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kaimelia · 3 years

Text

Here Alone

a/n: hi! this is awfully sad and for that, I apologize...but I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you like reading it!

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Amelia woke up with a feeling. Some sort of pit in her stomach, a feeling that she didn't want to get out of bed so she could avoid something.

She rolled over and pulled the comforter over her head, groaning loudly when her husband pushed open the door with a mug of her favorite tea in hand. Link had smiled and chuckled at her when she told him and grabbed her hand, pulling her into a sitting position and kissing her lips. He persuaded her to leave the bed and led her into the kitchen, where Scout was happily eating blueberry pancakes and their daughter twirling around in her favorite purple sundress. Amelia left in a hurry with Charlotte in her arms, quickly kissing her husband goodbye. She changed into scrubs to find a note from Link in her locker, "You're amazing. You're going to rock this surgery. I love you," he had written, a messy scrawl on one of the note papers they'd stick in Scout's lunch box. She grinned and placed it in her purse, locking it away in her cubby.

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Surgery was going well until the nurses started to whisper among themselves. The pit in Amelia's stomach from the morning returned, and she asked if they had anything to share. Silence filled the O.R., and Amelia shook her head, attempting to ignore it. She sighed audibly after finishing the ten-hour surgery, grateful her patient had made it through without any real complications, ready to find her husband and convince him into giving her a foot massage and to order takeout for dinner. The grin on her face fell once she walked into the scrub room to see Jo nervously wringing her fingers. "What happened?" Amelia asked, hiding her shaking hands under the stream of water in the sink.

"It's Link."

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She felt like she was moving in slow motion. People walked in and out of the attendings' lounge, some acknowledging her and others not. Meredith walked in and wrapped her arm around Amelia. "He'll be okay," she whispered, hugging her sister tightly.

"I had a feeling when I woke up. That something bad would happen today, but Link told me everything would be fine," the neurosurgeon laughed out, tears welling in her eyes the more she spoke. "Everything's not fine."

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She knew it before anyone said it. Owen walked into the lounge; his hands clasped together politely. "We did everything we could," he began but stopped as soon as Amelia let out a loud sob. Her hand moved to cover her open mouth, her chin quivering and her body falling forward before Meredith reached an arm under her and pulled her up. She had no idea how much time passed until the other surgeons left in a blur of colors and absurdly loud noise and until Maggie ran into the lounge, joining her sisters in a hug.

"Amelia, you should go say goodbye," Maggie whispered, brushing her sister's hair down in delicate patterns with her hand. "You can go see him."

"I don't think I can," she cried, standing up suddenly to run to the toilet. The sounds of heaving filled the small bathroom, and Meredith cringed, grabbing Amelia's hair back.

"We'll come with you. You'll regret it if you don't go to see him," Meredith helped her to stand, steadying her with a strong arm around her waist. They slowly trudged through the hospital's hallways and past the O.R. board, causing Amelia to let out another sob as she recognized the place they met.

Her feet stopped in the scrub room as she glanced through the glass pane, seeing the sheet covering the figure of the man she loved. Her hand reached for the chain around her neck, pulling her wedding band out and fiddling with it. Maggie placed a hand on her back, helping to push her towards the bed. "We'll be right here, Amelia," she comforted, watching as Amelia walked into the room.

The neurosurgeon sat down, pulling a stool over to the side of the bed. She grasped the edge of the sheet covering the body and slowly lifted it to reveal a familiar face missing the childish grin she'd loved for so long. A sob choked in her throat, and she gasped loudly, covering her heart with her hand as the other brushed through his long blonde hair he'd meant to get cut. "Link," she whispered, tracing her fingers down the side of his face, under his jawline, and back up to his eyelids. She yearned to see his blue eyes and the life they always held; the joy, calm, and the future she'd always looked into. "Oh my god," she wailed, a tear dripping onto the sheet covering his chest. Amelia laid her head down gently, sobbing as her ears searched for the beating of his heart fell asleep to each night, only to hear nothing, now.

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She woke up in a hospital room, cringing at the loud beeping of a heart monitor beside her. Her eyes fell to the weight against her arm, seeing her daughter curled into her body, contently making the soft snores she always did. "Hey," Meredith whispered, standing up from the couch in the dark room. "You passed out. Fell to the ground, and Maggie and I had to bring you here." She reached out for Amelia's hand and held it. "Koracick is gonna come by and give you a neuro check; you hit your head when you fell."

"Is it real?" Meredith raised her eyebrows in question. "Is he really gone?" She nodded, holding her sister's hand tighter as she cried.

"I'm so sorry, Amelia." The little girl's head lifted up at the sound of her mother's sobs, and Amelia looked to Meredith as if to ask if Charlotte knew. Meredith shook her head.

"Mommy?" Charlotte asked. "Why are you crying?" Amelia reached out to brush a stray piece of her daughter's blonde hair back, running her hand down the french braid Link had made for her this morning. She bit her lip as her fingers touched the pink rubber band holding the braid together, knowing that Link's hands had touched the same band just hours earlier.

He'd learned to braid as soon as they found out they were having a baby girl, practicing on almost any woman who would let him touch her hair. Soon, everyone in their family circle was wearing braids and paging Link whenever they wanted their hair braided to fit under a scrub cap.

"Mommy's just not feeling very well right now, Char," Meredith interrupted, dropping Amelia's hand and pulling her from her thoughts. "Let's get you back to daycare, okay?" The mother watched as her daughter waved goodbye, whispering a soft "Bye, mommy," before she was carried out of the room. Her gaze drifted to her hand, which had subconsciously grabbed her necklace and had been toying with her ring for some time, something she often did when she felt anxious. She unclipped the chain, holding it out in front of her eyes. Her eyes traced the engraved letters on the inside of the band, reading, "Till death do us part," a line they had chosen almost jokingly when picking out rings. She had made a sarcastic comment about how he likely wouldn't have to put up with her forever, as everyone around her died. Link had grinned and embraced her, whispering into her ear, "Till death do us part." Now, the line and memory felt like some twisted irony.

Amelia dropped the chain onto the table beside her and turned over, her body leaning backward as if she was expecting Link's firm chest to be behind her to lay against. She let out a shaky breath, adjusting the pillow under her head and closing her eyes tightly. "This is just a nightmare," she whispered. "Just a nightmare."

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People passed in and out of the hospital room, yet Amelia just stared blankly at the hospital wall. Teddy had visited and told her something about her own husband, who died under similar circumstances. Tom had stopped in to examine her, and she silently complied, not even hearing what he said after. Jo came in and sobbed out some story about when Link was planning to propose, which Amelia assumed was meant to comfort her, but she couldn't process what Jo was saying. Even Nico came by and dropped Link's wedding band on the table next to Amelia's necklace, letting her know that he had retrieved it for her before they took his body away. She appreciated it; he didn't try to tell her everything would be okay, give her some bittersweet story about Link, or mutter that he was sorry for her loss. "Can you stay?" She asked Nico as he moved to leave. "Just sit in here with me for a bit," her chin quivered, and Nico proceeded to sit on the couch. "How long has it been?"

"Seven hours and thirty-four minutes," he responded, the number coming out immediately. "I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I'm sleepwalking." Amelia nodded her head in agreement, the tiniest smile creeping onto her lips.

"How long do you think I'm allowed to stay in this room and hide from everything?" Nico leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. "I'm just hoping that Meredith and Maggie are handling the kids. Not really being a good mother right now," she confessed, wiping her watery eyes.

"You get as long as you need. I'm sure they've got it figured out."

"I'm dreading seeing them. As terrible as that sounds," she shook her head. "Scout looks just like him. I already sobbed when I saw Charlotte's hair because he braided it this morning."

"Do they know yet?"

"No, I think Meredith is waiting for me to tell them." Amelia took a shaky breath. "I don't think I can do it. Raise them alone."

"You're not alone, Amelia." Her name sounded odd coming from his mouth; he'd almost exclusively referred to her as 'Shepherd' prior to this moment. She almost laughed at the sound of it. "I know we haven't ever been close or anything, but whatever I can do," he whispered.

"Thank you." She held her hand out, and Nico took it, letting his tears fall after she squeezed his hand lightly. "Thank you," she sniffled, beginning to cry again.

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Meredith pushed open the door and pulled the key out, holding it open for Amelia. The brunette gasped at the sight of their home, a nearly spotless house that definitely didn't look like that the day before. She assumed someone had stopped by and picked up as a courtesy, leaving a pile of his belongings on the table in the dining room. She walked towards the table and picked up his I.D. badge, staring at the photo from the past year.

Bailey had insisted on new badge photos for everyone after seeing quite a few images that no longer resembled the badge's owner, complaining about how nothing ever ran smoothly in the hospital. The day of the pictures was on Charlotte's third birthday, the same time that she had a stomach bug. They'd almost missed the takes and didn't have time to change out of their clothes. Amelia knew that right out of the view of the camera was a trace of vomit that had left everyone cringing. She smiled and set it down, her fingers trailing over the stitching of the bag she'd teased him for, calling it his man-purse. Her hands trembled as she lifted up one of his scrub caps, bringing it to her chest and exhaling out a sob.

"I can take care of all of this," Meredith whispered, placing a hand on Amelia's shoulder. "You should go talk to the kids." Amelia shook her head quickly.

"I can't do it, Mer."

"They need to hear it from you." She embraced Amelia before pointing towards the staircase that led to the children's rooms. The mother bit her lip and reached out for the railing, steadying herself on it. She saw them both sitting on Scout's bed, Charlotte holding her stuffed cat as Scout read her a chapter of one of his favorite books. Amelia paused in the doorway and simply observed them for a moment, not wanting to disrupt the peace she witnessed while simultaneously staring at her son's face, admiring his father's resemblance among his features. But she knew she had to tell them.

"Hey, guys," she greeted, walking into the room. Both of the children's faces lit up at the sight of their mother, and they jumped forward into her arms, relaying how much they had missed her. She felt a pang of guilt even though she had only stayed overnight at the hospital. "There's something I need to tell you guys," her voice sank, holding their hands. "Yesterday, after Daddy dropped you off at school," she looked at Scout, "there was a really bad accident. A car hit him, and Daddy got hurt."

"Can we bring him donuts?" Scout asked hopefully, knowing that was the family's go-to solution for any problem that occurred. Amelia bit her lips and shook her head as tears fell from her eyes.

"No, because Daddy got hurt really bad. And the doctors tried to make him better, but they couldn't save him." Scout and Charlotte were both silent as their mother burst into sobs. "But even if he's not here, I know that Daddy is watching over us and making sure that we're okay right now," she whispered, gripping their tiny hands tighter.

"Daddy died?" Scout asked, his voice shaking. Amelia moved her hand to cup his cheek and nodded sadly, brushing away a tear with her thumb.

"Yes, Daddy died yesterday." She pulled them both into a tight hug, the sounds of crying filling the room. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

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Amelia stared blankly at the ceiling above her. The funeral was nice enough; everyone gave their condolences and apologized as if they could have done anything to prevent it. She'd barely retained anything that was said. The image of his body in the casket kept replaying in her mind, her daughter's cries sounding over and over again, and Scout's soft whisper to his father, asking him to come back home, all breaking her heart into tiny pieces. She turned her head to the empty space next to her, the indent of his head on the pillow he'd kept for far too long still visibly present. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to imagine him next to her, his bright smile and joyful eyes greeting her when she woke up, their kids joining them for morning cuddles before Link finally convinced everyone it was time to get ready.

She grasped at the chain around her neck, to which she had added Link's ring. It'd taken awfully long for some of their friends and family to leave after the service, but Meredith had been kind enough to usher everyone out once a few hours had passed. Amelia made a mental note to thank Meredith as soon as she could think straight.

Eventually, Amelia gathered the energy to get out of bed. She unzipped the back of her black dress, taking it off and throwing it on the floor in a moment of anger. It was one she had purchased years ago and never intended to use as a funeral dress. It came with a blue cardigan that had perfectly matched the blue tie Link wore to their coworker's wedding, and she didn't even end up wearing the actual dress to the wedding. She'd shoved the dress into a box in her closet, and she guessed that Meredith had dug it out sometime over the past few days. Her hands pulled Link's pajama drawer open, lifting up a pair of his flannel pajama pants and holding them up to her nose, and taking a deep breath. They smelled like him. The fabric was damp a moment later, and she realized she had been crying.

Maggie and Winston were in the kitchen, and Amelia could smell something sweet as she walked out, careful not to trip over the long pant legs of Link's clothes. Maggie looked surprised to see her sister come out of the bedroom and greeted her softly. "Hey," she whispered, pulling Amelia into a hug. "We're making cupcakes for the kids." Maggie glanced up and down, noting Amelia's attire. She smiled sympathetically.

"Where did Mer go?"

"She and Zola went to pick something up. They'll be back soon," Winston spoke, pouring batter into a pan. "Can I ask how you're feeling?" Amelia shrugged.

"Best I can be feeling right now." She sat down at the island, resting her head on her hands. "I don't know what to do, now." Maggie occupied the seat next to her.

"We're taking it one step at a time."

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They were never the people to purchase extravagant bouquets of flowers. So, she didn't feel like it was right to bring flowers to his grave and instead settled on the grass with a plastic container holding a donut. She figured if he was somehow watching or haunting her, he'd appreciate seeing her continue something that had become a tradition for them. "Hey," she tried, her voice wavering. Amelia felt uncomfortable as she spoke into the air, suddenly paranoid that someone was listening and judging her. She let out a breath. "I brought a donut. At first, I thought I'd get one for you and put it down, but then that just seemed like a bad idea and would probably attract some wild animals," she laughed, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"I miss you. And I know that's incredibly generic and probably meaningless, but I miss you. The longer it is, the more I remember little things that make me miss you and places in my life where there's now a hole." Her fingers drummed against the lid of the plastic box. "It's been a week. Which isn't really a long period of time when you put it in perspective, but this has probably been the longest week of my life," she confessed, glancing at the headstone. It was simple and awfully plain, but Amelia had a particular sort of admiration for it. The words, 'Husband, Father, Son,' were etched into the stone; the three words she knew had all been sources of pride for Link.

"I can't stay for too long. Partly because I'll end up sobbing if I do," she laughed, "but we also told Scout we'd get him ice cream. Maggie took him and Char to the playground nearby." Amelia had laughed when she first heard about the playground a block away from the cemetery, but now she understood the purpose of it. "Maggie and Winston keep looking at me like I'm going to fall apart. Which probably isn't too far off, but it makes me feel like a deer in headlights." She pulled the necklace out from under her shirt. "Meredith understands. She knows when to give me space and when I need a hug. I just wish you were here. It sounds ridiculous, but grieving your death would be so much easier with you by my side." She laughed at what she said a second later, shaking her head. "I mean like, you always know how to comfort me. Or, you always knew," she corrected. Amelia opened the container holding the glazed donut she'd purchased and lifted it to her mouth.

"I honestly haven't had much of an appetite. The one thing I've been wanting more than anything is to drink. But, I won't. I made Mer take all of the alcohol out of the house just to be safe," she brushed a piece of hair back and paused before continuing. "We had cupcakes yesterday, but then I remembered that you were buried in the ground a few hours later, and I ended up puking everywhere." She turned the donut in her hand. "Don't worry, Meredith made me take a pregnancy test. It was kind of funny, actually. She held back my hair while I was puking and then told me how she blamed her nausea on her grief when she was pregnant with Ellis. I made her go out and buy a bunch of tests, even those ones that can tell like a few days after conception—all negative. I'll probably take a few more in a week because now I'm super paranoid. I don't think I could go through a pregnancy without you here," she whispered, looking at the shine of the glaze on the donut.

"I'm gonna eat it, now. And you don't get to judge me," she spoke before shoving the whole donut in her mouth, quickly wiping away a bit of glaze left around her mouth. She giggled as she chewed, soon unable to discern if the sounds she was making were laughs or cries.

"I'm mad at you for dying. I'm really pissed off," she whimpered out, now realizing that she was crying. "But I'm glad I got to love you. And, I'm going to keep loving you, so if you're out there, you have to make sure to stay by me." Her phone buzzed beside her with a text from Maggie informing her that they were walking back. Amelia sighed. "Remember after Meredith woke up from COVID forever ago, and she told us all about the dead people she saw and how they were watching over her and could kind of push her to do something?" She paused as if waiting for a nod or hum from him. "You should figure out how to do that, or whatever. And maybe I'll know."

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Scout's birthday came sooner than Amelia could process. Thankfully, Meredith had reminded her and taken her to the mall to get presents a few days before. "Link wanted to get him a guitar for his birthday," she'd whispered as they walked past a music store. "I don't know anything about guitars." Meredith took her hand as tears fell down her sister's face and smiled at her.

"We'll go ask someone. I'm pretty sure he'll need a little guitar. That's a thing, right?" The worker directed them towards a wall of guitars, and Amelia was immediately overwhelmed. There were so many different choices, and she had no idea what she was looking for. Her eyes fell on a light brown guitar. There was nothing extraordinary about it, but it was like a magnet, and before she knew it, she was walking over to the guitar. She pulled it off the wall and smiled as if the feeling of it was right.

"This one," she murmured, bringing it over to the counter.

"Why?"

"Link told me to get this one. He did the dead person shove type of thing," she grinned confidently, forgetting the wave of grief she felt earlier.

