat’ that first night at Donahue’s?”

“Genuine curiosity. As much as I love coffee, I’ve never had pot roast cooked in coffee. I found the recipe interesting.”

“It helps to tenderize the meat and gives the gravy a richer flavor.”

Once the gravy and onion mixture was cooked, Ethan poured it over the meat and set the timer. While Charley washed the accumulated dishes, Ethan fixed salads for lunch. They took their plates to the living room and sat side-by-side on his sofa.

“You talked to Naveen about us.” When he nodded, she continued, “I talked to Sienna.”

They fell into a silence while they ate. Charley glanced at him every so often.

He pushed the last piece of lettuce around on his plate before finally setting the plate on the coffee table. He turned to her; she mimicked his moves and faced him.

“Ethan, I’ve said for a while that a relationship with you is an easy decision for me. It’s what I want. I think that we could be good together, amazing even.”

Ethan nodded. “I know. You aren’t the problem, I am. I want to be able to push you to be the best doctor you can be.”

“You can do that professionally, regardless of any personal relationship we have. I can take criticism from Dr. Ramsey and know that it isn’t coming from Ethan.”

“You’re assuming that I can also have that division.”

That got Charley’s attention. “You’re Ethan Freakin’ Ramsey. You can do anything you try to. If you want to make the distinction you will. And if you cross the line, I’ll let you know.”

“Another problem-”

Charley put her hand on his arm. “If you just want to list a lot of potential possible problems, why are we even having a discussion? Earlier you said that today would change everything and you thought we’d be in agreement.” She folded her arms across her chest and focused on a picture hanging on the wall. “If you thought that I’d change my mind about us, you’re wrong. If you thought you could list all the reasons why we can’t be together and why you won’t be with me, I was right to be nervous about this. If that’s-”

Ethan reached over and grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. “What I want to do is identify the obstacles or potential obstacles we face so we are both aware of them, and to decide how we need to handle them in the future.” He wiped a tear out of her eye. “Because in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I very much do want to be with you.”

Charley grabbed his hand and kissed his palm before lacing their fingers together. She smiled at him. “I’m sorry for my outburst. Continue, please.”

“Another problem is the board. They don’t like interoffice romances. Naveen seems to think this won’t be an issue. He seems to think that as long as it isn’t impacting the care of the patients, or the bottom line of the hospital, they wouldn’t care, nor would they even need to be aware. I disagree with him on this. I think the board makes it their business to know what goes on in the hospital.”

Charley interrupted again. “I know that there are married couples at the hospital. Was it a problem when you and Harper were together?” Ethan drew in a deep breath when she asked that. “If you don’t want to answer that you don’t have to.”

“I will. It was not a problem and the board did not have an issue with it when she was head of neurosurgery and I was a fellow on the diagnostics team. If our relationship would have continued when she was chief or if I had been a surgeon, it would have been a problem. Any other couples at Edenbrook do not work in the same area, and one member of the couple is not another’s supervisor.”

Ethan continued, “I don’t want anyone to think that you got the position on my team because of our relationship. I don’t want anyone to have any doubt about that. You earned it.”

Charley nodded. “I did earn it. You weren’t even the one who put me on the team. Naveen did.”

Ethan agreed that while that was true, many people at the hospital could have thought that he asked Naveen to do that.

“If anyone has doubts, I graduated at the top of my class at Columbia. Not near, I was ranked first. In fact if anyone had ranked all med school graduates my year from around the country, I’d probably be in the top fifty.”

Ethan laughed. “Someone did. And you are higher than that. You are somewhere in the top twenty. I’m not going to narrow it down more than that for you.”

“Based on that, I think I earned the right to be on the team. Not to mention helping to cure Naveen last year. Our relationship had nothing to do with it. Well except for the fact you inspired me to go to med school in the first place. And I wanted to work with you, which is why I came to Edenbrook.”

“We probably don’t want to advertise our personal relationship at work. The hospital has a wonderful gossip network and we’ll need to be careful. That being said it probably won’t be long before everyone knows about us.”

“That sounds okay. But some people will know. I told Sienna and you told Naveen. My roommates will know I’m seeing someone, and will make it their mission to find out who.” Charley wasn’t sure if she should mention the next part, but figured she might as well. “June does, or she thinks she does. At least that was what she implied the day I caught her with my personnelle file.”

Ethan froze. “She had your file?”

Charley nodded. “She said that she reads the files for everyone she works with. She tried to tell me you asked her to get it for you, but I knew you wouldn’t have.”

“I’ll deal with her when she gets back from Denver. Your roommates and Naveen are fine.”

“If my roommates know Bryce will also know; and if Aurora does, Harper might.” Charley looked up at him. “Can we talk about Harper?”

“I thought we already had.”

“You ended things when she became chief. If she wouldn’t have, would you still be together, do you think?”

“We would not. We were together because it was mutually beneficial to the both of us. But we were never going to last.”

She smirked at him. “By ‘mutually beneficial’ do you mean it was convenient and the sex was good?”

“Yes.” Ethan said. “But then last year something happened that I knew would never lead Harper and I together again.” When Charley tipped her head to show she was interested in his answer, he continued. “Last year, an intern showed up and turned my life inside out. And I can’t get her out of my head.”

Charley started to move towards him, and he stopped her. “What about the scalpel jockey?”

Charley lips twitched. “His name is Bryce.”

“I’m aware, and you didn’t answer the question.”

“We hooked up twice, once at our housewarming party and again once after we were at Donahue’s. We almost did the night we researched treating Mrs. Martinez, but you’d already kissed me in Miami. I wasn’t interested in anyone else at that point.” She looked at the ground before meeting his eyes. “Bryce is a friend and a good one. I trust him. I also know if I ever did want a relationship with him, I’d have that choice. I don’t, and Bryce respects that.”

“As long as he knows that you belong to me.” Ethan pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her.

“And you belong to me!” Charley shifted slightly on his lap and felt his hardness under her thigh. “We could continue this in the bedroom.”

“A very good idea.” As Ethan stood and lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.

Several hours later, they were laying with their legs tangled together, voices soft in the quiet room when an alarm on her phone beeped.

“Somewhere you need to be?” He kissed the top of her head.

She pushed herself up. “Actually, yes. The kitchen. I need to start the vegetables.”

He walked over to his closet and pulled out a robe that on him would reach mid-thigh. He tossed it to her, before grabbing another for himself. This one hit him at mid-calf. “You could have this one if you wanted.” She indicated the robe she hadn’t yet tied. It fell below her knees.

He snorted. “Be responsible for you tripping in this one? I don’t think so.”

As Charley gathered what she needed for the roasted cauliflower, Ethan grabbed the green beans. Charley explained that sometime they would fix potatoes with the roast, but her grandfather grew up near Idaho and often decided he wanted anything other than potatoes, so they would have cauliflower. “I don’t like raw or steamed, but I really like them roasted with this mustard sauce.”

Charley watched Ethan pull a cake plate out of the refrigerator. “Dessert?” At Ethan's acknowledgment she asked what it was. He wouldn’t tell her, saying he wanted it to be a surprise.

They worked efficiently together in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. Ethan selected a red wine for them and opened it to let it breathe. He carried their plates to the dining room table.

“This is good; the coffee does make the gravy richer.”

“Grandma knows best. My grandfather grew up in Spokane and grandma in Seattle. They had a restaurant in Seattle that my dad and all my aunts and uncles worked in while they were growing up.”

“You have a big family?”

“My dad had three brothers and two sisters. But even though they had six kids, my grandparents only had four grandchildren. There was my brother and me; we grew up in Pennsylvania. My one uncle had two boys and they were in Oregon. All of my dad’s family is in the northwest and we didn’t see them often. My dad moved there after he retired and I started med school.”

Ethan watched her. “Are we going to talk about your mom’s family?”

Charley shrugged. “Not much to tell. Her parents were killed in a car accident when she was in college. She was an only child and you know why I don’t talk to her.”

As they cleared the table and kitchen he asked her what he had been wondering about. “Why did you decide to do your residency in Boston with most of your family now out west?”

“It doesn’t feel like home to me there. I figured I could do my residency anywhere; it wasn’t a commitment to stay somewhere for my life. It’s only three years.” She smiled at him. “Besides coming here let me learn from the best.”

Ethan poured coffee and set the mugs on a tray with two dessert plates. Charley watched as he lifted the cover off the cake.

“Lemon! How did you know lemon was my favorite?” Charley couldn’t resist. She swiped her finger on the edge of the cake to collect a sample of icing. She popped it in her mouth.

“I asked Sienna the other day and she told me.”

Charley stared at him. “She helped me get dressed this morning and she didn’t say anything!”

Ethan laughed. “You need help getting dressed in the mornings?”

She felt her face redden. “I… well… um. I didn’t know what to wear this morning.”

“I would have gone with clothes, but I understand that some people are fussier than others.”

“I wanted to look nice.”

“You always look nice.”

“I thought that I always looked satisfactory.”

Ethan cut two pieces of cake and added them to the tray with the coffees.

“I thought we could take these into the bedroom. If that would be satisfactory to you?”

She nodded and he carried the tray to the bedroom and set it down on the bed. He flipped a switch causing the gas fireplace to spring to life. Charley picked up her cake and snuggled back against Ethan. “I like the fireplace here.”

“I don’t often use it.”

“Why tonight?”

“Must be the company I’m keeping.”

Charley turned and straddled his lap. “You better be careful. This company could end up corrupting you.”

“I look forward to it, if that’s the case.” Ethan rolled her unto her back.

Several hours later, Charley looked at the clock. “I should go home. I have to work tomorrow and my boss can be tough if I’m late.”

“If you stay with me, I’ll be sure you’re not late,” Ethan buried his head in her neck.

“I don’t have clean clothes for tomorrow.”

“You can either grab some scrubs from the locker room or ask your roommate to bring something for you.” Ethan pointed to his dresser. “I cleared both of the bottom drawers for you, if you want them.”

Charley chewed on her bottom lip. “You knew what the outcome of our talk was going to be before we actually talked today. When did you decide you wanted-”

“The night of the softball game, when I kissed you.”

Charley stared at him. “Then why did you keep putting me off when I wanted to talk?”

“Because I kept coming up with all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. And I decided not to do that anymore. I’m tired of avoiding whatever it is we have.”

“Why do I get the two bottom drawers?”

“You’re shorter than me!” He indicates the drawer on the right. “You actually do have clean clothes in there. What you wore when we went to my dads. You at least have something to wear to the hospital.” Ethan watched her. “Any other concerns for tonight?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

Ethan shrugged. “Yes, but it’s one of the standard ones dentists hand out. It should be fine until we can get you one to keep here.”

Charley put her head on his pillow. “Then I can’t think of a single reason to get out of the warm bed right now.”

He turned off the light and slipped under the covers with her. “Neither can I.”

Tag list (if you want to be on or off let me know) @oofchoices @openheart12​  @jamespotterthefirst​  @ohchoices​  @catchinglikekeronsene  @aylamreads​  @nerdydinosaursweets​  @eramsey28​  @txemrn​  @starrystarrytrouble​  @queencarb​  @thegreentwin​  @lion-ess24​  @caseyvalentineramsey​  

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#dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #open heart fanfiction #open heart #choices open heart

[5oclockcoffees]

Fahrenheit 451

With school turning out more runners, jumpers, racers, tinkerers, grabbers, snatchers, fliers, and swimmers instead of examiners, critics, knowers, and imaginative creators, the word 'intellectual,' of course, became the swear word it deserved to be. You always dread the unfamiliar. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal. Each man the image of every other; then all are happy, for there are no mountains to make them cower, to judge themselves against. So! A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon. Breach man's mind. Who knows who might be the target of the well read man? Me? I won't stomach them for a minute. "When did it all start, you ask, this job of ours, how did it come about, where, when? Well, I'd say it really got started around about a thing called the Civil War. Even though our rule-book claims it was founded earlier. The fact is we didn't get along well until photography came into its own. Then motion pictures in the early twentieth century. Radio. Television. Things began to have mass. And because they had mass, they became simpler. Once, books appealed to a few people, here, there, everywhere. They could afford to be different. The world was roomy. But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadruple population. Films and radios, magazines, books leveled down to a sort of paste pudding norm, do you follow me? Picture it. Nineteenth-century man with his horses, dogs, carts, slow motion. Then, in the twentieth century, speed up your camera. Books cut shorter. Condensations, Digests. Tabloids. Everything boils down to the gag, the snap ending. Classics cut to fit fifteen-minute radio shows, then cut again to fill a two-minute book column, winding up at last as a ten- or twelve-line dictionary resume. I exaggerate, of course. The dictionaries were for reference. But many were those whose sole knowledge of Hamlet (you know the title certainly, Montag; it is probably only a faint rumor of a title to you, Mrs. Montag) whose sole knowledge, as I say, of Hamlet was a one-page digest in a book that claimed: now at least you can read all the classics; keep up with your neighbors. Do you see? Out of the nursery into the college and back to the nursery; there's your intellectual pattern for the past five centuries or more. Speed up the film, Montag, quick. Click? Pic? Look, Eye, Now, Flick, Here, There, Swift, Pace, Up, Down, In, Out, Why, How, Who, What, Where, Eh? Uh! Bang! Smack! Wallop, Bing, Bong, Boom! Digest-digests, digest-digest-digests. Politics? One column, two sentences, a headline! Then, in mid-air, all vanishes! Whirl man's mind around about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers, exploiters, broadcasters, that the centrifuge flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting thought! School is shortened, discipline relaxed, philosophies, histories, languages dropped, English and spelling gradually neglected, finally almost completely ignored. Life is immediate, the job counts, pleasure lies all about after work. Why learn anything save pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts? Empty the theatres save for clowns and furnish the rooms with glass walls and pretty colors running up and down the walls like confetti or blood or sherry or sauterne. You like baseball, don't you, Montag? More sports for everyone, group spirit, fun, and you don't have to think, eh? Organize and organize and super organize super-super sports. More cartoons in books. More pictures. The mind drinks less and less. Impatience. Highways full of crowds going somewhere, somewhere, somewhere, nowhere. The gasoline refuge. Towns turn into motels, people in nomadic surges from place to place, following the moon tides, living tonight in the room where you slept this noon and I the night before. Now let's take up the minorities in our civilization, shall we? Bigger the population, the more minorities. Don't step on the toes of the dog-lovers, the cat-lovers, doctors, lawyers, merchants, chiefs, Mormons, Baptists, Unitarians, second-generation Chinese, Swedes, Italians, Germans, Texans, Brooklynites, Irishmen, people from Oregon or Mexico. The people in this book, this play, this TV serial are not meant to represent any actual painters, cartographers, mechanics anywhere. The bigger your market, Montag, the less you handle controversy, remember that! All the minor minor minorities with their navels to be kept clean. Authors, full of evil thoughts, lock up your typewriters. They did. Magazines became a nice blend of vanilla tapioca. Books, so the damned snobbish critics said, were dishwater. No wonder books stopped selling, the critics said. But the public, knowing what it wanted, spinning happily, let the comic-books survive. And the three-dimensional sex-magazines, of course. There you have it, Montag. It didn't come from the Government down. There was no dictum, no declaration, no censorship, to start with, no! Technology, mass exploitation, and minority pressure carried the trick, thank God. You must understand that our civilization is so vast that we can't have our minorities upset and stirred. Ask yourself, What do we want in this country, above all? People want to be happy, isn't that right? Haven't you heard it all your life? I want to be happy, people say. Well, aren't they? Don't we keep them moving, don't we give them fun? That's all we live for, isn't it? For pleasure, for titillation? And you must admit our culture provides plenty of these. Colored people don't like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag. Take your fight outside. Better yet, into the incinerator. Funerals are unhappy and pagan? Eliminate them, too. Forget them. Burn them all, burn everything. Fire is bright and fire is clean. [There was a girl next door. She's gone now, I think, dead. I can't even remember her face. But she was different. How? How did she happen?] Here or there, that's bound to occur. Heredity and environment are funny things. You can't rid yourselves of all the odd ducks in just a few years. The home environment can undo a lot you try to do at school. That's why we've lowered the kindergarten age year after year until now we're almost snatching them from the cradle. If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the Government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it. Peace, Montag. Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs or the names of state capitals or how much corn Iowa grew last year. Cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely `brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Any man who can take a TV wall apart and put it back together again, and most men can nowadays, is happier than any man who tries to slide-rule, measure, and equate the universe, which just won't be measured or equated without making man feel bestial and lonely. I know, I've tried it; to hell with it. So bring on your clubs and parties, your acrobats and magicians, your dare-devils, jet cars, motorcycle helicopters, your sex and heroin, more of everything to do with automatic reflex. If the drama is bad, if the film says nothing, if the play is hollow, sting me with the Theremin, loudly. I'll think I'm responding to the play, when it's only a tactile reaction to vibration. But I don't care. I just like solid entertainment." We always talk about 1984 and Brave New World as the dystopias we are living in today, but Ray Bradbury´s book, written in the early 50s, is scarily accurate, describing perfectly and especially the last three/four years.

#Fahrenheit 451 #Ray Bradbury #1984 #Brave New World

[dw-writes]

Dial Tone Devil - Chapter One

Summary: Lucifer’s reputation of granting favors is the second best thing his known for. So when you ask for one - point blank - and offer him immediate repayment in the form of a coin he thought to be long gone, he immediately agrees. But you come with baggage, and series of suspicious circumstances, and Lucifer finds himself full invested in your story.

All because of a suspiciously familiar coin.

Interesting.

A/N: Listen...... just listen to me, I know I shouldn’t be writing another series but I don’t even care, I’ve wanted to do something for Lucifer for FOREVER so I decided to eue. SO. I hope that you enjoy this. It’s a lot of fun, I have it all plotted out (for once) and I’m THRILLED for it.

If you’d like to be tagged in this, please let me know!!! I’ll be more than happy to tag you.

Chapters: Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven || Chapter Twelve || Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fourteen || Chapter Fifteen

More Content: Dial Tone Christmas || The Keys to Lux || Quarantine

To Tag: @revinval @spotgaai2000 @measure-in-pain @kittenlittle24 @broadwayandnetflix

It started with a coin, a weird gold one with a star on one side. You found it on the road outside of a club as you walked home, sitting on the curb without anyone or anything around it. You flipped it over, weighed the heavy – and scalding – coin in your palm as you stared up at the club behind you.

The club was Lux.

You tilted your head, squinting as the sun glared off the multiple glass panes, and glanced down at the coin.

“Sorry, dear, but we have to let you go. Business reconstruction, you understand.”

“Listen, it’s not…This isn’t a personal thing, but your work this year just hasn’t been up to snuff. You’re gonna have to repeat the class next year, get your grade replaced with a better one.”

“We’ve given you extensions every month on you’re rent, we can’t keep doing this. You have to be on time, this month, or you have to find somewhere else to live.”

If divine providence was real, this was a holy intervention. You rolled the coin around in your palm, pressing the burning metal into your palm as you made your way to the door. It hurt to walk. Your arms ached as you pushed open the frosted glass door. The dark atmosphere immediately made your eyes heavy as you looked around the entrance and made your way down the hall and into the club proper.

A woman looked up from the bar, narrowing her dark eyes as she cleaned a set of glasses. “We’re closed.”

“Sorry, sorry, I—” You cleared your throat and plucked the coin from your hand. Even in the dark, you could see the pentagram seared into your flesh, already forming a welt where it had sat. “I found this? Outside?”

She made her way around the bar with echoing steps. “You found this?” She snatched it from your fingers. “Outside?”

You  nodded extremely slowly. “Yes, I did.” You watched as she frowned, turning it over in her hands. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“Make it quick,” she answered, distracted, as she pulled her phone from her tight leather pants. She started to punch in a number, and set the phone on the counter.

“Are you guys hiring?”

She started to answer, still distracted by the coin in her hands, and paused. Stared at you. Narrowed her eyes even more. They traveled down your body, and the eyebrow with the scar cutting it in two slowly inched up. She nodded, satisfied, and returned her eyes to your face. “Can you dance?” she asked.

“I—excuse me?”

“Maze, you can take care of everything here for the day? The detective called, we have a case, and—” You and the bartender – Maze – turned towards the British voice. The man, dressed to the nines, paused as he came down the stairs from an elevator. “Oh, hello there.” He buttoned the coat at his waist and held out a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” You took his hand, voice catching on multiple starts of multiple sentences. “I’m Lucifer. Morningstar.”

You blindly reached out and sloppily grabbed the coin from Maze’s hand, holding it up in front of your face. And his. “Like the Devil?” you asked. His face, a mask of charm and allure, fell as he went cross-eyed, staring at the coin. “I found this outside on the curb.”

“Did you now,” he breathed, slowly, with a voice so full of reverence you thought you offered him diamonds. “Funny, I lost a coin just like this a while back to my father.” As he reached for it, you dropped the coin back into your palm. Now, it was him who was at a loss for words.

“Are you hiring?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you hiring?” you repeated. He released your hand to slide his into perfectly tailored pockets. You swallowed, and stuttered, “I need a job, badly. I can bartend, I can answer phones, I can do paperwork, Hell, I will clean—”

“Will you give me the coin?” You started at the sudden statement. He smiled. On another face, it would be slimy. “Consider the job a favor on my behalf, and all I ask is for the coin.” You stared at Maze, who had poured herself a drink between Lucifer arriving and that moment, and now drank slowly with a shrug. “You can answer phones? How about my assistant, hm? You can work here in the club, use the office – I don’t find much use for it anyway. Make sure paperwork is all in line, orders, all the not fun legal things that make Lux run.”

“For how—”

He turned to Maze. “What does a job like that pay? What do you make, catching all those nasty humans?”

“Enough.”

“Hm.” He turned back to you. “How about we say…Thirty? An hour?” You choked on the air in your lungs.

“That sounds low, Lucifer, you could better,” Maze prompted.

“Forty?”

You stepped back and pressed a hand to your chest. Were those palpitations? You were very sure you were having palpitations over the flippancy of which the British club owner was negotiating your wages. You could see Maze’s lips turn down in a massive, expressive frown. “Oh, why not fifty, that sounds reasonable.” He paused, and stared at a distant spot on the wall. “No, an even fifty-one. An hour, of course. That puts you just north of one-hundred-thousand dollars a year.”

You started to laugh: small, delirious giggles that bubbled out of your mouth like rabid foam. You covered your mouth to try and stifle them, and found it impossible. Tears pricked your eyes. Maze nodded slowly.

“That’s so much?” you tried to say around your laughter. “I—”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He smiled. “I will personally ensure that you earn that money.”

You held out the coin. He plucked it from your fingers, and tucked it into a pocket inside his blazer. “Perfect. I happen to know a few good lawyers, we can get the paperwork drawn up before the end of the day.” His hand slid over your shoulder, and turned you around, towards the door you had walked through. “Do you have the time? We can head to an office now, get everything settled, and you can start tomorrow.”

You pressed your fingers into your cheeks to smooth the tears away. “You don’t even know my name,” you whispered.