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It just so happened that Scout's birthday fell on the one-month anniversary of Link's death. Amelia mused about how it was a good distraction, but it seemed to bite her in the ass that same night. Scout had a party with his friends, and the house was filled with happy children, occupying Amelia for a few hours. They'd made a tradition of having a smaller event after whatever birthday party was happening, just their family in Seattle.

"Okay, this one is from Auntie Mer," Amelia handed him a box, reaching over the mountain of torn wrapping paper in the living room. He opened it to pull out a stuffed bear, and Amelia's heart fell.

"It's a Daddy bear!" Scout shouted, holding it up in the air. The bear was wearing a bear-sized Mariners t-shirt and had one of Link's scrub caps tied tightly around its' soft head. Amelia choked out a sob at the sight, and Meredith wrapped her arms around Amelia from behind.

"I hope it's okay that I took one of the scrub caps; I just wanted Scout to have something," Meredith whispered over the sound of their family laughing, holding onto her sister tightly as she cried. Scout looked over at them, and concern flooded his features once he noticed his mother's upset.

"Momma," he spoke, walking over to her. "You can hold Daddy bear." Amelia pulled her son into her arms tightly.

"We made one for your Mommy too," Meredith added, pulling out another box. "It doesn't have a scrub cap, but I know you have a few." She opened the box and held out an identical bear. "And one for Charlotte. Everyone gets a Daddy bear." Amelia took the bear and brought it into her hug with Scout, holding her arm out for Charlotte to join. It soon turned into a family hug, with everyone in the room piling together and the neurosurgeon's sobs soon turning into laughs. After the moment passed, everyone pulled away, and Amelia was left to hug her bear.

"I have a bottle of his cologne in the room; we can make them smell like him," Amelia suggested while holding the stuffed animal close to her chest. She felt a gust of air brush up her arm in the way Link would comfort her so often, rubbing his fingers lightly up and down her skin to ground her. "You're gonna make me go insane imagining things," she whispered into the bear's head, still gripping it closely. "I love you."

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She sipped her mug of tea, pulling a blanket over her lap as a breeze hit. Charlotte was lying against her chest, her blonde hair flying in front of her face with her arms attempting to swat it away. "Here," Amelia spoke, placing her mug down. "I'll put it up."

"Braids!" Amelia grinned at her daughter's request, beginning to gather the mess of hair on the girl's head. Scout was sitting on the porch floorboards, strumming some non-sensical tune on his guitar with a binder of music in front of him.

8 months after her husband's death, and Amelia still wouldn't say that she was okay. And, she was beginning to learn that it's okay to not be okay. It was moments like this where part of her just wanted to cry at the thought of him missing them, seeing their son learn to play the guitar as their daughter begged for the braids he always put in her hair. Each holiday, birthday, anniversary, and memorable moment caused floods of grief to pass over the mother.

She finished braiding and tied a yellow rubber band around the girl's hair, pulling Charlotte into a tight hug and ignoring the blur of her vision as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Link had always told her how their daughter was exactly like her, but over the past few months, Amelia had noticed how much she resembled her father. Sure, Charlotte definitely looked the same as Amelia did when she was young, but she had her father's dirty blonde hair and his endlessly caring personality.

Charlotte laid her head back against her mother's body. "I miss Daddy," she whispered, her tiny blue eyes watching Scout adjust his fingers in concentration. Amelia kissed her daughter's head.

"I miss Daddy, too, Char."

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One year. One year ago, Amelia woke up with a feeling. Something that told her not to get out of bed or go to work, a sense that she ignored. She often wondered what would've happened had she stayed at home that day, convinced Link to join her in bed and call their son out sick from school to spend the day as a family. She learned not to let that guilt overcome her. Amelia flipped over in bed to the space her husband once slept in, the indent of his head on the pillow no longer visible. Over time, she'd felt herself losing small pieces of him, something she knew was inevitable but knowing that didn't make it sting any less.

"Momma," the door pushed open, and Charlotte walked through, her teddy bear under her arm. "Cuddles?" Amelia grinned widely and held the blanket open for the girl to join her. Another part of Link she saw in their daughter, her ability to tell when her mother needed her.

The door opened again shortly after, and Scout walked through. He eagerly jumped up onto the bed and rolled onto the other side of his mother, settling under her arm. "Do I have to go to school today?"

"Nope. I already called them and told them you would both be out today," she responded, placing a kiss on the top of her son's head. "I thought that we could spend the day cuddling together and watching movies." Scout sat up quickly.

"We're gonna watch Cars!" The mother watched as her son scrambled out of bed and ran into the hallway quickly. She turned her gaze to her daughter.

"Let's go cuddle on the couch and watch Netflix. I'll tell Scout to let you pick the next movie," Amelia grinned, scooping the girl up into her arms.

"My Daddy bear!" Charlotte pointed down and the bear on the bed. The mother tilted her downwards so she could reach it. "Daddy bear has to come with."

"Of course," Amelia smiled, carrying her daughter into the living room and tossing her on the couch. The three of them settled under a pile of blankets, their eyes all gravitating to the screen in front of them, but Amelia wasn't sure if any of them were truly paying attention. She glanced down at her daughter, who was holding her bear tightly against her chest. Her eyes drifted to the mantle below the T.V., scanning the rows of mismatched frames and photos of their family over the past years.

"Are you thinking about Daddy?" Scout asked, following his mother's gaze. She looked down and him and smiled sadly, nodding her head.

"Of course. It's hard not to think about him today," she kissed the boy's head and pulled him closer.

"I think that Daddy is taking care of us. Like how Auntie Mer said that Uncle Derek would watch us," Scout whispered, fiddling with a loose strand on the blanket.

"I think so too, Scout." The boy sighed and snuggled down further into the couch.

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Hours passed, and the kids were sprawled across the couch, sleeping contently as Scout mumbled quietly in his sleep. Amelia carefully removed herself to not disturb them, taking her empty mug to the sink and rinsing it out. Her fingers drummed against the edge of the sink, and she looked out of the small window above the counters. The sun was unusually bright for a day in March, causing the silver jewelry on her neck to reflect the light onto the wall. She smiled and reached down, pulling the chain out.

She imagined him standing behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and his head resting on her shoulder. He'd brush back the strand of hair framing her face and whisper into her ear how he loved her.

Amelia opened the window and smiled at the gust of wind that came through, sending goosebumps up her arms. "I miss you," she whispered, tracing her fingers up her arm to her shoulder.

Another gust of wind brushed up her arm, and she grinned to herself. "You're gonna make me go insane," a laugh fell from her mouth.

"Mommy?" She turned to see Scout rubbing his eyes tiredly and kneeled to his level. "I need a hug," Scout confessed, walking into his mother's arms.

"What's wrong?"

"I miss Daddy." She embraced him tighter and sighed.

"Daddy's here with us. Always."

#amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelink #amelia x link #amelink fanfic #amelink fanfiction #grey's anatomy #greys abc #greys fanfic #meredith grey #maggie pierce #nico kim #my fics

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

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Thanks for getting back to me so quickly! I’m the one that asked about the fic recs ☺️ could you please do a fic where jolex have a cute tickle fight with all the fluff in the world?? Thank you 🙏🏼

oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up

this took so long to fulfill like holy crap. I’m so sorry about that. I had to improvise a bit, because jolex is so not the tickling kind of couple and much more of a ‘slap dat booty’ kinda pair you know? But hey, i don’t think that anyone is complaining about jolex babies, right?

again, thank you all SO MUCH for 100 followers! i still can’t believe how crazy that is! this is super fluffy so yeah, i hope you enjoy it! also, tickle scenes are so much harder to write than i expected...

Alex Karev peeled his bloody surgical gloves off with a relaxed sigh, taking off his gown and tossing it into the bin while simultaneously telling a resident to finish closing up for him. When he gets back to the scrub room he leans against the sink, hands taking hold of the sturdy metal, closing his eyes for a minute because it feels like he can finally breathe.

His surgery had gone on for seven hours. The kid on the table crashed twice and had lost so much blood at one point he didn’t think the boy was going to make it. Luckily, thanks to skilled hands, surprisingly helpful residents, and Meredith Grey, nine year old Mike Harper was going to be okay. He removes his scrub cap from his head, tucking it into his pants and running a hand through his hair before turning on the faucet and putting his hands under the water, scrubbing off with the bar.

He shakes his hands dry, little water droplets flying here and there before exiting the room, traveling down the brightly lit halls of the surgical floors until he reaches the elevator. He clicks the button for the ground floor, where the parents are waiting. From there it was routine procedure. He tells the couple that their kid is gonna be alright, they cry tears of joy, they thank him, they ask when they can see their son, he informs them that they’re closing up right now, so he should be relocated to the PICU soon, and they thank him again before sitting back down.

Alex makes his evening rounds on patients, goofing and joking with them until he’s done and can finally head home. He’d been on call for the past sixteen hours, and all he really wants to do is go home and see his girls.

Unfortunately, he learned from the nurses that Jo was pulled into an emergency surgery a few hours earlier, and had yet to finish, so he didn’t know how long it would be until she was done. He changes out of his scrubs and into his regular clothes, bidding a short goodbye to Meredith, who laid sprawled out on the attendings lounge couch, grumbling that she was trying to sleep and he was making too much noise to allow her to do so.

Adjusting his old, ratty jacket on his shoulders, he slips his phone, wallet, and keys into his pocket, making his way up to the daycare where the littlest Karev was waiting. The worker, Patricia gives him a warm smile, sliding the sign out sheet across the counter.

“Hey Doctor Karev! Picking up I'm assuming?” she gestures towards his attire, making him nod in response.

“Yeah. I know Jo usually finishes first on Fridays, but she got called in at the last minute.” he says, which earns him an understanding chuckle.

“Well, I’ll be right out. She was just taking a brief nap, but don’t worry, she’s only been down for about fifteen minutes or so.” she reassures him.

He nods, shoving his hands in his jeans, pulling out his phone and checking the time. 7:23 pm. It was getting closer to his daughter’s bedtime, so it would make sense that she would start to be getting tired. Alex smiles at his lockscreen, a picture of him, Jo, and their little girl at her two year old birthday party a few months ago. Jo had gone all out, decorating their yard with extravagant streamers, decorative backdrops, and a huge bouncy house. In the picture that stared back at him, Jo and their freshly two year old toddler were both wearing pink, Jo’s in the form of a sheer blouse, and their daughter’s in a frilly dress that Jo spent way more money than she should’ve on. Alex matched, wearing a pink tie and white button down. He had refused immensely at first, but after much pleading from the tiny girl, he gave in. Because what kind of father could say no to puppy dog eyes?

“Daddy!” he sees the little bundle of blue run towards him, causing him to sweep down and pull her into his arms, bunching the thick fabric she was wearing.

“KK!” he exclaims, matching her enthusiasm, taking the backpack from Patricia, giving a silent nod to her as a way to say both ‘thank you’ and ‘goodnight’.

His daughter bounced in his arms as they made their way through the door, asking to be let down a few seconds later. Donned in a Cinderella dress up gown and purple converse, Katrina Karev started to race down the hallway in all her glory, the mini ponytail that Jo had done that morning swinging from side to side as she prompted Alex to come catch her. He lets out a small laugh, jogging to catch up to her before she can potentially get in the way of nurses coming in and out of rooms, scooping her up again, making her let out a loud squeal and turn into a fit of giggles.

“C’mon Kitty-Kat, we gotta go home.” he places her on the ground, holding her tiny hand in his. “No running. What have Mommy and I told you?”

Katrina sighs, puffing out her lips dramatically. “No running in hossal.” she grumbles. She had trouble pronouncing words that had a sharp sound to them, like ‘p’, ‘t’, and ‘j’, but both Alex and Jo found it quite adorable.

“That’s right. Because Mommy and Daddy’s friends are working really hard to help everyone, and we don’t want to get in their way, right Kat?” he reminds her of the rules, because as much as both he and Jo wished that they could say that their child was perfectly well behaved, she wasn’t. It was simply what having a kid was like. He’d never met a child who listened to every word their parent’s said, followed every rule, and never talked back. And despite what so many different television programs liked to show, it was completely normal for kids to be that way, no matter how crazy it drove the adults.

Kat murmurs in response, taking on her Dad’s grumpy persona. She wanted to run! She’d been inside of daycare with Scout all day, playing with blocks and crayons, which meant that she was stuck sitting. She wasn’t allowed to play tag in the circle room, no matter how much she asked Miss Lynn.

The duo makes their way to Alex’s car, unlocking it before lifting her up and strapping Katrina into her carseat, brushing back a couple strands of hair that had fallen in her face. He slides his way into his drivers side, revving up the car when Kat speaks from the back.

“Music Daddy, music!” she cheers, a crooked grin across her face as she bounces around in her seat.

Alex lets out a breath. As much as he loved his daughter, listening to the same exact Disney princess songs over and over were less than enjoyable. So far this week, he’d heard Let It Go twelve times, You're Welcome ten, and Be Our Guest seven, and those were just the most popular ones. He begrudgingly picks up his phone and puts on Into the Unknown, thankful that this was only his second time hearing it in the last couple of days. He swore that if Kat asked him to listen to Dyawne Johnson singing that damn song one more he was going to hurl himself out of the car.

Little hums come from the backseat during certain parts of the song, and when the chorus plays through the car he mentally prepares himself for the yells that were to come. Poor Kat couldn’t sing, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. What kind of monster tells his two year old daughter that she sounded like a dying cat? Katrina Karev was good at a lot of things, (math, spelling, and playing dress-up just to name a few) singing just wasn’t one of them.

With a more than relieved sigh he pulls into the driveway, turning off the car, and therefore the music. Whatever tiredness the toddler was feeling before had gone down the drain, so he knew it would be a while before he would be able to get her to bed. Kat unbuckles herself, getting out of the car and playing hopscotch with the homemade chalk version she and Jo made on the walkway up to the house’s door. She hops from one foot to the other, and Alex had never been more grateful for the fact that she had a good sense of balance. The last thing he wanted was Jo to come home to a bloody kneed Kat and have to explain to her that she fell while doing hopscotch. Honestly, he didn’t even think kids played that game anymore, but when Jo pulled out the sidewalk chalk a few days prior and started drawing, Kat was immediately hooked, and used every opportunity she could to hop across the little squares. Jo laughed when she saw how entranced the girl was, telling Alex that she had been the same way when she was a bit older, and the only thing that got her through some of the tougher houses was when she would go down the road and create a hopscotch game of her own. It became such a comfort in fact, that the tradition continued until she was a teenager. She told him that it would only seem right to share that little bit of joy from her childhood with her daughter.

They make their way up the steps and Alex unlocks the door, flipping on the light switch as soon as it swings open. Chilly air greets them, since the house hadn’t been in use since earlier that day, and the temperature had been in the low fifties the past week in Seattle. He lets Kat toddle up the stairs, walking over to the thermostat that sat the hallway and cranking it up, knowing that if there was one thing his wife liked coming home to more than her family, it was her family in a warm and toasty house.

“KK, you hungry?” he calls from the kitchen, being able to faintly hear footsteps padding around upstairs. He winces when he hears something thud to the ground, but assumes it was either Kat or her backpack.

“Yeah!” the girl cheers from upstairs, causing Alex to chuckle and pull out some box mac and cheese from the cupboard. Kat had been a particularly picky eater lately, much to her parent’s annoyance, and had acquired a taste for a very limited amount of foods. Thankfully, she still liked mac and cheese, which was one of the few things both he and Jo could cook. Alex had gotten significantly better at cooking over the past year or so, but Jo was just as helpless as she was when she was in high school. Either way, both of them preferred takeout, but that wasn’t always an option when they had a two year old they had to take care of.

“I’m making mac and cheese, change out of your clothes, put your jammies on, clean up your room, and it should be done by the time you are.” he calls up the steps, taking Kat heard him when a groan is what he received in response. Kat was all Jo in the fact that she was incredibly sassy, and not to mention stubborn. She was fine with changing into her pajamas, but she hated cleaning up her room. The way she saw it, it was like one big painting, with all of her toys and books scattered around, but to her parents, it looked like a tornado had come and hit her bedroom. No matter how many times the two of them put everything away, a couple days later Kat’s room only seemed to have gotten messier. Maybe they could blame it on the terrible twos, except rather than having her act out behavior wise, it was a complete destruction to her room.

He pours the water into the pot, waiting for it to boil before adding the noodles. He pulls out his phone, skimming through emails and texts while the noodles cook, noticing a text from Jo that says that she just got off and was now heading home.

Once the noodles were done, he pours in the cheese packet, followed by the milk and butter. He felt his mouth water, hunger from the day finally catching up to him. He was grateful that the box was large and Kat was so young, so that meant he could steal some of her dinner, and thankfully still have enough left over for Jo if she wanted some too. The last thing he had to eat was a small snack before his surgery hours ago. When the food finally came together, he turns off the stove, picking out a pink plastic bowl from the cabinet for Kat and a regular glass one for him. It was kind of funny how much their cupboards changed once they had their daughter. Half of what they owned was plastic and princess themed, cheap little things bought from places like the ninety-nine cent store. They quickly realized that the printed patterned bowls and cups from dollar stores worked just as well as the ten dollar four pack they purchased. Plastic spoons littered the drawers rather than just metal, little stars and hearts on the end of them different than tiny, intricate designs that they had gotten used to, since after their honeymoon they realized that one of the gifts they were registered for was real, fancy silverware. He liked those plastic spoons much more though. After all, the smile Kat got on her face when she asked for a princess spoon or fork never failed to melt his heart.