He leaned into the door to prop it open. “And what is it?” he asked. You gave it, quietly, breathlessly, and he smiled something akin to the sun. “Splendid…”

The paperwork was easy enough: a stack of legalese so small you thought you were getting dizzy, but you asked for a copy of it and found it sound. You even took notes. Lucifer escorted you out to his car as you read through the contract a second time, and then a third. You sank into the passenger’s seat of his beautiful convertible and sighed.

“Is something wrong? We can go back in and fix things,” he said as he sat in behind the wheel.

“No!” you exclaimed, looking up, “No, no, this is wonderful. I—” You gasped and shook your head, looking up through the windshield. Even in the parking lot, the lawyer he knew had a Hell of a view of the City of Angels. You sat back against the leather. “I never thought anything like this could happen.”

“What, you never thought you’d meet the Devil?” he asked with a grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I…” You hugged the contract to your chest. “I never thought I’d get more second chances.” You looked up. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

He started the car. “Well, don’t thank me yet. You still owe me a favor.” He motioned to you. “Buckle up.”

“No? I don’t, I gave you your coin, that was the agreement.” You sat back as he turned out of the parking lot. “What do I need to know? Being your…assistant.”

“Oh, well, you’ll be helping me to manage Lux,” he slowed at a stop sign and continued on, peeling away from the intersection without a sound. “Like I said: orders, hiring—”

“Hiring?”

“Book acts, and parties, and setting up events—”

“Okay—”

“Taking phone calls for me, like the ones from the police. I mean, I know I’m consultant, but it isn’t my day job.”

“Should I write this down?”

“Oh, and finding a way to make sure the Holy can’t just drop into my place of business.” He violently rolled his eyes. “Find a witch doctor, curse the place, I don’t care, I can’t stand my brother dropping in at all times when he feels like it.” He tapped his fingers against the wheel. “Except when he wants a drink, then he drop as much money as he wants. And then there’s my mother, I can’t stand getting her calls on top of the Detective’s and the police departments—do they not understand that I have other things to attend to? Not that I dislike either, but I—”

You sucked on your teeth, looked around in your bag, and scribbled a list out on the back of a receipt. “Got it.”

“Wha—” He stopped at a light and stared at you. “You did?”

You nodded and lifted the list. “Anything else?”

Lucifer paused. He sat back in the seat, and stared at the light above his head. “Huh. I should have thought of hiring you years ago.”

You tilted your head and smacked your lips. “Well, I didn’t live in L.A. years ago, so you’ve lucked out.”

“You didn’t?” He hummed, and started back down the road. “Well, tell me about yourself! I know nothing of you, save your name and the luck of your timing.”

You continued to scribble on the receipt, notes that for what you could do to fulfill the requests he’s made of you, and rattled off the information he asked of you, “I took a break after high school that turned into a decade of poor choices and shitty apartments in equally shitty cities and situations across the country, and now I’m here.”

“Here doing what?” he prodded.

“School?” you offered, “I dunno, I’m just trying to find something that catches my attention and gives me that spark.” You shrugged. “It’s hard. Just not enough of the right chemicals for my brain to sit in.”

“Excuse me?”

You sighed. “It’s nothing.”

Lucifer took pause. “This must be what the Detective feels when I’m talking…”

You looked up, and folded the list together to stick into your bag. “Are you taking me home?” you asked when you finally looked up and saw the buildings whizzing past.

“No, back to Lux, but if you want me to take you home, I certainly can,” he answered with a wink and smile.

You nodded slowly. “Not what I meant.”

“Oh.”

“Uh, what street are we on?” You turned around to stare at a street sign. “We need to go to McArthur Park.”

“McArthur—” You thought the tires burned with how hard he slammed on the brakes. You braced against the dashboard, wheezing as the seatbelt cut into your chest. “You will not be staying there, certainly not when you’re working for me.”

“It was the only place I could afford, given the circumstances,” you protested, looking over. “And I can update my lease by month, in case I need somewhere else to live.”

“Good.” He leaned on the wheel as he stared at you. “Then you will no problem moving into Lux.”

“Excuse me—”

“Oh I will not be excusing any part of you. Consider Lux part of your employment package.” He scoffed, shifted gears, and continued to drive. You opened your mouth. “No exceptions!” He shook he head. “Cannot believe you thought you could drive from McArthur Park—what if I needed you right away?”

“I don’t drive, I take the bus,” you whispered.

“Well, that’s even worse!”

“It’s not??” You stared as he continued to complain, now on a completely new tangent, shaking his head. You wondered just what you got yourself into with such a deal – a new job, a new home, and a chance to restart?

Who in the world did you make a deal with?

#lucifer morningstar #dial tone devil series #lucifer on fox #lucifer on netflix #lucifer on fox requests #lucifer on netflix requests #lucifer on fox imagines #lucifer on netflix imagines #lucifer on fox imagine #lucifer on netflix imagine #lucifer morningstar imagines #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar requests #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar/reader

[secretlittlerandezvous]

Choosing A Godfather - David Pastrnak

Summary: David and the reader invite the boys over to meet their newborn baby. After awhile they need to announce who they picked as the godfather.

Words: 1489

“Here’s to the nights that turned into mornings with the friends that turned into family.”

It was like the whole world around me or rather around us suddenly stopped, the time slowed down and I completely lost track of what day of the week it was. Sometimes I didn’t even know if the sun was rising or setting. But it didn’t matter to me as I was still in awe of becoming a mom, having our son with us already and of finally being a family of three which was something we wished for many long months. I couldn’t believe how in love I was with our little boy and how my feelings for David became even stronger and how strong my love for the two boys I got to call mine was. I was unable to find words that would describe all the emotions I felt. Love, joy, happiness just as exhaustion, stress and a little bit of anxiety. It was a mix of emotions some of them I knew and some of them were new to me and only those with children could truly understand them. No matter how hard I tried to describe how overwhelming and endless my love for our son was I always felt like it wasn’t quite enough and that my friends without children couldn’t possibly understand it.

The moment we found out I was pregnant David turned into a sweeter man than he already was. He willingly helped with everything and did housework without any complaining which was definitely a surprising change and he protected me more than it was healthy but it sure paid off considering how clumsy I could be. He started cooking and kept asking me about my cravings although I very rarely experienced them, he held my hair when I was throwing up in the mornings and he cuddled with me every chance we got. He insisted on going to every doctor's appointment and he cried when we saw the ultrasound or when we heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. I’ve never seen him happier and more excited.

People around us shared the joy and excitement together with us. My family and his couldn’t wait for the newest addition to the family and they all started planning their visit once he’s here. My closest friends cried when I announced the news to them as they knew it was a long journey for me and David, they were excited to become aunties and started buying cute outfits and toys even before we knew the baby’s gender. I was grateful yet the superstitious part of me worried each time we received a new gift and I was scared of bad things happening. The boys threw a big party for us (well mostly for David and themselves) and the ones who had kids already welcomed David to the dad’s club. I dreamed of having a family of my own one day but only when I got pregnant, I realized I was already a part of a new family.

“Bergy called saying they’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” David whispered sticking his head in between the doors to check if our boy was sleeping or not. “We can still cancel it if you’re tired. You didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“No, we’re not canceling anything. I’m alright,” I gave David a reassuring smile and took our boy out of his crib. “The boys couldn’t wait to meet him from the moment we told them. I’m not ruining the joy for them.” I chuckled.

“Not for all of them though. Don’t forget that Marchy and Torey showed up in the hospital anyway,” David laughed at the memory. Brad and Torey visited us in the hospital on the second day of being there and they couldn’t keep their eyes off of the newborn and they kept arguing about who was going to be the godfather.

Once Brad, Torey, Patrice, Jake, Coyle, and Zdeno arrived the whole house was filled with laughter and unconditional love and happiness and I felt a little sad we decided to welcome the boys in smaller groups because I suddenly missed the presence of the rest of the boys and of course Tuukka’s presence although he hardly ever hang out with us. We had good food and drinks and we exchanged different stories from finding out about the pregnancy to labor to how fast they grow.

“I gotta say I was worried that poor kid will look like David, but he looks just like you Y/n,” Marchy laughed.

“He really does,” Zdeno agreed. “Little man is lucky to have you two as parents. His dad is an absolute legend already and his mom is a gem. I’m happy for you guys.” Zdeno’s words warmed my heart and I could tell from David’s face he appreciated the words from not only his captain but also a close friend more than he would admit.

“Let’s pray he won’t be as annoying and immature then,” I joked. I always teased David about being an overgrown child and that he was immature but in the last nine months he turned into a different and more responsible man.

“Torey, I don’t want to be that person again but I have to remind you that you have a baby at home as well so you could share this one with the rest of us,” Charlie complained and carefully took the little boy into his arms, sat down to get some extra support and he started smiling and tickling him on his little stomach.

I went to sit in David’s lap, wrapped my hands around his neck and kissed his cheek to express my happiness and gratefulness without having to say a word. We looked at each other for a moment and then we glanced over at the guys who gathered around our son and made all sorts of faces at him and sang different songs.

“So, have you finally decided who’s gonna be his grandfather?” Torey asked and all of them raised their eyebrows at us. The boys started arguing and begging us to make them his grandfather shortly after we broke the news to them and me and David never had the heart to announce the decision. We knew all of them would do their absolute best and we never doubted about any of them for a single second, yet we ended up choosing one and we postponed the announcement for as long as it was possible.

“Boys, we love you all, we truly do and we know you all would be excellent grandfathers and if we could we would choose all of you without thinking twice about it,” I started the speech I prepared in my head dozens of times knowing it would be handy sooner or later.

“Oh, stop it Y/n, we all know you guys picked me and Katrina,” Marchy said confidently but the boys disagreed and immediately laughed at him.

“You seriously think they would choose you Marchy? They, of course, chose me,” Charlie joined the conversation.

“You? You don’t even have kids why would they pick you?” Torey questioned.

“That’s exactly why they should pick me. So, I can gain some experience.” Charlie answered.

“Meanwhile these idiots argue I just wanna tell you guys that I’ll be happy with being just a funny and protective uncle,” Jake came to sit next to us and smiled and we all laughed together at the group of grown-ups arguing like little kids.

“Maybe we should’ve picked Jake after all,” David laughed. “Anyway, before we tell you I would like to say thank you to my love Y/n for giving me the best gift someone could ever give me. Y/n, honey, I adore you for everything you do, and I love you.”

“I love you too,” I smiled and sent him a kiss before he continued.

“I also wanted to say thanks to all of you guys. We’re really grateful to have such an amazing family and we’re happy that our boy will have so many great uncles. I hope you won’t be mad at us for choosing Bergy as the godfather.” David said the last sentence so quietly that even I had a hard time understanding him although I sat right next to him. The boys seemed to understand perfectly. They all clapped their hands, hugged Patrice and with genuine smiles congratulated him.

“I don’t know what else to say except that I love you all and thank you. I’ll do my best to be a responsible godfather to this beautiful boy.” Patrice took his godson into his arms, kissed his forehead and then went to hug as and shortly after it we took some pictures together.

We spent the rest of the day the same way it started. We spent it by laughing, smiling and enjoying every moment of each other’s presence and soaked up the love and happiness.

#david pastrnak #david pastrnak imagines #david pastrnak writing #david pastrnak one shot #david pastrnak imagine #boston bruins #boston bruins imagines #boston bruins writing #boston bruins one shots #boston bruins imagine #nhl players imagines #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl one shot #hockey imagines #hockey writing #hockey one shot #hockey imagine #🐻💛

[mean-green-imagines]

Mutant Side of the Tracks

Basic Information

The University of South New York, or USNY, is a college about 30 minute north of New York City, and it’s one of the few universities in New York that accepts mutants and will actually allow them to attend classes and live on campus with the human students. Although, the campus is not as happy and accepting as they make themselves out to be. Even though they let mutants to attend, they make it exceptionally harder for them to get in...price-wise. 