Just as he placed Kat’s bowl on the island counter, the little girl comes bumbling down the stairs, dressed in her favorite Cinderella nightgown and stuffed monkey clutched in her hand. She practically runs to her stool, making grabby hands so Alex knew she needed to be picked up. He does so, placing her in the seat before she digs into her food, smiling as if it was the best mac and cheese she’s ever tasted. She shovels the food into her mouth, getting it all over her face, finishing it even quicker than Alex, all while talking about her day in daycare in only a way a parent would be able to understand.

He laughs to himself, wetting a paper towel and wiping off her face, which proves to be a struggle because Kat couldn’t stop giggling. “Go put on some TV, I’ll clean up in here and we’ll watch something ‘till Mama gets home.” he ruffles her hair, messing up her ponytail, and Kat wastes no time before scurrying off the chair and dashing into the living room, climbing up on the couch and turning on the television, an old episode rerun of Max and Ruby playing.

Alex finishes up in the kitchen, washing the bowls before putting them in the dishwater and starting it, since it was now a full load. He walks up the stairs to his and Jo’s room, throwing on a pair of pajama pants and a shirt before settling down on the couch, pulling his daughter close to him. Kat immediately snuggles into his side, taking a tiny fist and bawling it into his shirt, something she’d been doing since she was a baby. (Katrina would always be a baby in his eyes, it didn't matter how old she got.)

Around halfway through the episode, he feels the little hand unclench his shirt, fingers start to violently attack his neck in strokes. He lets out a laugh, looking towards Kat, “What are you doing silly girl?” he grins.

“Tickling you Daddy!” she cheers, continuing to try to get a laugh off of him.

He opens his mouth dramatically, eyes widening as he takes in her delighted giggles. “Oh, Kitty-Kat, you don’t know what you’ve just done,” he sighs. Kat stops, looking up at her dad, confused.

“You’ve unleashed,” he meets her eyes, breaking out into a wide smile, “the tickle monster!” he pulls her towards his tickling her feet, sides, and neck all at once, the little girl's loud laughs filling the air.

“No tickle monster daddy!” she squeals, squirming around, trying to stop the attack on her sides, laughs echoing off the empty house.

At that moment, Alex makes eye contact with a grinning Jo, who was just stepping through the front door. At the sound of her daughter’s laughs she felt wide awake, and she knew that by Alex’s mischievous look she could join in on the fun. She silently heads toward the couch, plopping down and starting her own fingers assault on the little one’s sides.

“Mommy help!” Kat squirms once she sees her mom, looking directly at her with eyes that were a mirror image of her own.

Jo pulls the girl into her arms, planting a big kiss on her head, leaving behind remnants of her cherry chapstick. “Mommy’ll save you KK,” she grins, only to bite her lip and pull away.

“But Mommy is a tickle monster too!” she flips Kat around with ease, bringing her little feet up to her face and blowing raspberries on them like she did when she was still a baby.

“No no Mommy no!” the girl giggles, thrashing around in a failed attempt to wiggle out of her grasp. Just to her luck, her dad decides to join in again, giggles turning into loud laughs that came from her little belly, a grin so wide neither one of them had ever seen it before.

“I’m gonna eat you!” Jo presses little kisses all up the girls, legs acting as if they were bites, making her laugh even more in the process. Jo gnaws at the skin, making pops with her lips and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Mmm,” she hums face scrunching up playfully, “delicious” she grins, the sound of her daughter giggles filling her ears until it was all she could hear.

Alex and Jo share a look. This was one of those moments, the ones where all they wanted to do was just pause time and stay in this one freeze-frame for the rest of their lives. It was moments like these they wanted Kat to stay this way forever, this perfect age and unconditional love she had for everything.

But for now, these pure, unfiltered moments of happiness were all they would need.

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bugsbucky · 4 years

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Beauty Day With Daddy

Dad!Bucky x mother!reader x Grace Barnes

SUMMARY: Your 7-year-old daughter is bored but her father is a good muse until things take an expected turn.

PROMPT: “Did you just lick me?!” - Prompt will be bolded.

WARNINGS: Fluff and some other things I can’t put my finger on.

WORD COUNT: 954

AUTHORS NOTES: This drabble is for @the-ss-horniest-book-club and my wonderful friend @jobean12-blog made a couple of suggestions to me for some dad!bucky ideas and I just loved them so much because they are perfect! Hope you all enjoy this wonderful fluffy-ness too :) also thank you so much Jo for reading this and giving me your feedback!

“Papa. I’m ready for you now.” Grace said with a big toothy grin as she stepped out from her bedroom. Her father Bucky, was sat outside her door waiting for his ‘appointment’.

“Man about time. You know young lady, you kept me out here for almost a whole hour.” Bucky deadpanned and Grace chuckled.

“Sorrrrry daddy. I had to get everything ready!” She defended and Bucky chuckled.

“Did you fall asleep or what?” He asked as he stood up, the bones in his body cracking from being sat down for way too long.

You were just down the hall reading your book so you heard everything and chuckled to yourself under your breath. Grace already had you help her to pin Bucky’s hair up earlier. Now she wanted to give him a total makeover.

“Okay daddy. Take a seat.” She motioned towards the floor and Bucky sighed playfully, he secretly loved taking orders from his 7 year old.

“Yes ma’am.” He sat with a thud on the carpet, crossing his legs and Grace told him to put his hands on the plastic table she had in her room, usually to do some colouring. “What are we doing today?” Bucky asked curiously as he watched her line up a row of nail polishes, pinks, purples, reds and a dark blue.

“You’ll see.” She giggled and took hold of his right hand. She decided to paint the nails on his right hand a bright pink, much to Bucky’s dismay.

Grace begins work almost immediately. Dipping the small brush into the pot of nail polish and wiping the excess liquid on the inside of the bottle before the little brush meets his fingernail. For a 7 year old, she doesn’t do a bad job. She doesn’t do it perfectly like you do yours, hers is rather clumpy and she gets it more on the skin around his nails than his actual nails. But then, even adults are capable of doing that for the other hand they don’t write with.

Next, Grace asks her dad to remove his socks and roll up the bottom of his sweatpants.

“Why? You gonna paint my legs?” He chuckles which earns him a small slap to his arm. “Ow!” Bucky pretended to cry and his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Aww daddy! Don’t cry, be a big boy!” She poked his chest and he pretended to cry louder and harder. Then suddenly, he felt her wet tongue on his arm where she had slapped him.

“EW! Did you just lick me?!” Bucky asked slightly grossed out.

“Yes I did.” She stated proudly with her little hands on her hips.

By this time, you had put down your horror book and walked quietly towards the door to see what was going on. A wide grin planted on your face as you took in the scene before you. Bucky noticed your presence and smiled lovingly up at you, letting you know they were of course just playing around. You took that as your cue to retreat back to the living room and continue reading your book.

“And why did you lick me?” Bucky asked, trying to sound disgusted but failed when she started to chuckle.

“Because I saw mommy do it at night to you when you’re in pain and then you do it to mommy so it helps people.” She shrugged and picked up the bottle of blue nail polish for his toenails.

Bucky is somewhat stunned. Firstly because he has super hearing and not once did he hear the door to their bedroom open and secondly, he was sure they kept the noise to a non-existent level to not wake their daughter up in the night.

Then embarrassment sunk in. He was well aware of the tantrums Grace would throw if they were caught having some private time in their bedroom. Grace for some reason, hated her mother and father alone. Maybe it was because Bucky always had his hands around your waist and kissing you all the time. Grace was definitely a daddy’s little girl and so if you were to ever initiate a kiss with Bucky, Grace would throw a massive tantrum which involved slamming her bedroom door numerous times and scream and cry at the top of her lungs.

Grace dipped the brush into the blue bottle of polish and began to do the same as his fingernails. Once she was finished, she sat back and grinned proudly at her work.

“All done!” She was glowing with pride. Bucky on the other hand was more mortified by her comment she had made.

“Thank you sweetheart. I’m gonna show mommy what a grand job you’ve done and you get cleaned up okay?” He told her, kissing her on the forehead before he walked out the room and closed the door behind him.

“Doll?” Bucky called out for you and you once again put down your horror book to answer him. “The weirdest thing happened.” He said as he sat down next to you.

“Your nails look great Buck. She’s 7 and did a great job.” You grinned and he shook his head.

“She licked me.”

You gasped. “Oh no. You know what? The dog did that to me earlier, so weird!”

“Y/N! Take me seriously!” He laughed and attacked your side with his fingers. “I’m serious. She was talking about us licking each other and thinks it heals people. How on earth are we gonna tell her you’re pregnant?”

“YOU’RE PREGNANT? I HATE THIS!” Grace screamed from behind the sofa, apparently her idea was to sneak up on her parents and scare them. She stomped back to her bedroom and just as they predicted, she threw a tantrum.

Taglist: @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1124

survey by nadine07

Three Names You Are Called:

1. Robyn, by virtually everybody.

2. Byn, by close family members.

3. For some reason I have some friends who call me Bynbyn? even though I never established it as a nickname?? but they use it as an affectionate nickname so ultimately I don’t mind it. It just takes me aback sometimes, lmao.

Three Colors You Are Wearing At the Moment:

1. Red

2. White

3. Pink. Or light purple, depending on how you see it.

The Last Three People To Call You:

1. My mom, though I missed the call because I was at work earlier.

2. I just saw that Ysa, my director, also tried to call me. This story is so fucking stupid...I physically went to the office last Wednesday to pack some groceries, and all day long I had been leaving the door slightly ajar every time I had to go out because I haven’t had my biometrics enrolled yet and I don’t hold the keys to the office (and I was the only one who requested to go there for that day).

Of course, knowing my luck, the door slipped while I was out (I had to very briefly hand a package to a courier), locking me out of the goddamn office with all my shit inside. Even worse, I had a meeting going on with a client – I had speaking parts assigned to me, and I got locked out like 30 seconds before my part would start. I’m guessing Ysa called me during the time I disappeared but I obviously couldn’t have answered the phone. It was infuriating, especially since my manager had to cover for my slides which she didn’t practice for.

I’ll no longer get into how I managed to get back inside since it’s another embarrassing and complicated story altogether, but suffice it to say I was really upset about the whole thing and I still feel uneasy imagining how that meeting could’ve gone down with my disappearance.

3. A courier. They usually call when they’re already arrived where you are, so that they know where exactly to meet up with you.

Three Days You Look Forward To Each Year:

1. My birthday, because it’s kinda cool turning into a different age.

2. Whenever Wrestlemania is scheduled, which is usually late March or early April.

3. ...I don’t have any either favorite days/dates.

Three Jobs You've Had:

1. PR associate.

2. That’s my first job. I’ve had two internships before that, and they were both at PR agencies.

3. -

Three Bands/Singers You Love:

1. Paramore

2. Beyoncé

3. The Japanese House

Three People You've Talked To Today:

1. It’s exactly 7 AM. I could’ve talked to my parents when they headed downstairs earlier but I pretended I was still asleep on the couch so that they couldn’t, hahaha. They’ve since gone out to jog. I don’t think I’ve said a word at all yet this morning, actually.

2. -

3. -

Three Things You Could Grab From Where You're Sitting:

1. My phone.

2. The other end of this table.

3. My vape pen.

The Last Three Things You've Had to Drink:

1. I most recently had a glass of water after I finished my bag of salted egg chips.

2. I finished off the last of my coffee.

3. I also drank soju last night as an impromptu thing because I saw that I still had a peach-flavored one (my favorite) in the fridge.

Three People You Can Always Count On:

1. Angela.

2. Andi.

3. I’m also gonna name Pia even though we aren’t the closest. Girl has been crazy supportive over the last few months.

Three Places You Want to Go:

1. That I haven’t been to yet? Seoul in South Korea.

2. Thailand.

3. Morocco.

The Last Three Places You've Gone:

1. Other than places in the house – the local coffee shop inside my village.

2. The office.

3. The Starbucks beside the office. I had arrived a bit early so I had some time to walk over there and order something.

The Last Three Non-Relatives You've Hung Out With:

1. Angela.

2. Hans.

3. We were 8 in the group the last time we went out lol. But aside from the above, Pia (a different one) was the one who made the most effort to talk to me as well.

Three People To Be Stranded On A Desert Island With:

1. Angela.

2. Kate.

3. Not sure. Maybe Al for some comic relief while we try to survive there?

Three Smells You Love:

1. Cookies being baked.

2. A hotel room.

3. Seafood.

Three People You Look Up To:

1. Angela’s mom.

2. Andi.

3. My manager, Bea. Well she just got promoted, so I guess I’ll call her my director now, hahaha.

Three Places You've Lived:

1. The duplex where I mostly grew up, just a village away from my current one. I got to experience living in either house, as well.

2. Tondo, Manila. With my dad’s family.

3. Sampaloc, Manila. My parents briefly had an apartment and I was there for like a few months as a newborn.

Three Good Teachers You've Had:

1. My music teacher for the entirety of high school.

2. My professor in international relations.

3. My professor in my social history and history of Filipino women electives.

Three Things You're Good At:

1. I gotta say I’m great at parking, hahaha. Backward parking, parallel parking, you name it.

2. Going through my to-do list and finishing off every task by the end of the day.

3. Reflexes, or reacting/responding immediately, especially in games.

The Last Three People You've Kissed:

1. Gabie.

2. -

3. -

The Last Three People You've Dated:

1. Gabie.

2. -

3. -

Three People With Whom You've Shared a Secret:

1. Andi.

2. JM.

3. Jo was the first person I informed about my breakup, and I didn’t even reveal it publicly until like three months after. I didn’t expect to confide in her especially since we aren’t the closest, but I think I was just desperate to tell someone then to finally acknowledge reality.

Three Irresponsible Things You've Done:

1. Vape.

2. Road rage.

3. Leave my laptop in a classroom as I left to go to another class, in another building.

Three Movies You Love:

1. Two for the Road.

2. Revolutionary Road.

3. Room.

The Last Three People You've Gone to the Movies With:

1. Angela.

2. Leigh.

3. Gabie.

The Last Three People You've Ridden in a Car With:

1. Laurice.

2. Kuya Toby.

3. Lui.

Three Facts About Your #1:

1. Can I name my best friends instead? Angela is in her final year of college taking up architecture.

2. She has two shih tzus, Hailey and Kennedy.

3. Her mom is a pediatrician and has her own clinic in their home.

Three Places You've Gone With Your #2:

1. I haven’t been too adventurous with Andi...most recently we’ve gone to a Korean barbecue joint for a one-on-one catch up date.

2. TK.

3. Rita’s house.

Three Things You've Done With Your #3:

1. Kate works for the government.

2. Last time I talked to her, she’s still set on retake a law school exam after not getting admitted to her campus of choice last year.

3. She had a bad habit of dating orgmates.

Three Things You Have in Common With Your #4:

1. Laurice is great at debate.

2. She lives in the south, so I don’t get to see her a lot.

3. She has a cute habit of calling many of our friends by their respective honorifics, even though they’re the same age or even when she’s literally older than some of them.

Three Things That Annoy You:

1. Making the effort to go to a store and seeing they’re closed for the day, even though they didn’t indicate it in their social media accounts.

2. Offices of government agencies and their ever-grumpy staff.

3. Filipinos’ tendency to turn 3 lanes into 6 during a traffic jam.

Three Things That Attract You To The Opposite Sex:

1. Asexual. Pass.

2. -

3. -

Three Material Items You'd Save If You're House Was On Fire:

1. My laptop, since all my work files and a whole ton of memories are in here.

2. My phone, so I can update family and friends.

3. My glasses. Realistically, I wouldn’t care about any of these and would jump up to grab my dogs instead.

Three Careers You've Considered:

1. Journalist.

2. Lawyer.

3. Historian.

Three Things You Wish You Knew About Your Future:

1. Whether marriage or kids will be part of mine.

2. When I’m dying, and what from.

3. Where I’ll end up living, and what kind of housing.

The Last Three Songs You Listened To:

1. Wait On - Hayley Williams

2. Good Grief - Hayley Williams

3. Over Those Hills - Hayley Williams. Stream Flowers for Vases, friends.

Three Things You Consider Lucky:

1. I don’t believe in lucky charms.

2. -

3. -

Three T.V. Show Characters You Wish Were Real:

1. Mr. Peanutbutter from BoJack Horseman.

2. Chandler Bing from Friends.

3. Glenn Rhee from The Walking Dead.

Three Issues You Have Strong Opinions On:

1. Racial equality.

2. Gender equality.

3. Abortion rights.

Three Things You Wish You Could Change About Yourself:

1. That I wasn’t so clumsy at work.

2. That I wasn’t too selfless all the time to just about anyone.

3. That I had a better hold of my finances and keep spending just because I’m still within budget, heheh.

Three People From Your Past You Wish You Could Spend a Day With:

1. My grandpa, who passed away before I could properly grow up and shoot the shit with him over some beer.

2. Nacho.

3. Sofie, so we can properly catch up, just the two of us.

Three Famous People You'd Like to Meet:

1. Beyoncé.

2. Hayley Williams.

3. Leni Robredo.

Three Things You Are Wearing:

1. A t-shirt.

2. A pair of shorts.

3. Underwear.

The Last Three Places You Went That Were More Than 2 Hours Away:

1. Tagaytay.

2. My dad’s family’s home in Laguna.

3. Those are the only places we’ve been to where we had to travel for a while.

The Last Three Reasons You Went to the Hospital:

1. Blood and urine test for my ~mystery illness~ last year.

2. I had to be confined for a couple of days because of low platelet count.

3. ...I was born. I haven’t made many trips to the hospital.