The majority of mutants grew up in poverty since before they can even remember. There were no good jobs for mutants and the ones they could get would pay the absolute lowest they could without getting in any trouble. So, it’s harder for them to afford college and they usually worked hard to get a scholarship to help pay for most of their expenses. 

As for housing, mutants will more often be seen living in apartments or small houses with at least one roommate or more to help split the rent. The campus dorms were simply too expensive, even with the scholarships, so the mutants tended to live off campus, anywhere from five to almost twenty minutes away from campus. 

Character info:

Leonardo Hamato: Leo is a fourth year business major and he’s always been very dead set on opening up his own martial arts studio once he’s graduated. He is on the football team as a running back and is also in one of the biggest fraternities on campus. Leo doesn’t live in the frat house though. He lives by himself in a one bed/one bath apartment. He has to work a lot to afford his rent but it’s worth it so he can live by himself. He’s always had to live and share everything with his three brothers and home would usually be chaos and not very relaxing, so this apartment is definitely worth it to him. Leo works part time as a student assistant in the business department. He basically just takes a lot of phone calls, scans papers, and brings coffee to the professors if they ask for it. When it comes to parties, you usually won’t find Leo in the smoke circle like Donnie and Mikey. He’ll be drinking beer and throwing back shots. But maybe he’ll join in the smoke circle if he’s really feeling spunky.

Raphael Hamato: Raph is a fourth year physical therapy major and has been playing with the idea lately of changing it to sports management, but he’s so close to being done with his original major that he can’t bring himself to switch. Raph is also on the football team and is usually the kicker when he’s not on the defensive line. Raph lives in a two bed/one bath apartment with his friend, Casey Jones, who is on the hockey team. Raph and Casey like to throw parties in their apartment, but they tend to get out of hand pretty quickly and the cops usually end up showing up to shut it down. Raph works part time at the school gym, making sure everyone gets checked in and out as well as keeping the equipment clean and disinfected. Raph will smoke with Donnie and Mikey happily anytime, but never at parties. It just freaks him out too much with all the noise and the lights, so he’ll be with Leo taking shots. 

Donatello Hamato: Donnie is a third year biomechanical engineering major and he managed to get into school with an academic scholarship as well as a basketball scholarship, so he is also on the basketball team. The coach saw Donnie’s height and his strength and stamina at the tryouts and knew that Donnie would be great for the team. Of course, Donnie jumped at the opportunity and was overjoyed when he received a hefty academic scholarship on top of that. Even though Donnie has a busy schedule with his classes and basketball practices, he still works part time at the movie theater that’s about ten minutes away from campus. When he’s not working or studying or practicing basketball, he enjoys playing video games and smoking with his brother/roommate, Mikey. Donnie is a low-key stoner and doesn’t smoke quite as often as Mikey, but he’ll smoke just about everyday once his day is over and he can relax, but not if he has too much homework or studying to do. 

Michelangelo Hamato: Mikey is a second year art major with a minor in photography. He shares a two bed/one bath apartment with his brother, Donatello, and is a very active member of the university’s art club. Mikey has a part time job working at the local pizza place, just downtown from campus. He works in the kitchen making the pizzas and sandwiches and whatnot, but when he knows he has a serving shift coming up, he lets his brothers and friends know so they can come and visit him. Mikey is definitely the stoner of the group and whenever he gets the chance, he’ll gladly hit a bowl and just relax and work on is art assignments or just play video games or watch anime. Donnie loves to partake in the herb as well since his schedule tends to be very stressful and demanding. 

Jennifer (Jen) Dahl: Jen is a fourth year medical student and is in the pre-health courses studying Chiropractic Medicine. She’s always had problems with her back and often needed to see chiropractors. So when she was deciding her major, she remembered how much her doctors helped her with her back and decided that she wanted to help people like that too. Jen is also minoring in creative writing, so sometimes you'll find her at the cafe typing away for hours on some days. She works part time at the campus gym with Raph, so they’ve become good work buddies and good friends outside of work as well. She loves to smoke, but has been cutting back so she can focus on her school better and make better grades. 

Carol Scott: Carol is a third year architecture major with a minor in interior design. She is apart of rather large sorority, which happens to be Leo’s sister sorority, so the two know each other quite well through sorority/fraternity events and mixers. Although she is planning on leaving her sorority since the events take a lot of her time, she’s also leaving because she hasn’t been able to connect with the other girls and she feels left out the majority of the time. Her personality just doesn’t mix with theirs, and she found that out pretty quickly after joining. Carol is also good friends with Mikey since they both have a lot of art classes together and she got to meet Donnie through Mikey when she got invited to their place to smoke and hang out. Carol, like Mikey and Donnie, smokes everyday. She rarely drinks though since she has a very sensitive stomach and can’t handle a lot of alcohol. So she sticks with a small glass of wine or a hard cider when she does decide to drink. Carol works part time as a student assistant in the art department and does basically the same things as Leo does at his job. 

Juniper (June) Ferrari: June is a second year computer science major who got in on a full academic scholarship. She may not exactly act like it, but she’s very intelligent and can fix any computer that you bring to her. Her main focus is learning how to program video games and how to make software for computers so that they can run big PC games that take up a lot of space. June is a bit of a party animal and she's become pretty popular with the rest of the upperclassmen since you’ll see her in the smoke circle one minute and then in the living room or kitchen taking shots the next, and she was always fine the next day. June works part time as a waitress at the same pizza restaurant Mikey works at and she splits the rent with Jen on a small house only five minutes away from campus. 

Aurora Giovanni: Aurora is a third year psychology student and she has plans of becoming a mental health practitioner. She used to live a rather lavish life before choosing to come to college, and when her parents fell through on funding, she found her roommate, Carol. The two girls split rent on a two bed/one bath apartment and she always enjoys joining Carol in her visits to Mikey and Donnie’s apartment. Aurora works as a sales assistant at a high end clothing store in the mall about fifteen minutes away from campus. She wears very nice clothing, which usually gets her a good bit of attention, and she’s a bit of a party person like June is. You can find her either in a smoke circle or in another room taking shots. 

#tmnt #tmnt fanfic #tmnt au #mutant side of the tracks au #college au #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt oc #tmnt ocs #tmnt aurora #tmnt jen #tmnt june #tmnt carol #romance #angst #love triangles

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Animal (14)

Chadwick Boseman X Original Female Character “Sianna”

Chapter Warning: Cursing, Angst, Plot, Plenty of Words, Slow Burn

Word Count: 4.9k

Note:  I hope you guys enjoy this. By the way, Tumblr is on the BS and flagged every chapter because my old mood board had a portrayal of backshots. LMFAO!!!! So new mood board. 

I censored my mood board, let’s see if it gets flagged. LOL

**Loosely edited/Proofread***

Thank you guys for reading!!!  If you enjoyed this please LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT. ❤️ ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Chadwick-

“It’s not Netflix and Chill. It’s not Netflix and Chill. She is the mother of your children. Show her you’re not just another sex-craved black man. You have depth. You have substance and standards. You’re not easy.”

 He sat in his car in the traffic on the freeway looking at himself as he recited his lecture. He’d said this or something similar to himself quite a few times and each time he’d ended up doing the opposite. The club, the picnic by the lake, it was endless, especially when he’d wanted more from the picnic date. His thoughts went back to the first night he ever met you and how things were so effortless. You made him laugh, made him think and lit a flame that had long been dormant, even Simone hadn’t lit that spark. When the sun rose and he saw you beside him he knew he wanted to see you again. Then Barbados happened and now thanks to Barbados the two of you were joined forever—through lives you’d created.

 He’d thought a lot over the last near three weeks and had spoken to his brother Kevin about things and he was grateful he and Kevin were so close. He’d given him some great advice and important insight, insight he needed from someone who really knew him away from the grind of Hollywood. He knew what he wanted, he just had to figure out how what he wanted fit into what you wanted.

 Honks brought him back to reality and the fact that traffic was finally moving. He maneuvered the rest of the drive in a little over fifteen minutes. When he pulled onto your street, he drove to the end of the cul-de-sac where your house sat. It was a quaint modernly built two-story home that seemed to suit you. He parked in the driveway behind your car and sat there for a few moments and tried to gain some perspective and control over her nervousness.

By the time he rang your bell, he’d sat in your driveway for over five minutes and he’d barely been able to calm himself down. This was out of character for him, he was normally so self-assured, so mellow. When you opened the door the scent of brown sugar, cinnamon and gardenia hit him first. Then his eyes took in how your stomach had popped out.

 “Hi.”

 He looked up to your face and took in your wide smile, a smile he couldn’t help but mirror.

 “Hi.

 “What in the world is all of that?” You nodded to his filled arms.

 “Uh, some of this and that.”

 “Come in. I’m not one hundred percent sure my neighbors aren’t gossips who love to spy.” He snorted and walked through the door inside. Without being told he began kicking off his shoes, then he turned to you. Your smile was wider.

 “What?”

 “Nothing, nothing.”

 He looked down to his feet where your eyes were.

 “I’m a black man and know the importance of taking shoes off when you go inside someone’s home.”

 You nodded and held up your thumbs and looked to his hands.

 “Want me to take anything?” He angled his side out to you, the side where he held a bouquet of flowers.

“Those.” You smiled and took the bouquet and smelled them.

 “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

 “Of course.” The look you gave him was a concealed one. He bet with time and familiarity he would be able to decipher it, but right now it left him a little confused.

 “Come, follow me to the kitchen.” You walked ahead and he trailed behind. His eyes roamed your figure, down the small of your back to the flare of your hips and down your legs. He was plenty acquainted with your curves without clothes, but in clothes, he liked even more.

 When you got into the kitchen you placed the flowers on the counter and that was where he placed the items he carried. “Ready to tell me what all this is?”

 “Well, every craving must be filled, so hot wings from this vegan southern place that is close to my house, they’re amazing. Ice-cream, a few different flavors, you looked like you could either be a vanilla, butterscotch, almond pistachio or cherry jubilee kind of woman so I brought them all. Also, no craving fulfillment is complete without those chocolate-covered strawberries. I called in a favor from someone I know over at Godiva and this is their largest order—seventy.”

 Your eyes were as big as the full moon he knew was shining in the night sky.

 “Oh, my goodness, Chad, you really didn’t have to do this.”

 “Oh, I know, I wanted to. It can’t be easy carrying a baby, let alone two and I wanted to show you that I care.” You flared your nose and pinched your lips, smiled and in a matter of seconds. the smile faded and turned into a frown before tears rolled down your cheeks. Confusion rushed through him and he just stood there unsure what to do.

 “Uh—I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Say something—”

 “No, no. I’m sorry. I just—I don’t know what this is.”

 You walked away, ripped off a piece of paper towel and dabbed at your eyes and sniffled. He was afraid to move; he didn’t know if he would do something else that set you off.

 “I’m sorry. Oh my god, how embarrassing. We’re going to blame it on hormones. According to my doctor, I’m filled with enough for three women.”

 You took a deep breath and released it then looked at him with a smile on your face as if nothing had happened.

 “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 “I’m sure. Thank you for all of this. It’s very—sweet of you.”

 “You’re welcome.”

 “Oh my god, Netflix is waiting.” You made a move to take some of what he brought but he stopped you.

 “Just so you know, all of these are my favorites.” You brought the pints of ice cream to the freezer and put three in but held on to the pistachio almond.

 “Seems like a good place to start.”

 When the two of you got comfortable in the living room you scanned the TV for a movie while he opened the container of food.

 “Sci-Fi good?”

 “Oh, thank god, I thought you were going to put something on like The Notebook, or even The Best Man.”

 You laughed, then narrowed your eyes at him.

 “Look, just because I’m pregnant does not mean I want to watch some romantic tearjerker.”

 “I see and I am relieved.”

 You smiled at him and he skimmed your face. In the low lite and glow from the television, you looked good, happy.

 “Speaking of pregnant, you look it.”

 “Are you calling me fat?”

 “God no. no, no, no. not fat. Just the last time I saw you, I could barely tell. Now, you have a full-on belly.”

 “First of all, calm down. Second, yeah. I’m told I should expect to get bigger, carrying twins is no joke. My doctor says I’ll probably gain seventy pounds.”

 “Wow, seventy? I take it you’re not very happy with that.”

 You put a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth and shrugged. “I’ve put it into perspective, even come to terms with the fact that I’ll be in maternity wear in a week or two. It even got me thinking about incorporating a maternity line.”

 He chuckled. Every day you were growing even more pregnant and you were planning ways to increase your workload. Your determination and ambition were very attractive to him. He liked to know there was someone else like him, someone else just as hungry for success.

 “More work, not less I see.”

 “I have three and a halfish, four months to get it all out of my system.”

 The opening credits began and again silence fell between the two of you. He tried to focus on the movie and not you, but your movements always caught his eye. You ate the hot wings without a thought that he was beside you. After a few wings, you took a few spoonfuls of ice cream, then repeated the action. You looked perfectly content and he was happy for it. he was happy that things weren’t awkward between you especially given the state of things and all that had transpired between you. This was a great relief and it also assured him that his recent decision had the potential to work.

 The movie was not corny or low budget it was actually a well-done piece of science fiction and he enjoyed it. when the closing credits rolled you were sitting with your legs crossed in the couch, your hands nestled underneath the swell of your belly and your back leaned back which sent your breasts hoisted into the air. Unintentionally his eyes locked onto those breasts. They were bigger than he remembered, and he could see several veins protruding from underneath your mocha skin. Slowly his tongue darted across his lips wetting them, he was suddenly thirstier than ever. When he looked to your face your eyes were on him. He’d been caught. His immediate response was to apologize and avert his eyes, but he didn’t, instead, he held your gaze.

 “Sianna—”

 You reached out and took his hand and placed it on your stomach. As soon as he touched you he felt the flutters of kicks underneath his hand. Slowly his eyes widened as he looked at you, then they dropped to your belly.

 “Oh my god. Is that?” You nodded.

 “They’ve been very active today,” you said.

 He got closer; he’d never felt this before. With his friend when his wife was pregnant, he’d felt her stomach once or twice, but it wasn’t like this. This was completely different. He had no relation to her child, who was now his goddaughter. Right here, he had a relation, and he felt a connection. Slowly he slid off the couch and settled in front of you and placed his other hand to join the first and he just kept them there feeling not only the kicks but the energy of the babies—his babies. They felt strong. He felt their light and it was bright. They were meant for great things.

A smile spread across his face, then he looked to you.

 “How does it feel?”

 “At first it was strange, now—I’m starting to like it. sometimes I’ll forget what’s going on and then out of nowhere I get a kick and I’m right back to reality.”

 He smiled even more; he could picture you getting lost with work until they kicked.

 “Seems like they’re showing some personality already. They want to constantly be thought of.” You smiled at him and nodded.

 “They kick more when you talk. They must like your voice.”

 His smile was wide, toothy and completely genuine. Your smile faltered and a look of confusion washed over you. He wanted to know all your looks, wanted to know you so well that he was never confused again about how you felt, or what you were thinking.

 “I’ve been thinking a lot,” he began.

 “About what?”

 “About um—about this, the babies, you—us.”

 He felt like he’d never spoken to a woman in his life.

 “It was a lot to think over, and a lot to process and I couldn’t really—I’m sorry it took so long.”

 “Eh, it’s fine. You’re right it’s a lot. You needed the right amount of time. It’s not something to just jump into without knowing just what you’re jumping into.”

 He rubbed your belly again and got lost there.

 “I would like to be involved. I know neither of us planned this, and we probably would have not chosen to enter this like this. I know you wanted to be more established with your career and maybe married, and I would have liked to have dated you first, showed you who I am and why we’re perfect for each other and things like that but here we are. Backward and out of order don’t mean this is something unwelcomed. I’ve always wanted kids, and I want to be there for these babies in any capacity you’ll allow. I want to be there for you.”

 You bit your bottom lip and stared at him contemplatively. This look he kind of recognized, he’d seen it before, but it didn’t mean he knew what it meant.

 “You’re so quiet, I’m trying so hard to read you, but I can’t and it’s driving me crazy. What do you want?”

 “You.”

 His eyebrows shot up again. He hadn’t expected that.

 “I mean you to be involved. They are yours Chad, I didn’t make them alone and I don’t want to take you away from them. I don’t want them to not grow up having a father in their life. It hit me today that they may very well come out looking like you and it would be so meaningful for them to know they look like their father.”

 He nodded and smiled small. It was a thought he just thought of. He could have a son that looked like him, or a daughter with his nose, or eyes. It gave him a lite feeling. He looked back to you and decided he wanted his daughter to look like you.

 “We have to approach this right. You’re this huge star and I don’t want them to become tabloid fodder.”

 “I get that Sianna, I don’t want that either. I want to protect them from that, protect you.”

 The two of you stared again and spoke nonverbally. He wasn’t sure how the two of you were going to do this, but he knew he wanted a lot more than just being in the babies’ lives.

 “Sianna.”

 Taking a chance, he slipped the hem of your shirt above your navel and exposed your belly. He slowly caressed your skin and gawked at your beauty. It was something else to see you uncovered and nude, but to see you like this knowing you were carrying his children made him want you more than he’d ever wanted anything. He lowered his lips to your burgeoning belly and kissed your bump once, twice and a third.

 He softly placed his forehead onto your belly and closed his eyes and tried to connect with the two lives inside you. Your hand touched his jaw and tipped his face to meet yours. You bit your bottom lip, uncrossed your legs and slid off the edge of the couch and down onto his lap. Your belly was pressed to him, but his eyes were glued to yours. He brought his hand to your cheek and softly grazed your skin. You closed your eyes and nuzzled your cheek in his palm.

 “Chad.” It was a whisper, but it made his entire being rumble. His other hand gripped your hip and squeezed. “Sianna, I want to be involved with them, but I want to be in your life too, not just theirs. I want you to be in my life, not just as my children’s mother, but—more.”

 He heard your gulp, but you didn’t move. Your eyes looked unsure but your hand on his shoulder didn’t seem unsure. It moved higher to his neck and back to his jaw where you toyed with his beard.

 “What do you want? Do you want me involved, like really involved?”

 “Yes, Chad.”

 “Do you only want me in their lives? Do you want me in yours?”

 You bit your bottom lip and he couldn’t anymore.  He had to touch them. He quickly closed the gap between you and pressed his lips to yours. Neither of you moved, you just stayed there with your lips touching, it was as if you both were feeling it out. Your lips were the first to move against his and he reciprocated and softly kissed you. It began slow and exploratory but transitioned easily until the passion he’d always felt for you took over. He moaned onto your lips and you echoed the same moan as you latched your fingers behind his neck holding his head in place as you took over the kiss.

 You began rocking back and forth on his lap and he couldn’t help but grab your ass and squeeze. You bit his bottom lip and pulled back and groaned. “Fuck.”

 He smiled and made a move to kiss you again, but you pressed the tips of your fingers to his lips, stopping him.

 “Chad wait. Mmm.”

 “What’s wrong?”

 “Don’t you think this is too much?”

 “Too much?”

 “Yeah, the babies, and whatever is happening here between us. Don’t you think we should focus on one of those and make the babies a priority?”

 “Why can’t we do both?”

 “What if we rock the boat and fall out again and it jeopardizes your relationship with them or our ability to effectively co-parent.”

 He was hopeful before but with every word you spoke, that hope slowly faltered.

 “So—so you don’t want me?”

You didn’t look like you knew what you wanted. As soon as he recognized that disappointment filled him. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he’d blown it.

 “Chad—I just—I want to do the best for the babies. I don’t want to ruin things anymore.”

 “What if we don’t ruin anything Sianna? What if we finally give in to everything we’ve wanted since the day we met in Jamaica?”

 “It was sex--,” you began before he cut you off.

 “It was never about the sex and I’m convinced you know that by now. You have to.”

 He cupped your cheeks and swiped his thumb across your bottom lip.

 “I do want you Chad.” He smiled and pulled you closer.

 “Then let me have you, Sianna. Haven’t we wasted enough time?”

 “Sometimes we have to give up what we want to do what’s right—what’s best,” you theorized.

 He studied your face trying to figure out if you really meant that.

 “You don’t really mean that Sianna.”

 You looked down and rested your forehead against his. Your eyes closed and a few seconds later he felt the kicks of the babies against him. Neither of you moved for several long moments. When the kicks died down and all was silent and still again you sighed out.

 “I do mean it. You should go.”

 It was like a kick in the balls and a punch to the gut all at once. You lifted yourself off him and walked across the room leaving him to sit there for a little longer. After letting the words sink in, he stood and looked to you. Your back was turned to him as you stared out the window before you walked out of the room toward the front door. When he joined you in the foyer you had the door open. He nodded and walked out onto your front steps and stopped.

 “Sianna.” He turned to face you resolved in the conviction he felt for what he was about to say.

 “It doesn’t matter what happens between us. Nothing could ever come between me being there for them one hundred percent. Nothing could jeopardize my relationship with those babies, nothing.”

 Once the words were out, he walked away to his car and pulled out without looking back to you standing on the porch. He was filled with so many emotions he didn’t know which to focus on. One thing was paramount, he was going to be a father.   

~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~~~~~~~~

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#animal fic #Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman fanfiction #chadwick boseman smut #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chadwick boseman x black reader #slow burn fanfic #angst fanfic #black fanfiction

[drlissahawthorne]

A New Vision

Who: Clarissa Hawthorne

When:  Summer 2008 - Summer 2012

Where: nowhere specific 

What: Clarissa’s journey from the end of the Beijing games through the end of her career as an Olympic archer four years later in London.

Warnings: Abuse

Word Count: 1855

Notes: This is part 2 of 3. Part 1.

After gold in Beijing, Clarissa was riding a high. A high that she never wanted to end, but a high that couldn’t possibly last. Unfortunately, her eyes were going to get worse. And they were going to get worse, fast. She did her best to focus on college, to take everything one day at a time. Except sometimes one day turned into three or four days where her eyes just didn’t work. Where she couldn’t read her textbooks, where almost everything had to be read to her. Where she was lucky if she could even open her eyes without feeling like her head was going to explode.

Her roommate was her saving grace.

Jill was the kind of girl who would do anything for a laugh, but especially to make Clarissa laugh. She often considered the archer to be too stiff, too unwilling to be a young adult. Sure, she figured this had to do with how Clarissa was raised, how she’d been treated on the world stage, but it was something that could change. And it was something that Jill was going to make sure happened. Jill, in a lot of ways, just wanted to see Clarissa succeed in life. No matter what that might mean she’d have to do. Whether it was dragging Clarissa out to clubs to party or helping her adjust to life, Jill did it. When it came to Clarissa’s notes, classwork, and the like, Jill painstakingly recorded everything she could and read aloud what she couldn’t for when Clarissa’s eyes weren’t working. It was something Clarissa was beyond thankful for, and often tried to pay the other back, but was generally turned down at every turn. They were friends, that's what they did.