Three Things You Are Addicted To:

1. I’ve never felt comfortable using the term addicted because it’s an actual condition...but if you mean to ask for what I’m hooked to at the moment, I’d go with coffee.

2. And salted egg chips. I literally bought five bags of chips yesterday and I’m already finished with my third.

3. Anything Korean, tbh. Korean food, shows, music, etc...the Korean Wave is very strong over here and I’ve finally been reeled all the way in.

Three Favorite Colors:

1. Baby pink or pastel pink.

2. Mustard yellow.

3. Maroon.

Three Things You Will Do Now That This Is Over:

1. Find another one to take for later.

2. Finish my breakfast, and maybe heat up some leftover pasta because I’m still hungry.

3. Maybe get my embroidering template so I can make some progress today.

#survey #surveys

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anemonenemerosa · 4 years

Text

Hello hello,

here we go. Thank you for staying with me and thank you @lumosinlove for creating this world =)

This is still dark (but we’re getting a bit better) so please stay safe.

Chapter 10

They stopped in front of a big apartment-building, windows mostly dark, it was almost one in the morning. There was no doorman, no entry hall to the building, just a corridor leading to stairs and a concerningly dingy lift. Ouais, enfin… maybe I pay with my kidneys for this, after all.

The door to the flat opened, Regulus was pushed in and all but froze. He had never seen such a place.

There was no entrance hall in here either, the front door directly opened into a small living room with an open kitchen and a dinner table shoved into a corner, half hidden behind an overloaded laundry rack.

The windowsills were crammed with pot-plants in several states of... health? survival? decay? Books and knickknacks were messily shoved into the tall but sloping shelves lining the walls, which were painted in a soft warm yellow, making the room look sunny and warm, even in the middle of the night.

Nothing, not even the chairs or precariously crooked shelves seemed to belong to the same set of furniture. And was one of the table-legs different from the others?

It was... all over the place, really.

The worn maroon rug in the living area clashed horribly with the big, ugly purple corduroy couch and the mismatched and multicoloured throw pillows.

Posters of 80's movies -Regulus recognised Ghost Busters and Back to the Future- and lots of unframed photographs almost covered the wall behind the couch.

On the far wall were three doors, one closed, one revealing bits of a very messy bedroom, the other ajar, sporting a poster of a rather ancient wooden privy... What. The. Hell.

Regulus did not know what to make of this. He somehow loved it instantly while simultaneously cringing over all the chaos and all the stuff crammed in here. His, stylistically uninspired, mother would probably die of shock at the view and somehow that made the place a little more endearing to him.

However, he always thought of himself as tidy and some part of him died just a bit at the sight of the mismatched socks and shirts littering the part of the bedroom-floor he could see. This place, starkly contrasting the house he grew up in was bursting with life, messy and welcoming instead of an assembly of model rooms resembling what was shown in some posh interior-design magazine. This is what a home looks like, Regulus decided.

He allowed himself to be ushered further inside.

"Leave you shoes here please and put your coat..." Regulus turned around as the sentence did not continue and saw Ben looking at the overflowing coatrack behind the door.

"...Put your coat somewhere you will find it again" he concluded, nodding to himself.

Mateo already went past them into the kitchen and dived headfirst into the fridge. "We have some left-over Minestrone from yesterday, if you want, Reg."

Regulus turned, having disposed of his coat on one of the chairs. As he didn't answer for long enough to be considered impolite, Mateo lifted his head from the fridge, noticing Regulus blank stare

"Is it OK, if we call you Reg? Regulus sounds so stiff..." This warm, infuriatingly disarming, smile. Regulus could only nod.

These people rendered him speechless at a disturbing rate. Usually, he chose not to speak but with them, he often couldn't.

The only one who had ever called him Reg was Sirius and even he stopped that years ago. Could he really be Reg again? Was he allowed to? No, a malicious voice echoed through his head. You do not deserve that comfort. Remember what you did. Regulus felt sick.

"Soooo... Minestrone?" – "I am not hungry, but thank you" Regulus looked at Mateo, hoping he would not call him Reg, regretting his thoughtless agreement.

"When’s the last time you eaten?" Ben asked as he came from the Bedroom in striped Pyjama-bottoms and an old shirt. Regulus tried to remember if he had had lunch today. Not good.

"If you need to think about it, it is too long ago. You eat." The man stated as Mateo chuckled and put a pot on the stove.

"Do never deny again that you are a freaking mother hen", he joked while walking into the bedroom, probably to change, too.

Regulus hovered in the room, wary and utterly confused. He struggled to maintain a safe distance, still trying to fathom what's going on and why these strangers were more welcoming and affectionate than his family ever been.

A quiet but reckless voice in his mind - very different from the sneer that chimed up just a minute ago and sounding suspiciously similar to a younger Sirius- reminded him that he fucked up already and that he might as well go and enjoy his time while the universe and/or his mother were probably already in preparation to take him down.

----------------------------------------------------------

A while later he was seated on the ugly, lumpy couch, nursing a bowl of minestrone. He was clad in a much too small shirt ("this is the biggest shirt we have, you are just a giant") and borrowed underwear (his blood-stained sweatpants were soaking in the sink along with his, also bloody, shirt) and wrapped in a baby blue blanket with pink chickens on it. Why does such an item even exist?

The TV provided mindless background-noise while Ben and Mateo chattered along about anything and everything. Regulus just sat there in silence and listened intently. He never met people who would just go on and lay out their life in front of a person they just met. Let alone a person they found bleeding in the shower, mid-meltdown... Maybe their life history hinted on why they were so careless with private information.

And they really were. They told him everything and Regulus was confident he could write their memoirs by now.

Apparently, Mateo grew up in Manaus, Brazil So, it was Portuguese, not Spanish. ("That's where Rio Negro and Rio Solimões meet to form the Amazonas" The more you know...) He came to the US to study medicine on a scholarship, is in the last weeks of his training and only stays in Slytherin because-

"One cannot choose their training hospitals on that scholarship. No offense, mate." None taken.

They recounted how they met almost five years ago at an airport. That, after spending eight hours waiting for their delayed flight, they were joined at the hip. "Metaphorically and literally." Regulus went bright red at the innuendo while Ben patted his back sympathetically, shaking with suppressed laughter. He and Mateo were huddled up together in a yellow blanket with... Flamingos? Where did they even get these bird-themed things?

Ben had a sister, Josephine, who stayed here during semester breaks ("But do call her Jo or she will end you.") After Regulus gave a pointed look to the closed door, he was informed that he did not need to worry about their noise as she slept like the dead and even overslept a fire alarm in the building last summer.

Jo was 18, like Regulus but already in her Sophomore at Boston University as she skipped a year in middle school. "Got herself a scholarship and does computer-sciences, the insufferable nerd and know-it-all."

"She's really great, Reg. Ben is just her brother and thus, bound to think she’s annoying." Mateo interrupted Bens speech about his sister.

Regulus allowed himself a minute of going over the relationship with his own brother. Sirius was annoying. Very annoying, to be exact. But if anyone except him had called him out in the past, Regulus remembered feeling a little surge of protection against the git he was related to... maybe this was a siblings-thing.

He focused back on the conversation in front of him, fascinated by the insight of other people’s relations and upbringing.

The siblings grew up in Bristol, Great Britain, and moved to New York when Ben was seventeen and Jo ten but he did not elaborate on why they came here. That’s why I couldn’t place the accent.

Ben had studied Art History at NYU and actually worked at the Art Gallery in the city-centre. Cleaning the rink in the evenings was his means to save money for a tattoo shop he wanted to open in Boston, where they would move, come February, for Mateo’s new job.

He got informed that a note has been shoved under Jos door, announcing his presence, a spare toothbrush was presented and then, at nearly half past two in the morning, he is left for the night with a hug (!) from both of them. How touchy they are.

Regulus was not cuddly, never had been.

Really? You loved to snuggle up with Sirius in bed. The voice of reckless young Sirius supplied unhelpfully. This whole situation was completely surreal but also comfortingly normal.

This is a dream or, more likely, a godamn fever-trip. C’est pourri! This is shit! Regulus sighed.

These people were mad... hell, they didn't even know him. Yet, they took him in, fed him (very good) soup and freaking hugged him good night. They probably even stayed awake that long, filling the air with their complete life-story to keep him from feeling lonely... Allez savoir pourquoi! God knows why!

Reckless young Sirius suggested again to just roll with it and Regulus began to wonder whether he, instead of them, had gone mad.

This life he had a short glimpse into, this night was not real for him. He couldn't have that, considering the family he was born into and his obligation to live up to their expectations. Not to mention that he absolutely did not deserve being cared for after he de facto kicked his brother in the face ruined and his career.

The tiny voice piped up again, but Regulus silenced it with an exasperated groan. Yep, mad.

He surely would not sleep here on this odd couch. He would sit here, mull over all the shit that happened in just this one day, wait for them to wake up to thank them appropriately, return to the Malfoys and sleep there for a week to recompose himself.

#the spare #regulus black #oc's #Sweater Weather #lumosinlove

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spookypalace · 3 years

Text

worship the flame - chapter two

Jo peaks a look at him once or twice as he’s ordering a list of drinks, she’s certain he catches her as pink lips curve into a smirk. Brown eyes meet for a final time before he steps away, and she wonders—maybe her dry spell would end.

---

Or the one where Jo meets Alex in a bar, during her final year of med school.

(if you would rather read on ao3, you can do here)

Goosebumps were raised on Jo’s skin was the first thing she noticed when she woke up the next morning, and realizing it was because she was wearing nothing but a shirt was the second. Her bleary eyes blinked open, legs shifting under her comforter and rubbing together in an attempt to warm them up. She was facing the wall once she woke up, feeling a pressure against her back which immediately had her remembering that she wasn’t alone in her bed.

That, and the fact that she could feel soft warm breaths against her ear and the familiar scent of aftershave that greeted her when she inhaled a deep breath. Jo pressed a hand on her forehead as she turned to lay on her back, head turning to the right to catch sight of the boy sleeping soundly next to her. She blinked as she took in Alex, her heart jumping in her throat as he lay asleep, left arm folded under his head. Jo’s gaze flickered to his lips, full and pink and ones that she had kissed incessantly and felt kiss her everywhere.

She just knew her neck was going to be decorated with a few marks that he so generously left last night, and when she dropped her gaze and took in how he was shirtless and could see his chest since the comforter only reach their waists, she saw some of the marks that her own lips had left on his neck and even some on his chest. Luckily, the dark purple mixed with red hickies barely stood out against his tan skin, but it made a blush rise on her cheeks as she tore her gaze away from them, nonetheless. Her lips tingled at the reminder of how she couldn’t stop kissing him, either.

Her stomach fluttered as memories of last night briefly flickered through her mind as the dull soreness between her thighs reminded her of just how amazing it had been. Kissing Alex was one thing but being with him so intimately was an experience all on its own that she was so Goddamn overwhelmed to have gone through. In the best way.

From the events of the bar, to making it back to her apartment and then falling into her bedroom—last night had been very memorable to say the least, even with the copious amount of alcohol that had been mixed in.

Honestly, Jo would go as so far to say that sex with Alex had ruined any other encounter she had with a guy or may have in the future—but that could be the four months and six days talking. He knew exactly what to do, when to do it, and was all about delivering first and then receiving later. The way his hands had caressed her skin and his lips planted kisses everywhere that left a fire in their wake had her gasping and writhing without control.

Jo swallowed as she took in Alex’s sleeping face, realizing he looked so rugged yet innocent, when in reality the latter couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth. Last night was proof of that. Still, his brunette hair was messy over his forehead and closed eyes as he inhaled and exhaled softly, innocently, and Jo’s hand reached over as her fingers lightly pushed his hair back and away from his face so she could see all of it, her heart jumping in her throat at the mere sight of him.

She couldn’t believe that last night had happened, again and again … again, but she by no means regretted it because holy shit she didn’t think sex could be that amazing. Jo’s slept with her fair share of men, but none of them had her seeing stars and desperate for more like the way Alex had.

Licking her lips, Jo slowly sat up instead of just lying there and admiring Alex, because if it were up to her, she would just stay there and soak in the sight of him for as long as she could. She wore only his gray t-shirt, her work clothes on the floor next to Alex’s own clothes, and she blushed briefly when she realized he was completely naked under the covers. Carefully, Jo climbed off the bed, the cold air slapping against her skin as she made a mental note to turn on the heating as she scrunched her face up in a wince when Alex stirred as she got off the bed. He stayed asleep, rolling over onto his stomach and hugging her pillow as his back sank in a sleepy exhale.

Keeping Alex’s shirt on, Jo picked up a pair of pyjama pants from her dresser and slid them on since it was too cold for her to walk around without any on, padding barefoot into the bathroom to freshen herself up. As she washed her hands and face after using the toilet, her brows raised slightly at the sight of the couple of hickies on her neck, biting the inside of her lower lip to stop the stupidly giddy smile from growing on her lips.

Eventually, after adjusting the apartment thermostat, Jo wound up in the kitchen as she made herself a bowl of Coco Puffs. She then settled on the couch to watch reruns of some show she had seen Lexie watching religiously since they lived together, though focusing on the show was proving to be a bit difficult when she was all too busy thinking about the sleeping boy in her room.

Especially when, ten minutes later when she had finished her cereal and was leaning back against the couch, Jo was startled by lips pressing to her cheek and facial hair scratching her skin pleasantly. “Oh, God,” she jumped slightly, hand pressing to her chest as she looked up over her shoulder to see Alex standing behind her, leaning forward with his hands splayed on the back of the couch as he peered down at her. Ignoring the stutter of her heart at the sight of his shirtless form in nothing but his sweatpants and tousled hair, Jo breathlessly added, “you scared me.”

Alex grinned, dimples appearing cutely as he walked around the couch before settling down next to Jo with his left arm draping over her shoulders to pull her closer. She bit the inside of her cheek at the sight of his exposed upper half, especially when she caught sight of the few marks she had left behind as Alex’s right hand pushing back his hair as he chuckled deeply his eyes fluttering down to look at her small frame engulfed in his t-shirt, “sorry about that, what’s this?”

Despite the fact that she had seen Alex in all of his naked, ridiculously sexy glory last night, she was still slightly unnerved with him sitting right next to her without a top. “Do you want your shirt back?” she found herself asking, fingers playing with the hem of Alex’s shirt that reached her thighs. “I-It’s cold in here.”

“Nah, when you’re ready.” He breathes, “I won’t stay too long, though.”

Alex would be lying if he didn’t find the shy yet radiant smile that grew on Jo’s face endearing, revelling at the sight of her high cheekbones and the softness of her skin. “Cool, I’m not sure if my roommate made it home last night,” Jo wonders out loud, Alex looking down at her with raised entertained eyebrows. Jo leans off the couch slightly to grab her phone which was lying on the coffee table, checking to see if she kept her promise and let Lexie know she was home.

Thankfully, Jo had rang Lexie around the time she and Alex would have been stumbling through the front door. She would be lying if she said she remembered the conversation whatsoever, so she quickly types out a text to her roommate asking about her current whereabouts.

The brown eyed boy hummed thoughtfully as he watched her, tilting his head back as he looked up at the ceiling before shooting her the grin, “Alex Karev, by the way—we didn’t do much talking last night.”

A short, amused laugh left Jo’s lips as she looked at him, no longer paying attention to the show playing on TV and only having eyes for the boy next to her at the moment, they were strangers but she felt comfortable, a little shy maybe but still, comfortable. “I don’t usually do that,” she begins, keeping the nervous almost hesitant tint in her voice hidden but she can’t help the rambling that begins to fall from her lips, “hook up with strangers in the bathroom of a bar, I mean. Like, I have sex, but I just don’t do it in the bar’s bathroom, but it had been so long, and my friends were ragging on me—” She had no idea where she was going with this, and she hoped to God she didn’t sound like a complete loser as she cut herself off. God, she was pathetic.

But Alex threw all of her concern out the window as his expression softened, and while she had expected for him to smirk and be slightly arrogant, her heart swelled within her chest as his right hand came to grasp her behind the knees and move her position. Jo was now seated with her legs thrown over Alex’s lap, body turned to face his as he leaned closer and rested his hand on her thigh.

With a dimpled smile on his face, Alex spoke truthfully, “it was … mind-blowing, you don’t have to explain yourself. Whatever you did, I did too,” and his smile widened at the way she struggled to contain her own. Jo felt her cheeks heating up at his answer, wanting to avert her suddenly shy gaze but not being able to do so when Alex closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers. She instantly leaned into him, a quiet moan coming up from her throat at how Alex sucked her lower lip into the kiss that had both of them wrapping their arms around each other and Alex pushing Jo back down on the couch.

Safe to say, they were both eager to start their morning the same way they ended the night before, Jo just really hoped that Lexie wasn’t home.

___

“Jesus Christ—you couldn’t have just made the short journey into your bedroom?” Lexie grumbled as she wandered towards the kitchen while shooting the small brunette a glare, who sat on the edge of the couch; eyes apologetic ad legs crossed, her torso now covered with a pyjama top that belonged to herself.

Lexie’s snigger betrays her annoyance, as she grabbed herself a bag of chips and settled on the chair across from Jo, avoiding the now tainted couch. After what Lexie had just seen, she doesn’t think she’ll ever sit there again. “I’m sorry,” Jo scoffs, sitting up as she watched Lexie pop the bag open and shovel the contents into her mouth. “But was it not you who told me that I needed to get laid?”

Jackson Avery watched bemusedly as both his new kinda-girlfriend and her roommate exchanged looks from across the room, he had come back to the apartment with Lexie but didn’t get to see the show performed by the latter and her bar friend as he was busy hauling up grocery bags a few steps behind Lexie. Jackson snickers, avoiding Lexie’s glares, “who was the guy?”

An incredulous huff escaped Jo as she threw her head back and then she rolled her eyes while muttering, “his name’s Alex, we just met at the bar.”

“He was stupid hot,” Lexie piped up again whilst her mouth was still full of chips, quirking an eyebrow at Jackson who shot her a questioning look. “What? He was. I still have eyes, Jackson.” She huffs, rolling her eyes at his pointed gaze.

Jo giggled at the interaction between the pair, noting the way Jackson sat down and automatically pulled Lexie’s legs over his lap—kind of like the way Alex had done with her earlier, although she hoped she and Alex didn’t look so sickly sweet like the pair across from her. Jo scoffed silently at her own thought, there is nothing sickly sweet about the way Alex fucked her over and over. Suddenly, she felt both of their eyes on her as she was lost in her own thoughts, missing the way Lexie’s lips had moved to ask her a question.

Truthfully, Jo had assumed that sleeping with Alex would ease up the tension that had encircled her mind about finishing school and the hard time her sexist colleagues had been giving her. It was a selfish move, but it was a much-needed distraction, and it’s not like he was complaining. He didn’t even ask for her number as he hastily ran to her bedroom and grabbed his discarded clothing, however she had appreciated the way he pecked her lips and thanked her for letting him crash when she joined him in her bedroom, returning his t-shirt. It was something so small, but Jo liked it much better than when guys slipped out in the morning without even a goodbye. She was ridiculously attracted to Alex in practically every way someone could be attracted to another person, and she had stupidly just thought that once she got him in bed it would be over.

Multiple rounds of sex later and she was being proven terribly wrong.

She needed more.

If he had left her his number then she would definitely be calling it, not today or tomorrow but very soon she would be picking up her phone and dialling his number. After making sure the most she did with a guy never got past the physical point to tread into the dangerous, nagging territory of emotions, Jo was well versed in one-night stands. Jo hadn’t done the whole emotions shtick since she and her ex-boyfriend broke up over a year ago, and while she had moved on from that, she would be lying if she said she still wasn’t hurt over it. What better way to hide the pain of a breakup than burying it under a growing body count? But that only lasted a little while before she was back to practicing celibacy.

Alex seemed like a guy who would be into that, maybe it was assumptious and also a slightly nasty thought, but that’s the impression that she got from their time together—and she didn’t mean for it to sound like that, because that was all she wanted. Someone she could hook up with without the fear of being murdered or catching something. God, she really wished he left his number.

“Huh?” Jo asks finally, Lexie and Jackson’s inquisitive stares becoming too much.

“Do you plan on seeing him again?” Lexie asks, both her voice and eyes were full of hope. It had been so long since she had seen Jo so engrossed in something that didn’t involve school work, and if her lust glazed eyes told Lexie anything, it was that Jo was certainly not thinking about school. “From what I saw he was, like, really into you,” Lexie raised her eyebrows suggestively, “and I advise you not to do your usual thing, either.”

“What usual thing?” Jackson asks with raised eyebrows, enjoying the round of gossip.

Jo’s lips puckered in thought, thinking she knows exactly what her friend had meant, as Lexie spoke up casually. “Oh, Jo will hook up with a guy and immediately begin to point out all of their flaws just so she has an excuse not to call them again.” Jo glanced over at Lexie, a silent question in her eyes as Lexie added, “don’t look at me like that, you love to pretend that they’re jerks but you’re the one who ghosts them.”

The brunette nearly choked on her own saliva, looking completely affronted as she stammered out a defensive, “I do not!”

Lexie snorted, eyes on the remaining chips at the bottom of the bag and sarcastically stated, “oh, yeah, because Jack with the great job and great family values and amazing body who treated you like a freakin’ queen did not blow up your phone for weeks whilst you ignored him. Bravo!”

Jackson guffawed at the expense of Jo, who pursed her lips tightly as she did not appreciate her friend and her friends new fling laughing at her and the way she decided to live her life. “I like sex … not relationships, what’s the big deal?” she scowled, grabbing the bottle of water that she had left on the coffee table and taking a gulp.

Lexie knew the exact reason why Jo was so sceptical when it came to letting herself fall for someone, she was the one who seen it first-hand after all. Lexie was the one who held Jo’s hair back as she threw up into the toilet, sick with fear and severe heartache. It wasn’t something she ever wanted to re-live, the feel of her best friend’s small frame wracked and shaking with sobs, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want Jo to put herself back out there. It had been long enough.

Shrugging, Lexie throws the now empty packet of crisps to Jackson, who knowingly scrunches the bag into a ball and shoots for the bin in the corner of the living area—it was his party trick, he never missed a shot. “I saw the way you were looking at him last night, you should call him.”

Jo’s face scrunched up in disgust, not liking what was being implied and wondering how the hell they ended up on this topic of conversation as she let her body flop against the couch. “He didn’t leave his number,” Jo informed, shaking her head subtly as she felt her curls brush against her cheeks at the movement. Lexie shooting her a sad smile at the statement, she felt the need to reassure her even if she herself felt fine, “because it was a one-time thing.”

It didn’t matter how much Jo had wished he had, because he hadn’t and that was that—she wouldn’t let herself get hung up on what she had thought was amazing sex.

“No, but seriously,” Lexie said as she got up from her seat and she shot Jo one last serious expression. “Not every guy is gonna’ be like Jason; I don’t want to see you alone forever.”

Jo’s brows lowered in an almost offended frown. “I’m not going to be alone forever.” Then with a sigh, she added, “I honestly don’t know what I want, alright? I just don’t feel like I’m up for dating.”

Her body involuntarily tensed at the sound of Jason’s name, but she thinks she hid it well, Lexie didn’t raise a sceptical eyebrow at her. She doesn’t believe that anything can end as badly as the way she and Jason had—that had never been her fear. It was the idea of falling for someone so deeply that you give them the chance to hurt you in a way you can’t eat, sleep, or get out of bed. The thought alone brought back the memories and left her feeling sick.

She didn’t ever want to feel like that again; so, she kept herself guarded. It wasn’t that she enjoyed being alone, she was just careful. Anyway, she was more concerned with finishing at the top of her class anyway.

Jackson snorted, quirking an eyebrow as he followed Lexie’s actions, getting up from his seat and walking towards her bedroom door. “If you change your mind then I know a great guy, we work—” He’s cut off when Lexie stomps over to him and pushes him through the doorway, sending Jo an apologetic look.

“All of your work friends are assholes.”

“Whose Jason?”

Jo laughs lightly as she hears their conversation through the thin wall, gaze lowering to her water bottle as she’s left in silence, the only sound came from the forgotten television show blaring from the TV. They had no idea how Jo had been feeling about the night before. Neither did she. She was already hooked, on the sex, but at least that was something rather than usual void she felt afterwards.

She wondered if he was thinking the same. If he couldn’t stop thinking about her, in any aspect, and that alone was enough to have Jo realize that Alex was definitely not like the other guys she’s slept with. Everything with him seemed so different, as if it was the first time she was doing anything like that with a guy—save for any awkward amateur fumbling, they had been in complete sync. So, she let herself wonder … wonder if he thought if her skin was soft under his hands and lips, her own lips so sweet and addictive that he craved to taste her again while the way she worked them could be described as nothing but sinful.

Jo was decided, she wanted something physical with someone she trusted and someone who made her skin feel like it was on fire. Like a flame was being ignited, and she wanted it with him. She hoped that she would see him at the bar again, or maybe they would accidentally collide into each other as they both went for their daily run, or they possibly could bump hands as they both reach up for a bag of the same chips at the supermarket.

Oh god, Jo groans to herself. Her distraction hadn’t supposed to linger like this—she had schoolwork to complete, yet that hadn’t even crossed her mind. Jo needed to focus but it was just so damn hard to focus when she couldn’t get the image of his moaning, writhing and pleasure-filled expression out of her head. This was going to be hard.

No damn pun intended.

#jolex #jo wilson #alex karev

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 4 years

Text

FIC: Almost Finished My Tasks

---

The incomprehensible scream that ran through every other headset before Charlie’s tirade began to reach higher and higher pitches, a fever pitch of frustration and accusations, as the discussion time slowly counted down.

“Oh that-” “Don’t you dare!” “That was so unfortu-” “NO! NO! You can’t do this again!” “-nate! Right as I walked in! Right as I walked in!”

“Don’t you dare do it again, you blonde bitch-” Charlie hissed harshly, as the count down entered voting time and then there was a sharp intake of breath. “OH YOU FUCKING WHIPPED ASSHOLE!”

Grey hissed back quietly for a second as he unmuted his mic for a moment. “Everyone knows the rules, Charlie-”

“You mean your self-imposed one that anyone dares suggest your gal who just vented in front of me is an imposter gets voted?” Charlie snapped back, and the sound of a can of pop opening came through the speakers. “She vented!”

“Oh no no no,” Jo’s voice cut through over Sam and the Ghostfacer boys chiming up with queries to cover over them. “How are you about to spin this?”

"Spin what?! You fucking vented!" "Uh huh, and tell us all what I did next will ya, Charles?" "You chased me to the button!!!"

Jo's noncommittal hum echoed into the quiet that came after Charlie's screech, before the bemused tone bounced through to everyone again. "So, good summation of exactly what happened except for how you were the one that vented and chased me."

The clock ticked down, and the questions continued to flow as Charlie raged on an on until the last vote was cast and she'd successfully infuriated, annoyed or unconvinced everyone into voting for her - only for her fury to be justified just five minutes later when the announcement of a crewmate failure and the success of Jo's White and Ombre's Pink imposters winning the round.

---

“Harry~” Shada’s voice carried over Dean and Garth’s back and forth trying to decipher where everyone’s locations had been against what they’d seen, to get a surprised ‘huh’ from the researcher. “Do you have any tasks in Electrical to do? I don’t want to go in alone. It’s scary~.”

“Uh, I don’t-” “Well, could you come with me and watch my back, and then we’ll go to your tasks the round after?” “Um, I guess so?”

“Thaaaanks~!” Shada’s singsong cut over as the progress time ticked down after no one had been ejected and most except for the odd suspicious vote was skipped.

The fact that Brown was found the round after murdered in Communications and Shada cried tearfully that she lost him during the lights down wasn’t noted until it was Garth, Shada, Dean and Grey left at the end. The imposter win when Dean refused to believe the deadly purple-bean and found himself and Garth dead before the end of the next round was of explosive arguments afterwards.

---

“How the fuck was it you two?” “Fucking Ghostfacer bullshit-” “That was such a good game!”

“Hell yeah, Team Ghostfacer!” Ed’s cheer came through loudly as the Imposter win for both him and Harry was clearly displayed. “Thanks Spruce for being third-”

There was a deep chuckle and the sound of a beer can cracking before the ‘third imposter’ cut through. “Hey, if it is a Ghostfacer win then I get to share in it. That’s fine by me.”

“That’s cause youre six beers in-” Charlie’s quip cut through before there was a bunch of laughter coming through from the rest of the group as they reset to the lobby. “Ah well, at least we know that the three of you are in cahoots next time.”

That the next round was a crewmate win with Spruce’s Orange and Ed’s Yellow missing while Harry’s Brown had been killed in the very first round brought about it’s own round of angry screaming about how dare the Ghostfacers break up again.

---

The report came in, and while the silence settled as the graphics faded and showed the reporter and the only dead crewmate of the game - it stretched out for a long five seconds.

“Um-” Dean’s voice came through first as the tension continued to build, before being cut off by a darkened growl.

As the sound tailed off, Grey cleared his throat quietly before speaking. His tone deadly serious. “So, which of you killed my girlfriend?”

“Where did you find her?” Dean asked, the only one willing to speak up at the looming threat that had been echoing through the other’s tone. “I was in Admin and had seen people in-”

“I found her in Medbay.” Grey’s tone was grumbled and angry, before there was a shift to a sadness that made all the others cringe quietly. “She was just... lying there...on the scanner. She was doing her job and someone got her killed.” There was a pause, and then an accusatory tone began to bleed into the words. “Perhaps we start with-”

“Brother! It’s a game.” Shada cut over him, and then the awkward, uncomfortable giggle came over the top. “But lets start with who was where. I was in Navigation with Harry and Ombre.”

“Yep! I was doing the zoomies-” “She means charting the course.” “Yeah, the zoomies!” “And I was on wires while Shada was doing them as well.”

“I was up in O2.” Garth said quietly, before adding, “And I had been in weapons just before doing my download.”

“I saw him there, and also Ed.” Spruce chimed in, the sound of a drink being taken before he added. “We were in Cafeteria and then went to Weapons.”

“Stupid garbage, right? I went to asteroids and then Spruce was doing download as well.” Ed said as well, and then there sounded a drumming of fingers and scratching papers before he added suspiciously. “Charlie?”

“I was in Cafeteria doing the first garbage after Ed and then went down to Storage!” Charlie chirped up, before there was a pause and then. “Dean... Where were you?”

“I said I was in Admin.”

“Doing what?” Grey snapped as the clock ticked down. “Watching where everyone was to vent your way in and kill her when she was in the midst of a scan? Vented leaving me to find her body?!”

“Where were you-” “That sounds mighty suspicious, Dean-” “I think it must have been him.” “Wouldn’t be the first time-”

As the votes came in and Dean was ejected, the next round started.

“So... who did it?” He asked with a growl as Dean’s ghost circled around Jo’s and the rest of the team started up again. “I bet it was Shada-”

“Nope!” Jo chirped back with a laugh. “Grey saw the perfect opportunity to get us both out of the way!”

---

“I just saw pink vent, I just saw pink vent, pink vented pink vented pink vented!”

The second the Emergency Meeting started, Harry started screeching the words through. The group as a whole fell into an array of laughter as the chant of ‘pink vented’ continued while the girl in question made surprised sounding gasps and quiet attempts to answer to the crime.

“Harry, let her talk!” Shada cut over the other’s chanting, backed up by Sam’s quiet but sleepy voice chiming in as well. “Harry, c’mon man, you gotta say more than that and let her defend herself.”

“No I do not!” Harry snapped back with a laugh, and everyone laughed along as Ombre’s giggle came in high and uncertain over the top. “I walked straight into Security and she popped right up and stood there staring at me for a moment before we ran for the button.”

“I... I-I-I... No I-I-I didn’t! I wasn’t running f-for the button! I-I-I don’t know what-”

“Ombre, sis, what happened?” Grey asked calmly as the group continued to laugh quietly as the blonde mumbled and stuttered anxiously as she spoke. “What do you say happened? Did you walk in and Harry not see right? Or what happened?”

“I...I... I was in Electrical watching...” Ombre’s words mumbled uncertainly, and she would be biting her lip, chewing on it cautiously as she told her story. “I was...was watching white and cyan and orange doing tasks-”

“That’s true, she was in Electrical as I was doing wires.” Spruce said, and Jo chimed up in agreement.

“And then?” Grey encouraged gently as the time started ticking down in the voting.

There was a pause, and then a surprised tone came through as Ombre exclaimed, “Wait! Is pressing on the button where it usually says Sabotage but then said Vent when I walked up to the wall how you Vent?!”

In the face of the childlike wonder, the laughter was utterly uncontrollable, and everyone felt bad clicking to vote pink out as Ombre giggled loudly and even Harry found himself saying “Okay guys, lets not vote her out! At least we know one of them! Let the baby play!”

---

“It has to be Jo. Come on guys, the sheer good of the plays? This has to be her.” Spruce’s voice was both determined and slurring at the same time - clearly more than a few beers in.

There was a pause before Harry chimed in, equally drunk and more than a bit giggly. “You’re right! Has to be her!”

“Totally. Team Ghostfacer wiping out the bad bit-” “Hey!” “-ch! Grey, you’re fucking dead, dude, dead people can’t talk to interject.”

Ed’s agreeing and bantering came through just as clear, and the votes came casted in from the three ex-Ghostfacers as Grey re-muted himself and Jo’s voice reached a high pitch as she squawked.

“Oh my god! No! You two!” Jo cried, hitting the table with a fist that reverberated through the mic, the drunken whine echoing through as they were the final four players left. “No no no no no, oh how could you two, you’re absolute morons, it’s not me, please!”

“Sorry Jo, but it’s totally you.” “You always murder this swiftly.” “And there were three bodies hidden in Specimen back when your-” “-fellow imposter, Garth, were body camping down there.”

“No, no no no, but it’s not me. I swear it’s not me!” Jo whined more, giving a quiet hiccup as she smacked her laptop repeatedly. “No, no-” Watching the time count down as it got towards the end, she cried some more as it appeared she was in the last seconds of count down and her body was thrown into the lava. “Nooo I’m a good bean, I promise! I was a good bean!”

Spruce’s last kill was right on the left seismic reactor, and the laughter from Garth as the game finished to the imposter win was even louder than Jo’s cries that ‘dammit I was a good fuckin’ bean!’

---

The utter demolition and destruction of the game was fierce, fast and bloody.

At the first dead body report, the gasps of shock seeing five out of ten players killed before even the first body had been found had the group as a whole stunned into silence. They couldn’t even work out who had been targeted first, and it was very quick for the group with tear at one another as soon as Jo and Ed decided that the stacking of bodies absolutely meant that the other one had to be the Imposter.