They worked together well and agreed to move into an off campus apartment their sophomore year. It gave them the liberty to live out in the city itself and pay way less than they had been on campus. It also gave them a headstart on helping Clarissa figure out bus routes without entirely relying on her sight to do so. Not that her eyesight was to that point, but it was good practice and a good deal of fun. They often tried to see if they could start at opposite ends of town and figure out the quickest bus route to a central point the fastest. Typically speaking, the central point was somewhere important, their apartment, the grocery store, their favorite restaurant. To most people it probably seemed weird, the way the pair worked, but they were just being themselves.

During that time Clarissa played hockey, helped support the rugby team, and continued to practice archery. Though, it became increasingly more obvious that things like hockey and archery, at least the act of participating in them, were going to come to an end. Sooner, rather than later. The prospect wasn’t new to Clarissa, but it also wasn’t something she was looking forward to. Or even really saw herself being able to accept. Jill tried, a number of times, to get Clarissa to start the process early. To start transitioning to a life where sports weren’t going to be as big a part of them as they were, but didn’t succeed in the slightest. If anything, the few times Jill pushed her to do such, Clarissa withdrew into herself. The denial was strong and, admittedly, Jill really couldn’t blame her.

Clarissa had a number of relationships during that time. Very few of them were good for her. In fact, many of them were very negative. People not wanting to deal with the way her eyesight could be a problem. The way she sometimes needed a little extra help on dates. How movie dates, or any dates that involved a lot of eye power in general, were fun but draining in a way that left her not really wanting to do much else. Or how her eyesight could get in the way of her even being able to go on a date. How things had to be planned out while still being open to canceling or extreme changes to accommodate her. Many of the relationships ended on very poor terms, Clarissa getting angry and breaking things off, or her partner getting frustrated over not wanting to deal with everything. Her sight was failing her, and it seemed like no one really wanted to put up with that. Not that this was something that surprised Clarissa, of course. It was the kind of thing that made her already strange reputation even worse. That just added to the way people avoided interacting with her if they could help it.

In the fall of 2010, Clarissa met Elias Westwood. He was a charismatic and charming guy, who genuinely seemed to want to know Clarissa for who she was. He was interested in her archery, her love of hockey, the things that made Clarissa, herself. Elias was a couple years older than her and she’d met him at a function on campus. They bonded over a love of video games and good music. He was a grad student and the way he looked at her made her feel special. Made her forget about the way her eyes ached and the looming reality that her time as an Olympic archer was coming to an end. He picked at her insecurities and promised to never hurt her the way other people had.

And he didn’t. He did so much worse.

The first clue that he was going to be nothing but bad news was also the first thing Clarissa chose to ignore. Hard to see red flags for what they are while wearing rose colored glasses. Whether Clarissa wanted to admit it at the time or not, Elias drove a wedge between Clarissa and Jill. The other girl warned Clarissa that he really wasn’t as great a guy as he seemed. That he was playing her like a fiddle. Clarissa refused to listen. Refused to see reason. He made her feel special and she hated the idea of there possibly being something wrong with that. Even as Elias slowly started to show his true colors. He started getting clingy, at first. Little things. Wanting to know when she’d be out of a class, where she was headed to after. Who she was spending time with. It wasn’t all the time, just every once in a while. He said he was worried about her getting hurt. She believed him.

However, his actions slowly amped up more and more. Getting accusatory whenever she gave him an answer. Swearing she was lying to him. He never went so far as to say she was cheating on him but he got close. Close enough that it started to strain her other relationships. Friendships she’d worked hard to cultivate despite distance. Friendships she’d made at college and wanted to explore for what they were, purely platonic and supportive relationships. Everytime Clarissa managed to talk him down from whatever imagined ledge he was on, Elias was amazing for a couple weeks. Apologized for freaking out, made up excuse after excuse that were less and less believable. And then he stopped even doing that. He started arguing with her over everything. The little details. Things that really shouldn’t have made any real difference. Then, once he got his way, he never mentioned it again, leaving Clarissa to wonder just what was happening. Even still, she refused to see it as the emotional abuse that it was. Refused to admit to anyone that there were days when she expected him to stop yelling and start using his fists. No one needed to know that.

The summer after Clarissa graduated with her bachelor’s degree, she found herself diving headfirst into work. She had a job that she loved and that she would be able to work around both her own disability and getting her doctorate in occupational therapy, as well as training for the 2012 Olympic games. This also kept her from seeing Elias as often, which, on some days felt like a life saver, while on others felt a bit like a death sentence. Even still, she found herself in love with everything she was doing and once the fall rolled around again, she was barely seeing Elias at all. He was constantly texting and calling her, but with everything going on, she didn’t have as much time for him. Something he’d, at one point, said he understood as it’d been something very similar, at times, with him getting his master’s.

In December of 2011, Elias’ temper rose to new heights. He became extremely possessive of her. Even managed to stop her from going into work a few times, making her lie to her boss as to the why. Until he was making her choose between their relationship and her work. The work that would establish a future for her after the summer of 2012. The work that had become her passion. And in a rather explosive fight, Clarissa chose her job.

A few days later, Jill took Clarissa to adopt her first cat, Haruhi.

With her focus back on her future instead of poor relationship choices, Clarissa started to prepare herself to announce her departure from Olympic archery after the London games. It was still massively terrifying, knowing that the one thing she’d been extremely good at her entire life was coming to an end even before she hit her mid twenties. But she had a new future and a new plan. 

It was her final interview of the 2012 Olympic games. She’d won gold but barely, something she hated to admit. Despite her sight having not only stabilized but improved quite a bit, a strange occurrence that no one could explain but that Clarissa was thankful for, in the year prior to the games, she had still struggled. A struggle that paid off, sure, but one she wished hadn’t existed.

“Future plans?” The interviewer was kind, already knowing that there were rumours floating around the Olympic Village about the young archer’s future in the sport.

“Finishing college and starting a proper career as an occupational therapist. As for archery, unfortunately, my time is up. I’ve been struggling with loss of sight since I was fifteen. The truth is, I’m surprised my eyesight was good enough to both qualify and compete in the games this year. I’m forever thankful for it, for the chances I’ve had to compete, to meet people, to stand on the world’s stage and show what I’m capable of. But, all good things must come to an end and, as sad as it is, this is the end of the road.” Clarissa did her best to smile through it, to let the look of pity on everyone’s faces not touch her. To roll off her back. Even as they stabbed to her very core.

And like that, Clarissa’s life as an archer had come to a close. She was ending on a high note, even if a bitter sweet one. Olympic gold in a town she’d once called home, for the country that still held her heart.

#abuse tw #[yes this is the same length as the first one] #p: self #p: s005 #p: all #about: every tears a diamond on my cheek #[decided to post this to clear it from my drafts there's still another part of this and a bunch of others I'm going to write]

[trashinaglass-archive]

Little Bug

Harry and y/n get pregnant at a young age

Request: Hello! Can you possibly write a Harry imagine where him and the reader have been dating for many years and he gets her pregnant by accident and they kinda freak out cause they are only 20, so they have to tell Harry’s family (cause the reader isn’t close with hers) and at first they are disappointed but of course are supportive. Also maybe a flash forward to when the baby is there and everyone spoiling it! Thank youuu

A/n: Not gonna lie, when I first read this I thought you meant Harry Styles, and I was like why would his family be disappointed cause he’s like 25? But I get it now, I gotcha. Harry Holland boy, he we go.

Four years.

If someone asked you, that was a pretty long time to be with one person. Sure, it was nothing compared to adults who had been married for thirty plus years, but as a young kid, it was a big deal to you.

You couldn’t hold back your squeal of excitement as the doorbell rang, running to the door.

“Hey,” Harry laughed as you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly.

“Happy four years,” you smiled at him.

“And happy anniversary,” he replied, a smile masking your own as he placed a kiss to your lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

. . .

You held Harry’s hand in yours as you walked into the movie theater, moving to stand in the concessions line. The smell of the popcorn hit you hard, an instant wave of nausea rolling through your body. Your jaw clinched as you felt the uneasy feeling in your stomach increase.

“‘Scuse me,” you said quickly as you ran to the bathroom, anything that was in your stomach making an appearance in the toilet. You leaned your head onto your hands as you sat back, lightheaded and drained of all energy you had earlier.

“Y/n?” You heard an unfamiliar voice ask, a gentle hand touching your back. “You’re boyfriend asked me to check on you. Are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” you said softly, thinking about what just happened as the nausea began to fade. “It was like the smell of the popcorn made me sick.”

“I don’t mean to pry or be rude,” the lady began. “But have you two had sex recently?” Your heart stopped at the suggestion, understanding what she was hinting at. “When I was pregnant, certain smells made me sick too.”

“I can’t be,” you whispered, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I would check,” she suggested gently before rummaging through her purse. “Here’s some gum. Do you need help with anything?”

You shook your head as you chewed the gum, welcoming the minty taste. You tried to process the idea of you possibly being pregnant, it was crazy.

You eventually stood up, making your way outside where you found a very concerned boyfriend.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked as he saw you.

“The popcorn smell is making me sick,” you told him. “Can you take me to a shop and then we can hang at your place?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Are you okay?”

“As soon as I’m out of here, I’ll be fine,” you told him, nodding your head.

He nodded back, taking your hand and leaving the theater. He stopped at a drugstore, unbuckling his seat belt about the get out. “Can you wait in here while I go in? Please?” You requested.

“Why?” He asked confused.

“Just- please,” you pleaded. He let out a breath, closing his door and watched as you went in the store by yourself. You bought three pregnancy tests along with some ginger ale and candies to cover what you actually bought, asking the cashier to double bag it. You sat back in the car, “ready?” You smiled softly, Harry reciprocating before driving back to his home.

. . .

“What happened?” Dominic asked as you two walked through the door. “Surely the movie isn’t over yet.”

“Yeah, um,” Harry began looking at you unsure if he was suppose to tell them or not. You shrugged motioning that you didn’t care. “Y/n fell sick at the theater so we’re just going to hang here.”

“You alright, darling?” Nikki asked you. You nodded, not really wanting to say anything. “If you need anything, let me know.” She smiled at you, and you felt a little better knowing she cared.

“Yes ma’am,” you replied softly before making your way upstairs, going straight to the bathroom.

“Sick again?” Harry asked as you closed the door.

“Maybe? I don’t know,” you told him. “It might just be another wave of nausea. I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done.” You listened for him to walk away before opening anything.

“Okay. Call if you need anything.”

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, hearing his footsteps walk away, opening a door, and the springs of his bed as he sat on it. You opened the boxes as quickly and quietly as you could, peeing on them and waiting the three minutes. It felt like literal hell waiting for that long. After the time passed, you looked at the tests.

Six bold pink lines.

Three positive tests.

You closed your eyes as you sank to the floor, your head resting on your knees as you tried not to freak out. Tears began to well in your eyes, spilling over the edge as you couldn’t hold them back. You looked up as the bathroom door opened.

“Oh! Sorry! Um,” Paddy stumbled before he realized something wasn’t right, running to Harry’s room to get him. Your eyes squeezed tighter as you heard him approach you.

“Hey- what’s wrong, love?” Harry asked as he crouched in front of you, hands holding the sides of your face, brushing the tears from your eyes.

“Could it be these?” Paddy asked as he noticed the tests on the sink counter. You could hear the uncertainty in his voice- he didn’t know where you stood emotionally and didn’t want to hurt you more than you already looked.

Harry stood up looking at the tests as he took one in his hand, studying it over. “You just took these?” He asked for clarification. You only nodded in response. He sighed, rubbing over his eyes as he tried to process this information. In nine short months, he was going to be a dad.

“Are you going to leave me now?” You asked him, fear obvious in your voice. He looked at you, tears in his own eyes as he reached his hands out to you. He pulled you to your feet, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m with you for the long run, baby doll,” he said, placing a kiss to the top of your head. Hearing his words, you squeezed him tighter, tears rolling out of your eyes faster. You hadn’t mentioned it, but you knew what would happen when you got home. Your parents weren’t the best, and they weren’t going to have a pregnant girl or her kid in their house. You needed him more than he knew.