Sam’s Blue and Garth’s Red flashed up right as Ed’s body was ejected and the utter eruption at the deadly duo was beyond the expected.

---

“I cann’t believe it’s Batman.” The cry from Jo as they all joined the meeting at her reporting the body was too genuine, too distraught and too perfectly upset as the group followed her cry to throw Dean out the airlock on nothing but her cries about him living long enough to become the villain.

That the game ended showing White standing and Black’s ghost beside it - and to Dean’s screaming about Jo being a backstabbing, self-imploding Imposter did nothing but make the win all the more hilarious as Jo had continued to cry throughout the whole game about how heart broken she was, how her faith had been shaken and how Gotham was left without a light left in the dark any more.

“I just... I couldn’t believe it was Batman.” Jo sniffed quietly under Dean’s ranting as the group returned to the lobby, and Grey had already gone to get himself a drink from the kitchen and walked in to see her sniffing dramatically - even wiping away a tear despite no one else being able to see her, lips curling up into a smile at his own grin. “I couldn’t let him destroy us all. He had to die, you all know that. Die as a hero before he could kill anyone - besides, it was so much more fun killin’ all of you myself!”

---

#cc #ca #nopov

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flawlesspeasant · 4 years

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Hi! this might be really random but i used to love ur jolex au's with lyla and alex. a question I always had about them is what was jo and alex's relationship with they first had lyla? were they in a good place? or was there drama at the time when jo was pregnant w/ lyla? do u have a fic of lyla's birth? i can't remember if u did or not? if so can u post it, if not its cool:)

hello :) the question is a little random but i love it! i love it when people still remember that little universe and hear that people were attached to the jolex kids! i think it’s so cute! anyway, when jo and alex first had lyla, they were in a pretty decent place. jo was starting her fellowship and alex was still chief of peds. they were newlyweds and still in the honeymoon stage, married for less than a year when jo got pregnant.

i really thought i had written a story about lyla’s birth, but i searched my old documents and can’t seem to find it so maybe i never did write one? if i stumble across it, i’ll post it but i really can’t find it right now. the closest thing i found is an old fic of jo holding lyla and getting emotional when she is two weeks old because she thinks about being left at the fire station that young.

————————

When her feet touched down on the fuzzy, soft fleece rug beside her and Alex’s bed, Jo felt the bones in her legs shift and crack. Her mouth opened and she uttered a loud, voracious yawn before rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands and stretching out her arms. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the bedside alarm clock and she sighed when she saw that it was only a measly 7:30 in the morning. She exhaled sharply, blowing air through her nose, and eventually stood up.

She wasn't surprised when she saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Alex’s shift started at 8:15, so it made sense that he was already up and moving for the day. Slowly, she dragged her very tired feet over to her laundry basket and leaned down to grab the pair of pajama pants she wore last night off the top. It had been two weeks. Two weeks since she had gotten proper rest, two weeks since she fell asleep at a decent hour and two weeks that she had been living like a zombie. Two weeks and she still wasn't on a schedule. She didn't want to admit it to anyone, much less herself, but she doubted that it’d ever happen. If the baby wasn't on a schedule yet, she probably never would get on one.

Jo shoved her legs through the holes of her pants and tied the drawstrings around her waist as she walked towards the bathroom, all the while tugging her chest-length brunette hair up into a leisurely ponytail. Each time she yanked her hair up, she reminded herself to never cut it again. Growing it out was too much of a hassle. She cut it way back when she was still a resident and now, two-almost-three years later, it still wasn't back to its original length. Picking the sleep-induced crust from the corners of her eyes, she yawned again as she rounded the corner into the bathroom, which was already illuminated and occupied by Alex.

Alex stood at the sink feverishly darting a toothbrush in and out of his mouth while the foamy toothpaste trickled out the sides. He hardly noticed Jo when she eased into the bathroom behind him, going immediately to the toilet. When he did notice her, she was sitting on it and releasing her bladder. He rinsed his mouth, shut off the spigot and looked at her.

“Rough morning already?”

Jo looked up at him with a tired expression and just weakly nodded her head. She didn't like admitting to him exactly how tired she was but dammit, she couldn't lie. Alex secretly reveled in her being tired because well...Jo being tired meant he was right and Jo hated when he would look at her with that smug little “I told you so” look. He tried to warn her months ago just how tiring newborn babies could be. So she didn't listen to him? Big deal. In hindsight though, she was really starting to wish she had taken him a little more seriously.

She wiped herself, got up off the toilet, flushed and bumped Alex out of the way so she could wash her hands. Alex hung the small towelette back up on the rack and leaned in. He pressed his lips to Jo’s cheek and grinned.

“I'll go get her up for you,” he offered and turned to leave the bathroom, already dressed and ready for work.

“Just make her bottle,” Jo murmured back as she dried her hands on the same towelette he just hung up. “I'll get her.”

“Got it,” Alex nodded and padded down the hallway.

Truthfully, she envied him. She envied the way he didn't have to get up at ungodly hours of the morning for feedings because he got to go to work. And she secretly despised the fact that he didn't really need to be up right now. He could've slept in for another 20 minutes and still made it in time for work. The fact of the matter was that Alex didn't want to sleep in. He didn't want to spend extra time sleeping in the morning when he could get up half an hour earlier and have time to spend in the rocking chair, staring at his little girl. Jo wanted to slap him for taking sleeping in for granted but quite honestly, there was no other way Alex wanted to spend his time. He would rather miss out on half an hour of sleep just to have ten uninterrupted minutes holding and kissing his girl. It always made his day so much better. Secretly though? Jo loved him a little more each time she found that he’d woken up earlier just to spend time with their baby.

Once she left the bathroom, Jo dragged her still-tired feet down the long hallway and quietly opened up the nursery door. She was still getting used to having the nursery. For one, it was still weird having an extra bedroom in the loft. When she was four months pregnant, Alex had hired carpenters to install carpet and put up walls and a door to make a bedroom for their baby and it still weirded Jo out just a little to know that their was a bedroom in the loft, for one. And for two, it was still crazy to think that a baby--their baby--was behind the door.

Inside the nursery, it was dead silent and nearly completely dark with the only light spilling through the closed blinds hung in front of the window. Jo tiptoed over to the white wooden crib and placed her hands on the top bar. Before she even disturbed her though, she looked inside. And dammit, every time she did, she couldn't help but smile.

The bedding was light pink with white polka dots and around the perimeter, the crib was padded with soft Minnie Mouse themed lining. A loose, light purple, cotton blanket was the only one inside the crib since it was the middle of summertime and almost swallowed up in the sea of blankets, bedding and plush stuffed animals, a tiny little body lie.

Jo leaned down and oh-so carefully, she wrapped her arms around the tiny baby’s torso. Softly, the baby grunted at being disturbed but quickly rested once her head hit her Mommy’s chest. Naturally, Jo rested her baby’s body against her chest and supported her by bracing her hands underneath her tiny backside. It was her most favorite way to be held. She loved the immediate contact and the sound of Mommy’s heartbeat when her head was in the middle of her chest and the rest of her body was tucked away in Mommy’s arms.

“Good morning. I missed you. Yeah, I did… Mommy missed you so much.” Without hesitation, Jo tilted her head downward and planted a kiss right on the baby’s lips. “You wanna go eat? Huh? You want some breakfast? Okay… Let's go see what Daddy made you for breakfast.”

She walked slowly as she carried the baby back to the kitchen and living room. As soon as Alex caught a glimpse of Jo holding her in the doorway, he immediately put the bottle he was shaking down on the counter and approached Jo with his arms out, ready to take her. He anxiously glanced at the clock and grunted. He had fifteen minutes before he had to leave but that wasn't nearly enough. He wanted so much more time.

“Gimme,” he mumbled and gently but eagerly took the baby out of Jo’s arms. “Morning gorgeous,” he whispered to her and pressed his lips gingerly to her tiny little chubby cheek. He situated her in his arms like a seasoned professional and stared down at her like he usually did. He loved staring at her and watching her sleep. Each time he looked at her, there was something new. Something that he’d never seen before. Yesterday he noticed the freckle by her hairline, the day before that was the slight dimple in her chin. Each day, she got more and more beautiful. “Her hair’s different today,” he observed as he took her hand into his and rubbed it. “It's… It's lighter.”

“You think?” Jo raised her eyebrows even though she was over at the sink running hot water along the outside of the bottle to keep it warm. “It was looking pretty brown yesterday.”

“No, it's definitely lighter today. She's gonna be blonde,” Alex said with confidence as he pressed his lips to the palm of her hand. In his arms, she squirmed a little and her tiny face cracked up as her feet began to rub against one another. “Shh shhh shhh shhh,” he hushed her. “It's alright… Daddy’s gotcha.”

“You wanna feed her?” Jo asked as she approached the two of them again, still wiping off the bottle. “It'll give me some time to grab her a new diaper and stuff if you do.”

“Yeah I'll do it.” Alex took the bottle from Jo’s hand and walked with it, over to the couch. He sat down slowly and like he’d been doing it his whole life, he eased the bottle’s nipple into her mouth and held it there for her to suck. He truly was a natural at it. It was just something so easy and natural for him. It was almost as if he was born to do it. “There we go. That's all better, isn't it?”

While she sucked, the baby’s eyes slowly parted and they popped open. Her glassy blue/green eyes roamed a bit but eventually, they fixated on him and she looked directly at him while she sucked.

“Still blue,” he mumbled to himself, smiling before he spoke up. “Hey Jo, her eyes are still blue.”

Jo returned from the nursery with a diaper and a package of wipes in tow. She smirked and plopped down on the couch next to them to see for herself. Gently, she pressed her fingertip to the corner of her baby’s eye and cleaned out an eye booger. “They are still blue, huh? I don't know where the hell she came from. I’m starting to think she's not really my baby.”

“She's yours. It's all in the face. The nose, the eye shape, that forehead and those big-ass ears. All you,” Alex teased and Jo swatted him. “But she's a Karev. Got Amber’s blonde hair and Mom’s blue eyes… That's that Karev in her.”

“I had a blonde baby,” Jo snickered. “Me… Jo Wilson… Brunette hair, brown eyes… Produced a baby with blonde hair and blue eyes. What the hell is that?”

“Eh if she's anything like Amb, she won't be too blonde. It'll be borderline brown but blonde. Like a gold kind of color. And she won't have bright blue eyes… They'll be a little green too.” Alex just stared and grinned. “She's pretty.”

“She's beautiful,” Jo agreed. “Lyla… Lyla. Look at Mommy, baby. Look at Mommy.” Jo held her hand and kissed it. “...Can you believe it's been two weeks? She's two weeks old exactly today.”

Reluctantly, Alex pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed once he realized that it was time for him to get up and head to work. Since it was empty, he eased the bottle out of Lyla’s mouth and caught the excess milk she pushed out with the fabric of her sleeper. Despite the milk on her lips, he kissed them and graciously handed her off to Jo.

“There you go,” he mumbled. “She's fat, full and dusted eight ounces of boob juice. I've gotta go now though.”

“Alright,” Jo nodded and immediately placed Lyla on her shoulder so she could be burped. For as much as she worried about it while she was pregnant, Jo truly did turn into the idyllic mother. Everything she did was natural but at times, like last week at her check-up when she took her outside without socks on, she was a little bit clueless on what to do with a baby. She was getting the hang of it though. She was a quick learner. “Have a nice first day back. Call me on your lunch hour.”

“I will,” Alex promised and without another word, he disappeared out the door.

Now alone, Jo continued to rub and pat her baby’s back but she looked around the loft and sighed. It was his first day back. Ergo, it was the first time in two weeks that she’d be alone all day with the baby. She wouldn't admit it to Alex but now that she was alone, she could say it. She, was nervous and a little bit scared. Alex always knew what to do. He was so much better at this whole parenting thing than she was. If Lyla was crying, he automatically knew what it was that she wanted. He had been her backbone for two whole weeks and now…

She took a deep breath and relaxed. I can do this, she thought to herself. She carefully took Lyla off of her shoulder and immediately smiled once she saw that her eyes were still wide open.

“Hello!” she crooned in a sweet little baby voice. “Hi beautiful. Hi. It's just you and me today, yep. Just you and Mama. We’ll have a girl’s day, okay? We’ll stay up real late, paint our toenails… Talk about boys…” She gently laid Lyla down on the couch in front of her and undid her onesie buttons. “...I'm a little clueless, okay? I'm not as good as Daddy. But I promise I'll get it together. And we’ll have lots and lots of fun together, okay?”

Lyla just looked at her with an expressionless face. She kicked her feet a little and brought her fists up to her mouth, which made Jo laugh as she took her diaper off.

“You can't still be hungry. You're such a fatty.” Jo leaned over and swept a pacifier up off the coffee table. She stuck it in her own mouth for a moment before putting it in her daughter’s. “Here, take that.”

With the baby quiet and content, Jo relaxed and changed her diaper with ease. Admittedly, she was horrible at this at first. She’d put the diapers on backwards, put the diapers on too loose. Lyla’s buttcheek would be hanging out the bottom or she’d pee right through it because it was on crooked. These days, Jo was better though. She changed a nearly flawless diaper each time. Once she was fully clean, Jo scooped her back up, set the soiled diaper on the coffee table and situated herself to be comfortable on the couch.

“You wanna watch TV with me? Let's watch… I dunno, let's watch Rachael Ray. And you can look at all the stuff your Mommy will never be able to cook for you.”

Jo turned the TV on and let whatever channel it was already on play. With Lyla on her chest, she combed her fingers through her light brown hair with one hand and used the other to pat her butt. Lyla closed her eyes and sucked on her pacifier and listened to Jo’s heartbeat until she was on her way back to sleep.

Subconsciously, Jo’s thoughts were reeling and she remained blankly staring at the television screen whilst her mind was moving at a thousand miles a minute. Today felt… Weird. Today was different. And she knew exactly why.

Today, her sweet little Lyla was two weeks old.

And in this two weeks, she watched her baby go from a bloody mess with matted, slick wavy hair to a cream-skinned, chubby cheeked beauty with fluffy light brown hair. She watched her hands turn from a haunting shade of blue to the usual shade of blotchy red and Caucasian skin. She watched her eyes go from a glossy shade of gray to a haunting shade of blue. She watched her umbilical stump dry up and fall off, watched her become more familiar with her and Alex’s voices and watched her grow and change each time she was fortunate enough to get her to latch onto her breast for a feeding.

And now today… She was holding her on her chest and she couldn't imagine her life any other way. She couldn't imagine this… This bond being broken. It was incredible. It was unfathomable. The way she felt so connected to this tiny lump of flesh, blood, bones and hair. The way she would easily lie down and take a bullet through the brain for this person. The way she never felt something so strong. The kind of love she didn't even know existed until she met this little person. It was incredible. And today… Today was the first time that she just didn't understand.

In her entire 31 years of being alive, she had lost count exactly how many times she told herself and others that she didn't understand. Didn't understand how one child could have two parents that didn't love it. How a mother couldn't love their baby. How a mother could just leave. She told herself and others countless times that she just didn't understand.

But now, she really didn't understand. How could someone feel this and let it go? How could someone look into innocent little eyes and not feel so much love? How could someone just make the conscious decision to leave their child? And worse yet, go through with it? How could someone just...not care?

She couldn't imagine that. She couldn't imagine Lyla not being on her chest. After carrying her for nine months? After watching her body stretch and grow to accommodate this blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty? After twelve grueling hours of labor? After feeling the doctors rubbing her dry on her chest? After watching Alex clamp and cut her umbilical cord himself? After looking into her pair of tiny little eyes and know that everything she ever did and ever will be affects her?

She was this small once.

Once upon a time, there was a little baby Jo Wilson. And at two weeks old, she wasn't snuggling and sleeping peacefully on her Mommy’s chest. No, at two weeks old, she was shivering. She was crying. In the middle of the night. In a stroller. With a blanket. Abandoned, discarded, unloved. That was her life at two weeks old. And for the first time in her entire life, she truly didn't understand.

With a single salty tear now rolling down her cheek, Jo pulled herself out of her thoughts and wiped it away with the back of her hand. She looked down at her chest, only to find that Lyla was now fast asleep and content to be so on her chest. And she smiled. Because her daughter wasn't her. Her daughter wasn't in a stroller next to a dumpster outside of a fire station abandoned and left to the wolves at two weeks old. No. At two weeks old, her own daughter was on her chest and that's where she would stay. For the remainder of the day, her daughter would stay right on her chest like this.

“I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her lips to the top of Lyla’s fluffy patch of hair. “So much.”

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iloveleonardcohen · 5 years

Text

What a Feeling // Freddie Mercury

1 2 3 4

Pairing: Freddie Mercury and Katy Newton (OC)

Summary: Before she moved from London to New York at the age of thirteen, Katy Newton had always been friends with Brian May. He was the only one she knew who encouraged her creative side, especially her designs for fashion and makeup. So much so, that Katy is hired as Queen’s newest stylist. But what she doesn’t expect is her knew found friend, Freddie Mercury. Will their casual flirts lead to anything of substance? Or will their relationship just become another lost love as they both make their journey towards self acceptance.

Warnings: there will be smut eventually but not in this chapter, bisexuality (?), feels, mentions of alcohol and drugs

CHAPTER FIVE

Katy woke up the next morning with a horrible headache and one of the worst hangovers she had ever had to endure. She was lying face down into her pillow, drool slowly dripping onto her pink sheets and her dark blue hair was sticking out in all different directions. Her makeup was obviously ruined and she had passed out in the shirt that Roger had ruined the night before. She was lucky she even made it to bed, her drunken stupor had been something of a sight to see, she must have tried to make herself some food when she had first returned because there was a bowl of uncooked pasta on her nightstand with what looked like was cheese on top, the explanation for this escaped her. Today was going to be a hard day, and this was not the cutest start to it. She was going to have to say goodbye to her family and one of her best friends, but she knew she had to. The prospect of leaving one family to find her own was scary but exciting, bitter sweet.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on her door. Before she could respond, and the chances of her doing so were slim, the door peaked open a little bit and then fully when her dog came trotting in and started to lick her hand, which was hanging off the right side of her bed. James came in slowly after, he didn’t want to bother her, but at the same time he wanted to see his older sister as much as he could before her departure.

He was carrying a tray and set it down on her nightstand, moving the weird attempt at mac and cheese farther away. He had tried to make Katy a “hangover cure” breakfast, one with eggs and orange juice and everything the tv used to tell him was important. He didn’t know what she had been up to last night, but he wasn’t too naive either.

Katy got up slowly, stretching and yawning loudly before finally turning to James, when she did, her eyes widened and she smiled. She couldn’t ask for a better little brother. Her older brother, Daniel, still wasn’t aware of Katy’s sudden change in plans, but she knew that the tour stopped Chicago where he and his fiancé lived she could stop by.

“Thank you, J! And thank you too, Rocky!” She patted her dogs head, she would really miss him, and of course hugged her brother. After eating her breakfast and catching up about everything with James, (how he should talk to a girl he fancied, how his classes were going, the typical problems of a thirteen year old boy), she shooed him away and got up to get dressed. She put on a dark green flowing dress that had small white flowers on it and braided her hair.

Walking down the stairs felt different this time, better than ever before. Guessing that her mother would be reading the newspaper at the kitchen table and knowing that she wasn’t looking for job for Katy anymore. As she made her way down, her bare feet sinking into the fuzz dark purple carpet, she heard some familiar voices chatting with her mother. She smiled, Jo was talking to Mrs. Newton about how amazing an opportunity this was for Katy and that she deserved to go, Katy felt her face flushing, could not have a better friend. Downstairs, Mrs. Newton was nodding her head, but in her heart she was unsure about letting her daughter go, worried for her safety and financial security. But no matter where, when, or why, Jo was always the voice of reason and Katy was unbelievably thankful for that. She was going to miss Jo more than anything and promised her that she would call every day, even if it started to annoy Jo.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Newton. You know me, I’ll be doing Dan’s job for him, Katy can be and already is the annoying little sister I never realized I needed” there was a second voice talking now other from Jo’s, Brian must have also decided to come see Katy say goodbye. In reality, the two of them had arrived at the Newton’s apartment fairly early, forty five minutes before Katy had even started to stirr. They both wanted to be the one to drive her to the tour site and when they saw each other’s cars driving towards her building in the opposite directions of each other, it was a site to see but they both in the end still wanted to be the one to drive Katy.

They decided to talk for the first half hour, sitting on the hood of Brian’s car about how annoying Roger could be when he’s drunk. Brian eventually gave in to Jo’s stories about her friendship with Katy and agreed to let Katy ride with Jo and trail behind him as he lead them in his car to the studio. But that was forty five minutes ago, they had been taking turns trying to calm down Clara for the last fifteen.

When Katy peaked her head from around the banister, Brian smiled, extremely happy to see her, and Jo sighed, extremely happy to not have to make small talk with Mrs. Newton anymore, she had asked Jo a few times about any boys she was interested in. Jo had said “Never, well maybe Rog but” and Mrs. Newton just laughed, thinking Jo was shy.

“Morning Mum” Katy smiled and walked over, kissing her mother on the cheek and taking a seat next to her on the couch. She poured herself a cup of tea from the teapot on the coffee table and sipped slowly, noticing Brian had taken one as well.

“Morning Kathryn, or should I say afternoon” Mrs. Newton smiled softly, she fixed her graying brown hair and chuckled in an attempt to distract herself from her real emotions.

“When are you leaving?” her smile began to fade, as she took a look at the clock.

“Well, actually” Brian coughed a little awkwardly, not liking to be the bearer of bad news. “We’ve got to be leaving quite soon, we head out for Detroit tonight and we still have to get Katy’s paperwork sorted out.”

“How soon is soon?” Jo asked, turning her head to face Brian, she was sitting next to him. “We should head over to the studio, like” Brian checked his watch “five minutes ago, shit” he said. When he realized he had cursed, his hand flew to his mouth, remembering when he was little how Clara would yell at him for swearing. She just laughed and shook her head “you’re an adult now, Brian, it’s okay, and a rock star at that. And Kathryn, I don’t want to make you any more late than you already are on your first day. If you are going to do this job, you are going to do it well” her mother tried to hold it together, but by the end of her speech there were tears forming in her eyes. Katy gave her mother the biggest hug she had in awhile, and then headed upstairs to collect her things.

“Brian, I hope you know I’m staying with you guys until the second you leave for the airport” Jo whispered while the two of them waited for Katy to return with her luggage.

“Oh, I figured” he shrugged “Rog will be happy to see you”

“I’m sure he will”

Katy returned, struggling to carry her bright red square suitcase; Brian got up quickly to help her before she stumbled, and Mrs. Newton put her hands over her heart and looked at Jo, who just rolled her eyes.

“Thanks, Bri. I’d say I could handle it, but there are a LOT of heels in there” Katy laughed, shaking her hands that were now free of the heavy weight.

“Yeah, I got that” Brian grunted, struggling a little bit himself as he headed out the front door that Jo held open for him, following behind him as he walked downstairs to go wait in the car.

Katy said her goodbyes to her mother, and James. They were sad of course, but also full of a new hope for the future, one different from any she had felt before. Her father had passed a few years back from cancer, he was a strong lawyer like her mother but he had a softer more artistic side that her mother lacked. He would have been proud of her, Katy and her mother knew that, they cried in the doorway, arms holding each other tightly, not wanting to let go.

Finally, she did, she ruffled James’ hair and then hugged him too.

“Promise to call me if Suzie says something to you, okay?” she whispered in his ear, causing his face to turn red.

“James? Who is Suzie?” their mother asked, putting her hands on her hips. James shot her a look but at the end of the day, it had been the conversation point that ended her mother’s tears. She gave both of them one final hug goodbye and headed out the door, to see both Brian and Jo waiting in their cars but trying to talk to each other about directions by yelling from out their open windows. Katy just shook her head and laughed, running down her steps. She turned around and took one final look before hopping into Jo’s car, she could hear Rocky barking in the distance, and the sound of the tv turning on. She would miss them, she would miss New York, but she was beyond excited for her future.

During the car ride, Katy and Jo could not stop talking about everything.

“Who knows, you might even meet someone” Jo raised her eyebrows, she had just finished ranting about how beautiful Michelle had looked last night and realized it was making Katy quiet and look out the window.

“What about John, eh? You guys were talking a lot last night, or you know I’m sure you might run into the right type of girl more than once, who knows. Right?” Jo said haphazardly, her car following Brian’s slow one, he was unsure about driving in America and right now was really regretting it. He had hoped Katy would drive back. Katy’s face was red, she played with her hands. “I don’t know, I think John and I have a lot in common and I’d rather be his friend” Katy said, she chose to ignore the second part. For some reason she was unable to come to terms with her feelings and sexuality, it was confusing and she’d rather not think about it.

“You know,” Katy started, turning to Jo. “we’re doing a show in Milwaukee, maybe if you’re up for it” Jo started to grip the steering wheel a little. It was her turn to be uncomfortable. Jo had grown up in Milwaukee, where her family still was. Katy had first met her when she was kicked out of her house, she had a black eye and was trying to give herself stitches in the woman’s bathroom. The injuries were from her father, after during their family trip to New York City Jo had come out as lesbian. Her family left the city the next morning, but Jo had stayed there ever since.

“I don’t know, Katy. Maybe I’ll visit to see you but anything other than that is a different story. The flights there are always cheap” Jo sighed, and it had been years since she had seen anyone in her family.

“You don’t have to promise me anything, really I was just throwing it out there”

Jo just nodded.

They finally arrived at the tour site, it had all of the band’s trailers parked and because of the warm weather Katy was happy to be outside. She quickly spotted Freddie and Roger who were taking a smoke break, and John who was loading his luggage into the van. Freddie shot Katy a quick smile and wave, and Roger shot her a weaker one, still feeling bad about having ruined her shirt.

Jo parked and got out, running towards Roger to scare him from behind, it worked and he yelped before turning around to see her and slapping her on the shoulder. Katy headed over to Brian to help him move her stuff, although where she wanted to be was greeting Freddie.

“Newt, I just have to say it again, I couldn’t be happier that you’re coming with us” Brian smiled after they had successful packed the tour bus and were now standing inside of it feeling accomplished. The two of them hugged and let go just as the door swung open to reveal Freddie, John, their producer, and Roger and Jo trailing and bickering about something behind them. Freddie raised an eyebrow and looked at Brian, but Brian just scoffed “ew” he laughed, nudging Katy, who nudged him back harder, causing him to stumble and Freddie to burst into laughter.

“Katy Kat, I was disappointed I didn’t get a nicer greeting than just a wave” Freddie said, coming up and kissing her on the cheek. She turned red but quickly away, hoping Brian didn’t see (he did) and that he wasn’t annoyed (he stomped on Freddie’s foot when Katy wasn’t looking).

“Hi Fred” she smiled, turning back when her face had returned to its normal color. Jo shot her a confused look that quickly put two and two together, she kept her mouth quiet though.

“So your first name is Kathryn, but you go by Katy?” their manager finally spoke up, he had a contract out and was looking for a pen. “Yes, that’s Katy with a y” Katy said, she walked over to him and peaked over his shoulder, making sure it was spelt correctly.

“Why did you choose a y?” he asked out of curiosity more than anything else, handing her the pen, she took it and read the contract over.

“Y? Because she’s cute, that’s y” Freddie laughed, Jo did too but more out of amusement than anything else. Brian did not think that it was as funny as they did.

“Actually,” he said in a matter of fact tone “it’s because Kathryn is spelt with a y, but good try I guess” Roger dropped at Brian’s nonchalant manner, he just wanted to shut Freddie down, and Freddie didn’t know her at all.

“Okay Brian we get it” Jo said, she was also Katy’s best friend and not acting like this. But Brian knew the relationships that Freddie would have, and he knew how sensitive Katy was, he just was trying to look out for his best friend and prevent her heart from being broken, again. He had made the mistake of asking Katy about Harry, and after he found out the truth about him he had felt sorry for ever liking the prick. Katy hadn’t told many people, but when he left he confessed to having seen other girls before they broke up. She didn’t like the loneliness that distance made her feel and never wanted to endure it again, seldom speak about it.

After Katy signed the final papers, everyone cheered. She was officially a part of the team, and, it was time for them to start heading for JFK airport. Jo wanted to cry, but she held her tears back for the sake of her friend and her makeup. They hugged for a good five minutes before Roger finally and sadly had to pry Jo off of Katy, but they wouldn’t be able to handle it on their own.

“Promise me you’ll call?” Jo asked, her hands gripping Katy’s.

“Of course” Katy smiled and nodded her head aggressively, trying to convince Jo she would.

She sighed, as she watched from inside the van window as Jo finally got in her car sticking her hand out and waving it like a princess as she drove by.

Katy turned back to face everyone who were just chatting to each other again, this was the beginning of something new.

AN: Hi guys! I’m sorry if this chapter wasn’t the best, but now that we’ve established this story it can really get going! I am so excited to continue writing and honestly get more done during the week than I do the weekend so I hope to see chapter 6 soon! Have a lovely day :) - June

Tagged: @come-with-me-and-imagine, @runawayxwithme, @feministsatanworshipper, @axxl-rose, @strawberry--harrington

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g-w-3-d-damn · 6 years

Text

Tricky Treats and Torture Candy (Loki’s Naughty Candy Shop) Part 1

She stepped over the cracks in the drab concrete, application and resume in hand. She printed it on plain white nondescript paper. In the overcast sun, the faded gray streetlamps granted no light to the cramped shaded alley. Disrepair and neglect crept to the storefront of the Tricky Treats candy store.

She thought, the Tricky Treats Candy Store? When did that get there?

Her shoulders slumped. She'd addressed her cover letter and filled out an application for the Torture Candy Sex Shop. She'd passed the shop on several nights, spotted a Now Hiring sign, googled it, and found her way here. A similar 'now hiring' sign hung between the brightly colored candy striped pillars of the flamboyant storefront. In the window, a rainbow assortment of delights awaited purchase; colored spiral pops in purple and pink, orange caps atop magenta bottles, green candy canes, flowers of white icing atop violet petals dotted with tiny red berries their center, plus an oceanwave-like poof of cotton candies dyed blue and spun before a curtain of red Twizzlers all stood in stark contrast against the outside world full of ashen, cracked streets and the chipped, faded paints of the alley walls.

A bit of her reflection in the glass showed a childlike happiness, a glitter in her eyes at the vision of sweets. Upon seeing this reflection, she straightened her shoulders and pursed her lips as if to say Happy doesn't look right on me... Ugh, they'll probably force me to smile at this job. She sighed to herself and entered the store to apply. The job would not involve sales for the toys she loved, but she figured that at least if they hired her, she would not starve.

So she stepped across the threshold of flamboyancy and into the Tricky Treats Candy Shop, Home of the Trickster's Delight™.

Inside, pinatas of all sorts imaginable hung from the railing of the stairs to the loft, and along the loft railing as well. A gilded sign and a red velvet rope across the stairs signified that the upstairs area was reserved for employees, only. A large urn filled with decorated sticks advertized the various prices for the pinatas on display; the sticks were sold separately, and each stick did match a pinata above. Clear jars of candies assorted by color lined a rainbow wall. A sickeningly pink frilly apron hung upon a coat rack near the door. Sunlight streamed in through the window and highlighted the stacks of Heart Shaped Boxes in various states of decorative gaudiness. One heart shaped box laid open upon the workspace counter.

The workspace consisted of a reflective epoxy countertop which held an old-timey cash register and a large gumball machine, its globe filled with jawbreakers. Behind this counter sat a workbench, above which sat shelves of mysterious gift-wrapped product. An ornate four-tiered cascading chocolate fountain was anchored into the edge of the workbench. Price tags cut in little squares in pastel colors, some underlined red to denote a sale, marked the shelf under each well-organized line of colorful products. The products were eclectic in their design; A line of ceramic jars whose lids were replaced with white cloth were tied tight with red hemp. Tubs and boxes were wrapped in colorful papers and tied tight with hemp or ribbon. Stacks of round, peach colored tins with gold etched in bevels joined gold boxes with red lacquered strawberries on the shelves. White paper packages with lavender and sky blue labels sat on the shelves above a set of cabinet doors with brass handles. The thin, babyfaced man behind the counter left this cabinet door ajar, which gave her a glimpse at the rolls of tissue paper and ribbon and wrapping supplies within. The man snipped a bit of gaudy ribbon, neon orange with a magenta stripe down it's center. He slipped the ribbon between his elegant pale thumb and the edge of his sharp silver scissors, and pulled. The ribbon hissed as it slipped between the pad of this thumb and the bladed edge, and curled beautifully at the end of the scrape. He wound this ribbon onto an equally gaudy heart shaped box before the tiny bell above the door jingled and caused him to look up at her. She wondered why the bell failed to jingle when she first arrived. Little did she know, he wondered the same thing.

“My apologies,” he said, “I didn't hear you come in, may I help you find something?”

“I'm... looking for a job if you know where I can find one of those,” she said.

“A jo- Oh, right, the hiring sign,” he said.

He sighed as if he wished someone else he knew would have applied for the job sooner.

“Well,” he said, “let me see your application. You did bring one, yes?”

“Yes, but um, it was for, hey wait!” she said.

He plucked the papers out of her hand and read over them. And as he read, his smirk grew.

“Okay dude, look, I was looking for this other place, google said it was right here, and here it isn't, but I still need a job, so-”

“I can't accept this application,” he said.

“Is it because it's for the other place?” she asked.

“What other place?” he asked.

“You know, the sex shop?” she said.

“Oh, no the sex shop is not a problem. Why would the sex shop be a problem?” he asked.

“I mean, it's not a problem, that's the job I wanted,” she said.

“Hmm. Anyway, I'm afraid I can't accept an application without a name on it,” he said.

“Excuse me?” She said.

He turned the application around to reveal the fields for a first and last name were both blank. The sight took her aback. She knew she wrote her name on the application, it was the first thing she did after printing it out.

“Oh, well, I have a pen, may I have the application back and I'll scribble that information in,” she suggested.

“You know it's quite unprofessional, to give an application, resume, and cover letter, all without a name,” he chuckled.

“Quit messin' with me,” she said.

He turned around her resume and cover letter. Where she had once printed her name in the header in large font capital letters, nothing had printed. At the end of her cover letter, the last word was “Regards,” without a name written afterwards. She wondered if she was dreaming, or if she'd had a seizure or stroke at an early age.

“You know, if you don't want them knowing your real name at the sex shop, you can use a fake name,” he suggested.

“Uh, I don't mind if they know my real name,” she said, “they kinda need that for tax purposes, right?”