“Do we tell them now?” He asked you after you both calmed down, knowing both of your parents needed to know. You nodded, unsure of what else you would do with the new information. Harry guided you downstairs, a hand on your back as you wiped your face, hoping you didn’t look too messed up. Your nerves shot through the roof as you saw the two parents come into view. “Mum? Dad?”

“What’s wrong?” Nikki asked as she saw your faces, probably looking utterly terrified.

“Um,” Harry started, unsure how to say it. He gestured for you to sit on the chair across from his parents, leaning against the armrest beside you. “You know y/n was sick, and I thought it was just a bug or something, but it’s not a bug. Definitely not a bug. Unless you think it’s cute to call it a bug,” he began to ramble, but you interrupted him.

“I’m pregnant,” you said softly. Nikki and Dom’s eye widened at your admission.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“You’re sure?” Nikki asked, needing the clarification.

“I have three bold yes’s in the bathroom. It’s no sonogram, but what are the chances that three tests will show up that bold falsely?”

“Not much,” Nikki nodded, letting out a sigh. “First thing tomorrow, you need to make an appointment with your doctor.” You nodded your head, showing you understand.

“So you guys aren’t mad?” Harry asked nervously.

“We’re certainly not happy about it, but the deed is done. Another life is involved, and the best we can do is make sure it gets the best care possible,” Dom nodded.

“Have you mentioned it to your parents yet?” Nikki asked, still fixated on you.

“No. I just found out literally, what, fifteen minutes ago?”

“Are they going to be okay with it?” She asked carefully, knowing the troubles you’d been through with them. You shook your head, not looking her in the eye.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they kick me out,” you shrugged, Harry’s hand reaching out to rub your back.

“Well if that happens, you pack your stuff and come here. We’ll take care of you,” Dom assured you.

“Thank you,” you replied with a small smile.

. . .

Like you predicted, after telling your parents of the pregnancy, they kicked you out. Wishing you good luck with the future, they no longer wanted to be apart of it. But that’s okay- the Holland family were the perfect replacement. The place where you and your baby belonged.

The baby arrived after the months passed, a little boy named Tristan Robert Holland. He was born a few weeks early, but he was the most perfect being you had ever laid eyes on. The trials and pain were worth going through to be able to hold your gorgeous boy in your arms.

“Look at that precious bug,” you said in a higher pitched voice, leaning over to planting kisses all over Tristan’s face. He squealed out a laugh. A perfect laugh you’d come to obsess over.

“And wouldn’t he be more precious with this amazing Spider-Man onesie?” Tom asked as he appeared with said onesie. You couldn’t hold back the laugh as Harry let out a scoff. “What? He’s my nephew. I can spoil him with Spider-Man goodies if I want to.”

“I don’t really care what onesie he wears, but look at this bear I found,” Sam chimed in, holding up a teddy bear that was holding onto a golf club. “Definitely going to be on my team.”

“Whatever, mate. He’s my son- of course he’ll want to be on my team,” Harry fought back causing a bicker over whose golf team the baby would be on.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you listened to them looking down at Tristan with a smile on your face. “You’re more well behaved than all of them, aren’t you?” You cooed, Tristan laughing back. “You are!”

“Shut up, y/n,” Harry laughed, sitting next to you. “It’s called living with siblings.”

“Which he won’t have for a long, long time,” you said, the little boy laughing with no idea what you were talking about.

“I don’t know, I think we could do that again,” he joked as he took Tristan in his arms, the baby bouncing on his lap. “I’ll carry the baby this time.”

“Will you?” You laughed, Harry nodding his head yes. “We can probably arrange that then.”

“You guys are fucking weird,” Paddy commented as he walked past you to the kitchen, making you and Harry laugh. You shrugged, it wasn’t exactly untrue.

Taglist: @lucychg @yourwonderbelle @rageyoudamnednerd @maliburumofficial @cutiepiemimi13 @happywolves81 @lifeandloveandhappiness @madeinthemidnightmemories @castellandiangelo @meaganjm @spnobsessedmemes @h-oneyholland @babylsn @harrydesires @xxtomxo @lizzyclifford13-blog @green-lxght @zabdisamor @takemetooneverlanddd @rororo06 @carat1uv @delicately-important-trash @thegirlwithpaperheart (add yourself here)

#harry holland #harry holland imagine #harry holland x reader #harry holland blurb #harry holland one shot #tom holland imagine

[timeagainreviews]

A Very Special Doctor Who

The title of last night's episode "Can You Hear Me?" was a bit of a misnomer, or rather, a misdirect. In the tradition of Doctor Who names, I expected it to have more to do with the function of a creature. Something like "Don't blink!" or "You've got two shadows." Instead, it acts more as a reference to representation. Can you hear my calls for help? Can you see the signs of poor mental health? In many ways, tonight's episode was merely a vessel to deliver a message than the story itself. But was that to its detriment? Let’s get into it, shall we?

The episode opens on Aleppo, Syria in 1380. An interesting choice considering the history of the Crusaders. But they never once touch on the subject, they instead lean toward a simple monster invasion. It's not exactly certain why Aleppo was even necessary other than the fact that it looks really cool on-screen. It never really plays into the storyline other than being another location for the story to take place. I am guessing that writer Charlene James has some sort of personal history with the location. Perhaps she studied it and wanted to incorporate it into Doctor Who someday. Considering this is her first Doctor Who, that seems likely.

Tahira, a young Syrian girl is running from the authorities. Evidently, she's some sort of adventurous klepto like Winona Ryder. She leaves the safety of the centre of the city to steal things for the thrill of it. If you don't remember this, don't fret, it has little to no bearing on the greater story other than informing us that she's a bit bored and looking for adventure. Her friend Maryam scolds her and they speak of monsters, in which Maryam does not believe. Later that night, we're visited by these monsters who take everyone but Tahira. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it's still early on. My biggest bit of excitement came from the fact that the hand we see over Maryam's face was not the Slitheen. Having seen them in the trailer last week, that's who I was expecting them to be. You have to admit, their hands were very similar!

The Doctor drops all of her companions off so they can go touch base with their home lives. Yaz sees her sister, who seems a bit worried about her. Ryan reconnects with his mate Tibo. And Graham plays cards with the boys from the bus depot. I was happy to see the continuity of Gabriel returning as Graham's mate. That was a nice touch. Over the course of their revisiting their friends, we learn that things have been a bit off. People have been having nightmares. Tibo seems to have locked himself away in his flat and complains that at night he's visited by a bald man with tattoos on his head. Luckily, his mate Ryan has been travelling with the Doctor, which means that instead of being laughed at, he's taken seriously. On top of that, the trio of companions are also given visions of the tattooed man. Except for Graham who sees a woman with Storm from X-Men vibes trapped between two planets. That night, Tibo is once again visited by the dream man, whose fingers detach and enter his ear. I don't know why all five fingers detached as he only needed one. Ryan witnesses this just as the dream man and Tibo disappear.

The Doctor is also visited by this bald dream man which gives her something to do while dealing with the boredom of being away from her mates. The Doctor's own mental health has been a subject of discussion lately and it's apparent here as well. As she follows the intruder back to ancient Aleppo, she doesn't bat an eye at the fact that it appears to be ransacked. She's in her element. This is her bread and butter! The Doctor finds Tahira who alerts her to the presence of the monsters, as one is still present, hanging from the ceiling in a very creepy fashion. The make haste and give chase back to the safety of the TARDIS, but not before the Doctor finds a sample of the beast's fur. Strangely, the sonic picks up nothing. That's twice now in series twelve that the Doctor's sonic picks up no readings.

The Doctor picks up her companions where they've followed the source of Graham's vision back to a spaceship looking a lot like a Borg cube. The interior was like when you see a night club in the daytime. It's a bit weird. Also, there seems to be a network of fingers. Within this ship, they discover the bald man who calls himself Zellin. Apparently, he's some sort of Godlike immortal. For the classic Who fans, this was a treat as they name-dropped not one, but three different immortal species- the Guardians, the Eternals, and the Toymaker. I was especially excited over the Eternals, as "Enlightenment," is my favourite Fifth Doctor story.

The Doctor and her friends help release the woman from between the two planets, who turns out to be an immortal named Rakaya. It turns out to be a trick, as Zellin is unable to break her out of the prison himself. Through an unusually helpful bit of exposition, Rakaya recounts their story to the Doctor in a beautiful sequence of animation. I really loved the art direction of this scene as it was something you don't often see in Doctor Who. It was a nice way of illustrating what could easily have been something boring. Kudos to the production team for trying something new.

According to Rakaya, her and Zellin were both like gods, born into the universe and bored by their immortality. In order to entertain themselves, they pitted two planets against one another. But after a while, both species on each planet grew wise as to the nature of these gods and rebelled. They built a prison between their planets and trapped Rakaya there as punishment. I suppose they were done with their planets and decided they didn't need them anymore. I mean, after all, planets are a dime a dozen, right? The whole explanation is a bit hand-wavy, as is usual with god-like beings. The mythology trumps common sense. Zellin then set about using Rakaya's technology to free her while keeping her sane by feeding her nightmares he sourced from humans with his little flying fingers.

Having locked the Doctor and her companions up, they set about causing mayhem on their new favourite planet- Earth. Naturally, this being Doctor Who, they land in England. Meanwhile, the Doctor and her companions are kept as prisoners aboard Rakaya's ship, locked up and having dreams harvested from their minds. Ryan dreams of the Earth's destruction and sees the Dregs from Orphan 55 again. He sees Tibo as an old man. Just one more person he's failed. Graham dreams his cancer is back, complete with a vision of his lost love Grace. Yaz's vision is a bit more abstract as we see her sitting on the side of a stretch of country road while a policewoman looks on from a distance. And the Doctor's dream was a further glimpse into who I believe is probably the Timeless Child. Though we get about as much elucidation on that concept as we have in previous episodes. The only difference here is that we see the same shot for a few more seconds. Nothing new or surprising there. Clearly, that's series finale stuff.

What comes next is an absolute load of rubbish. The Doctor awakens from her dream, just because. After bumping her hip against her sonic, it flies up out of her pocket absolutely defying the laws of physics. For a second there, I wondered if she wasn't hanging upside down as that's the only explanation I could come up with for how the sonic was able to magically fly directly into her hands. While it doesn't ruin the episode, it was easily the worst moment. They don't even try and make it look believable. I'm not even sure they could have made it look believable. Had she dropped it, and then kicked it up into her hands, I could have maybe believed it. There's suspension of disbelief, and then there's just being stupid. In fairness, I'd be lying if I said this was anything new for Doctor Who. Who can forget Tom Baker's Fourth Doctor screaming at such a high pitch that it breaks a pane of glass to make an escape? That being said, it was still very bad.

Having escaped, the Doctor locks Rakaya and Zellin back into the planet prison. However, now they're joined by one of the beasties from Syria, which happen to be from Tahira's nightmares, hence why they never attacked her. The Doctor returns the ship's captive Syrians and Tibo. At this point, the episode still has a good ten or fifteen minutes left, but the threat has been completely neutralised. Or has it? Well, as it turns out, Zellin and Rakaya were not the biggest baddies this week. Instead, that illustrious title goes to none other than mental health issues! That's right, it's an awareness episode! This is why the entire story was so hand-wavy- it's just an excuse to talk about mental health!

I wouldn't say it was exactly shoehorned in, but it definitely was not subtle. Ryan talks Tibo into getting professional help for his issues. This one made the least sense to me because they gave literally zero indication that Tibo needed group therapy. Sure, he was locking his place like Fort Knox and becoming a recluse, but he was quite literally being visited by an all-powerful ancient evil. You get rid of the ancient evil and suddenly, his biggest problems are gone. Instead, it's inferred that Ryan just knows his friend well enough to say "Hey buddy, you need some help." Which is fine I guess, but they in no way illustrated this throughout the episode. Even Tibo's standoffishness toward Ryan could be explained by the fact that Ryan had not been returning his texts. And considering that by the end of the episode, he now knows Ryan has been travelling with the Doctor, even that issue is resolved.

Graham's own fears make far more sense as cancer was a very real part of his life. Of course, he's afraid of his cancer recurring. I did really love the conversation he has with the Doctor as she offers very little comfort. Watching the Doctor awkwardly meander away was funny, but also somewhat confusing. I found it a bit weird that the Doctor listened to Graham talk about cancer without mentioning that she probably has the cure to cancer in gum form or something. She doesn't need to say anything comforting when she can say- "Sure Graham, let's just go to Medicalus 9, the hospital planet! You'll never worry about cancer ever again!" If the Doctor can't cure cancer, then it's like Amy Pond said- "...what is the point of you?"

Yaz's story is easily the most welcome, as it offers up some much-needed backstory with her. We learn that Yaz had a hard time with bullies in school. After deciding to run away, he sister Sonya sends the police to find her. This is why Yaz's nightmare shows her on the side of a country road with a policewoman in the distance. Yaz's fear is that she will get to a point where she is unable to cope and needs to run away. Perhaps an even deeper fear is that her travels with the Doctor are one more form of running away. We learn why Yaz may have been inspired to become a policewoman herself, as the interaction between these two is a positive one. The policewoman makes a bet with her that in three years if things aren't better, she'll pay her £50, but if they are, Yaz owes her 50p. Remembering this bet, Yaz returns to give the woman her 50p, which you'll note was not a Brexit commemorative coin. Thank Zellin.

And that was it, really. There wasn't a lot of meat to this episode. The baddies were dealt with quickly, and the plot resolved before things were even over. Was I mad about this? Not hardly. In fact, I applaud the show for taking the time to talk about mental health. It was clearly the driving force behind the episode and I don't mind at all. Using the concept of bad dreams to represent bad thoughts made a lot of sense in context with the show. Even if the story was devised as a means to deliver a message, it was still a pretty entertaining story. I've always had a soft spot for the immortal baddies of Doctor Who, so adding two more in was a treat. I had even begun wondering if Zellin wasn't the black guardian pretty early on, so clearly they had done a good job paying homage.

The BBC even took the time to drop a hotline at the end of the story, which I thought was a nice touch. It's no lie that due to the current political and social climate of the world these days, mental health is at an all-time low. A friend of mine who is in school for counselling messaged me after the episode, ecstatic that they were addressing these issues, and I have to agree. Doctor Who spans a rather large audience, and it's good to see them trying to take that responsibility seriously. Where I've questioned the show's capacity to address bigger issues, it seems as though they've found a bit of a sweet spot with series twelve, give or take. Keep the messages broad and incorporate them into the story. If "Can You Hear Me?" caused even one person to reach out for help last night, then it's done its job well.

#doctor who #can you hear me #thirteenth doctor #Jodie Whittaker #yaz #yasmine khan #mandip gill #Ryan Sinclair #tosin cole #Graham O'Brien #Bradley Walsh #rakaya #immortals #mental health #bbc #tardis #Time and Time Again #zellin #charlene james

[winterune]

If Only

A Persona 5 Fanfiction

Late post for Day 1 of Daybreakers 2020 by @p5daybreak

Character: Ren Amamiya/Protagonist - Prompt: Origin

Word count: 1754

A/N: a little headcanon of mine. Again, sorry for the late post!

~*~*~*~*~

They were at it again—his parents. Fighting. Screaming. He could still hear it, even when he had put his headphones on and blasted music into his ear, trying and failing to study whatever it was he was supposed to study. The lines were blurring. He was tired. Maybe he should stop. He already had cram school. His homework was finished. There were no tests whatsoever for the coming month or so. And yet…

Ren would rather not have his father open that door and find him “slacking off”, as his father would say. Because no, not even Ren being a top scorer was enough for him.

The little stunt he had pulled back in middle school didn’t help. OK, yes, it did help him gain his father’s attention. The first place Ren had maintained all throughout his three years of middle school had suddenly dropped, and Ren had to admit that it had been his first time seeing his father truly angry. On one hand, Ren had felt some sort of achievement that he had managed to make his father actually look at him. On another hand, his cheek still smarted sometimes from the ghost of an impact his father’s hand had made with it.

The screaming from downstairs intensified. Ren’s fingers stilled and he shut his eyes. They had been going at it for a while now. Either it was the work, the house, or the family. Mostly the family—his mother’s family, his father’s family, this family. It wouldn’t be the first time to hear his father blaming his mother for whatever it was he thought Ren was lacking. Not that Ren hadn’t done everything he could think of to prove himself to his father that he wasn’t a failure: perfect test scores, top place at school, a teacher’s pet. He had even skipped out on several school events because his father had said they were a waste of time. His father had even gotten him out of the club he had been in middle school—that, or he would have gotten the club disbanded because Ren’s grades had dropped, which, really, hadn’t been the club’s fault at all.

Ren heard something shattering.

His eyes flew open. Taking his headphones off, Ren rushed out his room then down the stairs.

“Mom?” he called, alarmed.

He wouldn’t usually do this. He would never have interrupted them in the middle of their fight. Most of the time, when the fighting got too intense, he would just quietly go outside, find somewhere he could stay for a while—usually the park—have a drink he’d bought at a store or just sit down on the bench or the swings. Then, after some time had passed and he knew the fighting had to have ended, he would go back inside the house and find his mother sitting in the living room, staring vacantly ahead. Her body would jerk to attention when she heard the door close, and she would look up, and Ren would see this utter defeated, anguished look on her face—one she would always try to hide behind a smile. No matter what she was feeling, she would always smile in front of him, and it always hurt him seeing her like that.

Just once—just once he wanted to stand up against his father and tell him to leave his mother alone. Because no, it wasn’t her fault that Ren got bad grades. It wasn’t her fault that Ren could never live up to his expectations. It wasn’t her fault that he was stuck as some local government assembly with no chances of ever winning an election, because there would always be someone better than him.

He found his mother in the kitchen, her hand bleeding. Shards of glass were scattered around the floor. His father was just standing there, still in his suit, having just gotten home.

“Mom!” he shouted, aghast at what he saw.

“Careful, Ren!”

He was being careful as he rushed toward her. His mother needn’t worry about him. She’s the one who was hurt; several pieces of the shards had gotten stuck to her hand.

Gingerly holding her hand steady, Ren led his mother to the sink, where he carefully washed away the shards from the wound. They weren’t deep, not from his vantage point at least. But, just to be sure—

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” he said.

But his mother was already shaking her head, as though she had already read his mind. “It’s just a little cut.”

Ren tightened his grip on her hand. “Please, mom,” he begged. Please let me do this. Just this once. Let me help you.

Ren wondered if his unsaid pleas reached her. Maybe it did, because whatever she saw in his eyes finally made her relent, and she sighed and nodded. Ren beamed, then turned his attention to his father, who was still scowling by the doorway. He gritted his teeth and set his jaws, staring hard at his father’s eyes. If he wasn’t going to take them, then Ren would find other ways.

However, his father sighed, as loud as he could, through his nose. “I’ll get the keys,” was all he said before turning around and disappearing through the doorway.

***

There hadn’t been anything to worry about, the doctor said. It was only a little cut. His mother gave him that look that basically said, I told you so. She had had basic medical teaching growing up, what’s with her family owning a large hospital in the city. Maybe Ren should have listened to her, but he knew that wouldn’t ease the guilt he always felt whenever he looked at her. At least now, he had done something.

His father didn’t say anything—didn’t even offer an apology. The car was quiet to-and-fro the hospital, the air so thick he could have cut it with a knife. Even when they reached their home, his father still didn’t utter a single word. Ren watched silently as his father entered the house without looking back—those broad shoulders of his still an imposing sight, even when Ren was already fifteen, going on sixteen, and had gotten taller than his mother.

Ren stood in front of the house, finding himself curling his fingers into fists, glaring at the now-empty doorway

Why didn’t his father say anything?! He thought. He hasn’t even said sorry! Isn’t that what people normally do when they’ve hurt someone?! Apologize?!

“Ren,” his mother’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. She was standing in the doorway, looking at him. “Let’s get inside,” she said. “It’s cold out.”

It was cold, but the coldness he felt was more than just the late autumn air prickling his bones. This house—this…prison. Would it be possible to take his mother away and leave it? He would rather not leave her alone with that sociopath.

“Ren,” his mother softly called him again.

Ren took a deep breath, trying to soothe that bubbling anger. He slowly uncurled his fingers and followed his mother inside.

His mother led him to the kitchen, where Ren stopped her from cleaning up the shattered glass and told her to sit. “I’ll do it,” he said. It was the least he could do for her. So, he quietly grabbed the broom and a dustpan from the storage and began sweeping the glass shards quietly.

“Do you want something to drink?” his mother asked, trying to break the silence.

“I’m all right,” Ren replied. Then he looked up. “Do you want to, mom? I’ll make you something.”

That elicited a small chuckle from his mother. “I can still move, Ren. I’m not an invalid.”

Ren paused. “I didn’t—”

His mother laughed again. “Finish that up, then we’ll have a drink together.”

Ren pursed his lips but forced himself to nod. He finished sweeping the glass shards, then threw everything in the trash can, returning the broom and dustpan to its place, before joining his mother at the kitchen counter, where she was making both of them hot chocolate.

Ren took a seat by the counter and quietly sipped at his drink. Several silent moments passed before his mother finally spoke, and it wasn’t about anything at all. She talked about the weather, how it was too cold for autumn, even though winter was still over a month away. She asked about his school and the cultural festival they just held. She talked about the charity events she was going to hold or the flowers she would need for her flower arranging activities.

Ren watched at how animated his mother looked as she talked, as though the fight with his father hadn’t happened and her hand wasn’t full of small cuts. How do you do it, he wanted to ask, feeling his anger start to rear its head again. How do you endure this?

His parents had been living together for over sixteen years, and ever since he could remember, seeing or hearing them fight was just an everyday thing. It had gotten to the point where Ren would wonder if either his mother or father would just up and leave him one day. But they never did. They stayed together for reasons he could never comprehend.

Ren stared at his mother’s bandaged hand—a clean white gauze circling the parts that were cut. Shallow cuts, the doctor had said. Nothing to worry about. His mother had told him that she had broken a glass when she was doing the dishes. Of course he hadn’t understood that it was something to worry about. He didn’t know that it was Ren’s father who had thrown the glass at her. Her delicate hand that she used to arrange beautiful flowers in her studio, the one that could wipe away any tear or sadness he had ever felt—it was cut and bleeding and Ren hadn’t done anything to stop it.

He curled his fingers around his glass and gritted his teeth as tears blurred his vision. If only he were stronger—

“Ren.” His mother’s soft voice interrupted his train of thoughts. Her warm hands were on his. He slowly looked up and the small smile on his mother’s face made his fingers twitch painfully, his heart clenching tight.

She didn’t need any words. He knew what she was trying to say. It’s not your fault.

But she was wrong. If Ren were stronger, and kinder, and braver, he might have been able to protect her from his father.

~ END ~

#daybreak2020 #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #daybreakprotagonistweek1 #persona #persona 5 #p5 #fanfiction #persona fanfic #p5 fanfic #my story #my fanfiction