“Not really. Do you perhaps have a stripper name?”

“A what?”

“A stripper name. A street name? A … sex toy worker name? Hell, even a tumblr username?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because we have to put something on this application before you can turn it into the sex shop, and your real name just won't do,” he said, “So, what would you like to be called.... Miss?”

“Communication is usually my strong suit, I apologize, let me just think-”

“Miss Communication, it is, then,” Loki said.

He scribbled Miss Communication on her application.

“Uh...” she stammered.

“Mind if I call you Miss Cum, for short?” He asked.

She burst out laughing.

“Sure, that's fine, just put down whatever you think will land me the job,” she said.

She reached her hand out to him, with the intent of shaking hands.

“So Hi, I'm Miss Communication! Apparently, I answer to Miss, or Come. What's your name?” she asked.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles gently.

“Loki,” he said.

The magic bell tinkled frantically. Loki looked past Miss' shoulder and squeezed her fingertips in excitement.

“And here comes our most important customer!” he whispered.

He dropped her hand, stood up straight, and brushed his hair back over his ears. Miss turned, but saw no one in the shop.

“Quick, hide yourself,” Loki said.

“Eh, what?” she said.

Loki pulled her behind the counter and pressed for her to stay down. A shadow passed over the door, and in walked a tall, broad shouldered man with long thick hair and ice blue eyes. He greeted Loki with a thunderous voice.

“Hello again!” the man said!

“Ah, Thor! Welcome back! How are you today?”

“I'm well! Thank you for asking,” Thor said.

Miss peeked over the counter. She lost the will to hide upon seeing the tan muscular man's broad smile.

“Holy shit,” she said as she popped up from behind the counter.

“Oh, hello!” Thor said.

Loki cleared his throat.

“Thor, this is Miss, Miss, Thor. Miss, could you go run the IC inventory in the stockroom for me?” Loki said.

“Hi,” Miss said to Thor.

Under the counter, Loki pushed her away from them.

“Get lost, I have work to do,” Loki muttered.

“Uh huh,” Miss said.

Thor smiled, looked at his feet and scoffed to himself. He looked back to the pair, locked eyes with Miss, and spoke eagerly.

“So I came by to pick up something special for my girlfriend,” he said.

Miss' jaw tightened in pained disappointment as Thor emphasized the word girlfriend, however, she retained her goofy grin. Thor turned his attention onto Loki.

“And I just knew you'd have something amazing for me to give her,” Thor said.

“Well, I was just working on something amazing, but it's not quite done yet!” Loki said.

Loki waved his elegant hand over the gaudy heart-shaped box with the crazy magenta striped neon orange ribbon.

“Perfect! I have some time, is it a bother if I stay? I love to watch you work,” Thor crooned.

“I vote stay,” Miss said.

Loki, blushing from the compliment, elbowed her. He gave her a look that both silenced and comforted her. His look was one part “you're in no trouble, but play along,” and one part “let me handle this, I've got a plan.”

“Of course it's no bother!” Loki said to Thor.

To Miss, he whispered, “keep quiet or you're fired before you even fill out the w-4.”

Loki cleared his throat and returned to work.

“Trainees,” he scoffed, “am I right?”

Loki curled another ribbon for the gaudy heart-shaped box. He selected a cardboard insert for the box and lined it with an azure tissue paper. He side-eyed Miss as he took a gold tin with enamel cherries inlaid from the freezer. Miss looked at Thor. Thor beamed, concentrated on everything Loki did. Miss turned her attention to Loki. He removed a small red fruit, a cherry. The neglected cherry pitter rested on a hook on a pegboard near the fountain. He dipped the cherry, pit and all, into the fountain by the stem, and sat it upon a tiny circle of pinkish paper. After repeating this process six more times, he reached for a shaker full of sprinkles. Miss watched as his hand glided past the sprinkles and to what appeared to be a shaker of crushed red pepper. He shook out an even coating of the pepper, then reached for a pippete bag, filled with a hot pink icing. He wound the stem in spiral of this icing and wrapped these six up. He transferred them to six out of the thirteen divots in the cardboard spacer. He then prepared to make six more, but as Miss squinted, she noticed that whatever fruit he pulled did not look like a ripe cherry. This fruit looked wrinkled. As he pulled the next one, she spotted it clearly; these were carolina reapers.

Miss's eyes widened and she looked at Thor to see if he noticed. He had the exact same studious, unchanged beaming smile on his face as when Loki first began his work. Reapers dipped, iced, and wrapped up, six more filled the divots. Loki pulled a special clear plastic container from the stainless steel refrigerator. Inside, a piece that looked like an ornate corsage shone through with pearlescent violet petals and dewdrops crafted with boiled sugar glaze. Loki uncovered the artisenal confection, scooped it into the center of the heart-shaped box. Thor beamed.

“Beautiful,” Thor said.

“Thank you for the compliment, I am glad you enjoy it!” Loki said.

He closed up the box and sealed it with the gaudy neon ribbon. Thor took out his wallet, handed Loki some bills, received his change and left with a polite wave to Miss. She watched his sculpted ass as he left. As the magic bell tinkled to denote his exit, Miss turned to Loki with her hand in the air.

“Fuck the hell yes! Way to get my back with that mystery girlfriend, you are awesome!” she said.

“Your back? I've been poisoning this mystery bitch for months, believe me, Miss, I am doing this all for myself,” he said.

“Wait, for clarity, you gay is good, you poisoning people is bad,” she said.

“Oh please, I never send her anything I wouldn't let him eat on accident. So no, it won't kill her, not that I haven't thought about it, but I want it to make her wish she was dead,” Loki said, “so at this point I've hit her with the hottest, foulest, nastiest flavoring I can find and she still won't fucking break up with him.”

He slumped hopelessly against the counter and looked toward the door with longing.

“He must be absolutely incredible in the sack,” he said.

“Have you tried sending him back with, like, normal shit?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Like, normal, delicious chocolates, in a pretty box with a nice note,” she said.

“Why would I do that?” He asked.

“Because, I mean, he keeps bringing her what you send, doesn't that kinda mean she likes it?”

Loki sighed.

“You might be right. He's a kinky bitch, I know that,” Loki said, “it's very possible she likes the suffering.”

“How do you know he's kinky?” Miss asked.

“Work here for a couple of weeks,” Loki said, “you'll understand real quick.”

“So, does that mean I got the job?” Miss asked.

“Can you start tonight?” Loki asked.

“Uh, I mean, I'm here, so, sure, I guess?” Miss asked.

“Then you're hired,” Loki said, “go put on that apron.”

She looked to the coat rack by the door, upon which the sickeningly pink frilly apron hung. She looked back to his uniform, a striped shirt and black slacks and tie.

“I don't have to wear one if you don't,” she said.

“You're no fun,” he said.

“Look, if I'm really working here tonight, you should probably show me what I'm supposed to be doing,” she said. “Oh, you're working,” Loki said, “I was just about to take down the Now Hiring sign and lock up for the night.”

“Wait, if I'm working tonight, and you're locking up now, what am I supposed to do?”

“Training,” he said cryptically.

He walked out the door and tugged on the Now Hiring sign. He turned the hanging Open signboard to Closed on his way back inside. The neon open signs shut themselves off, and velvet curtains of deep violet descended over the windows to hide the treats within.

“Miss? I'll need you to stand over here, please,” Loki said.

He gently held her by the wrist and guided her away from the workspace. The business cards on the cash register each jumped into the air and flipped, one by one. Before the jump, each white card read “Tricky Treats Candy Shop, Home of the Trickster's Delight™!” in candyapple red ink. After the flip, the black backside of each card contained candyapple red lettering which read “Torture Candy Sex Shop” and in much smaller letters below, “(Also the Home of the Trickster's Delight™)”.

“What the theoretical fuck,” she muttered.

“Oh dear, I'm afraid I'm not accustomed to having others in the shop for the transition,” he said, “please pardon me.”

Loki pulled her against his chest just as a squadron of sexy mannequins pranced past with boxes of gear. She yelped as their chests collided. He slid his hand to the small of her back and took her other hand in his. He pushed his right toe between her feet, then kicked it out to step to the right, pushing her foot to the right in the process, causing her to step to the right along with him.

“Terribly sorry, try to keep the tip of your toes pointed towards mine, and if I push, you step back,” he said as he pushed her.

She stepped back. A mannequin bolted behind Loki, hauling the hot, still cascading chocolate fountain.

“And if I pull you, you step forward,” he instructed.

His right foot stepped backward, so she stepped forward with her left, kept the toes of her left shoe pressed against the toe of his right. He pulled her, she stepped forward as he stepped back. She collided against him as he stopped abruptly. Mannequins shot by them on every side, and when he pushed her forward again his legs spread to take impossibly long steps. She strained and reached backwards with her heels in an attempt to keep up with his wide gait. The inner seams of their pants crossed paths and built friction between their legs as they waltzed among the chaos. He pressed his back against the back of a bent mannequin, which lifted and swiveled to its left. Loki swiveled to his left, kept their backsides together, and Miss twirled to the right to compensate. The mannequin walked away and Loki swiveled again. When Miss twirled herself into place, she felt her rump brush against the edge of the counter.

“Up,” he said.

He lifted on her waist, and she bounced up to sit on the counter. He jumped up and straddled her lap with his knees on the countertop as a mannequin ran a swiffer broom beneath them. She looked at him with a face full of uncertainty at the correctness of their intimate proximity. Loki smirked. His eyebrows darted up for a instant, as he pulled away from her face and pressed against her breastbone.

“Down,” he said.

He pushed her, and her back hit flat against the countertop, as he himself hopped down and ducked below the counter until his head sunk between her open thighs. She could not see this, as her head hung free over the opposite edge of the counter. When she looked to the ceiling, just overhead, a metal bar containing many hangers full of lingerie swished over her. She sat up to find Loki's smirking face still between her legs. She pointed her finger right to the cute bridge of his pale nose.

“Not unpleasant, but not okay,” she said.

“I do hope you'll pardon the mess,” he replied, “things get a bit different in here come sundown, nothing looks the same after dark here. Not even me.”

A lollipop tree swept over his head, over her lap, and her finger caught a clear red pop. She caught it as it fell from the tree, before it could bonk Loki on the head. She looked down at him. His baby face appeared to age. The smooth, porcelain skin grew a touch more loose and porous. Parentheses like creases pressed themselves into the edges of his muzzle, crows feet imprinted at the corners of his intense eyes. The kiss of age rendered him no less attractive, only different. Miss lifted the gemlike red candy.

“Can I have this,” she asked.

He stood up, put his hands around her waist and drew her from the countertop. He took the lollipop from her and flung her towards the entrance door, but kept hold of her hand as a line of mannequins ducked down and shuffled between them under their arms. He lifted their hands and spun back into her arms. While he spun, he dropped the lollipop back into a second mobile lollipop tree and withdrew a different, teddy bear shaped pop. He unwrapped it and presented it to her.

“How about this one,” he said, “it's safer!”

“Sure,” she said.

She bit the head of the lollipop and closed her lips around its round waist. A mannequin barreled toward the two of them. Loki, wide eyed, silently asked for a little push. Miss pushed him forward as she pushed herself back out of its path. Her heel caught some unseen obstacle as she stepped back. Loki wheeled to face her, grabbed her palm as she fell, yanked her towards him, spun her back into his arms. She looked up at him wide eyed, and sucked down the cherry flavor from her teddy bear lolly. The magic bell tinkled out an alarm. The mannequin squad jumped, scrambled to their final positions. Outside the last rays of sun disappeared behind the mountains. The candies that were left on the shelves transformed into various adult novelties and sexy sundries. The assorted candies in the stacked glass bowls became individually wrapped specialty condoms, energy pills, and single use lubricant packets. Packets of Fruit Stripe Gum unwrapped themselves and reformed into striped edible underwear, as displayed on one previously nude mannequin. Packets of twizzlers unwound and tied themselves in intricate Japanese knots around a rope-bondage mannequin. The long, twisted spiral lollies in the vase turned into pyrex wands. Miss' wide eyed expression turned to one of concerned confusion as her teddy bear melted in her mouth to take the form of a small cherry red anal plug. As she continued to suck on this new-found pacifier, it provided the same cherry flavor.

“That one does look cute in you,” he said.

He stretched out a long, elegant finger and pressed the button on the butt of the plug. It wobbled, then the edges of Miss' lips blurred as the vibrator whirred. She pushed the button and it pulsed rapidly, pushed once more and it switched off. She pulled the plug from her lips with a slurp and stared at it in suspicion. Loki smirked at her, and each new wrinkle the sunset brought with it displayed itself upon his face.

“You seem shocked at the change,” Loki said.

“I'm just surprised that it's still cherry flavored, considering, y'know, where it usually goes,” she said.

She popped the plug back in her mouth and continued to suck on it. Loki chuckled.

“You're going to have a lot to learn from my clientele, I can already tell.”

------- #KristenMackWriter#@debellatis#@teck#@kingloptr#@ruleroftheworl#@adamcansuckme#@lady-loki-laufey#@godly-butt-touching#@toomanylokifeels#@timeasylum#@hailvady#@mangajuicexd#@sparkleslordofthunder

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spnbaby-67 · 6 years

Text

Craving You Epilogue.

A/N: Hi ya’ll, I have to say sorry again for something so late. this is the end of Craving you and I’m so sad to see it end. it had been a total blast writing it. but this really killed me. I dunno how much I even cried while writing it. you put so much into your characters and to see them go through so much, my heart broke. I know I am a sap, but that’s how i am with my characters. I am a HUGE Jensen fan, and he’s my heart. remember this is for pure fanfiction and should be treated as such. It’s an Alternate Universe world where Jensen is single. I want to thank you all for you amazing comments, anon comments which inspired me to keep going and finishing this series. Please do not copy and save and post on other sites and claim as yours. I don’t do that and I don’t want others doing that. it’s not fair to the original writer. But if you have questions or concerns always inbox me or send me an ask which i never hardly get, and I’ll be happy to talk with you. Please on a side note, this is UNBETA’D because I wanted to get this out to you today. I have other stories i plan to write. Let me know what you think. I forgot to mention that Gaynor @secretlyfurrydragon did have a version as well, i took some of that and added some to. She was a major help with this and without her I couldn’t have finished. She pushed me to no end to finish. Even took the time to beta some. So Thank you Gaynor, your time and considerations are very important to me. Thank you!!!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles and reader, Bobby Singer mentioned, Mark Sheppard and Mark Peligrino mentioned, Casey from season one route 666 episode mentioned. Jo OFC mentioned.

Warnings: NONE!

It’s been three months since I have seen or heard from both Jensen and Jo. Yeah they tried to call me here and there, but I would ignore there calls and text. I just wasn’t ready to hear anything they had to say, because I knew what would come next for them. For the longest time, I had even contemplated on calling them. But once I saw there face on my phone, I couldn’t do it. The flashbacks all came back to me twice as hard, that I would immediately close the phone app, then I’d toss it to the side of me sitting there with fresh set of tears. The pain of it all was still to dull, it hurt to breath kind of dull. The deep pressure building in your chest waiting for someone to pop it, kind of dull. It was just too painful and cut like a knife going through your chest. I lost everyone I cared for in a blink of an eye. If only they were honest with me from the beginning, it would be so bad. Jo of all people, i’m totally surprised by her decisions.

Every time I looked out the window at Starbucks where it all began, tears would fall. I should move. I should definitely move. I can’t tell you how many countless nights that I had cried myself to sleep, because the pain still fresh on my mind. I tried everything i could think of to get over it, but with the bullet wound to my shoulder, and this growing bump; nothing worked. Not even eating ice cream, or watching netflix movies helped. Even that had me crying. I’d get mad or upset when I saw someone else have a happy ending and wonder why I couldn’t. I mean I could if I bit the bullet and let them back into my life, but at the same time pride got in the way stopping me reminding me all over again why i wouldn't make that call. I just couldn’t take anymore, so I threw the remote to the other side of the couch and decided I needed a walk.

It was evening around 6 pm, the skies were going from a brisk sunny day to a night filled with different colors of blues, pinks, and purples cascading across like a blanket ready to tuck everyone in bed for the night. I smiled at the beautiful artwork God had created, I silently thanked him for letting me live to see the beauty in it and reminding me that life is precious. The wind blew cool and felt amazing hitting my face. I guess being cooped up inside for so long I forgot what the cool air felt like. I’m glad I brought a a small shaw with me because of the dull ache in my shoulder, I get when the weather changes like now. I’m thankful there were no permanent damages to my shoulder even though it took longer to heal. I had to undergo physical therapy and attend classes for emotional trauma while I was recovering. It was ok, I was able to get a lot of things off my chest. Not only the recent happenings, but with my mom passing and the way I was treated growing up. I still continue to go to the classes, it really does help.

Mr. Singer, did save my job for me once I was able to come back. Which was good, because I needed to get back and save money for this little one’s future. He also gave me a promotion, one that I never thought I’d ever get in my life. I am now Vice President of Singer Inc. He said I deserved it on many accounts and not just because of what had happened recently. Thankfully, he considered other options of my work and appointed accordingly. Otherwise, I doubt I would have taken the promotion based on the events that changed a lot of people’s lives including mine.

Walking across the street to get some hot chocolate, I covered my shoulders with my shawl welcoming the warmth. I squeezed my arms across my chest to shake off the shivers down my back. Remembering a time when I was little and my mom wrapped me in one of her shawls like this one, I sighed and shook my head out of the thoughts only to find myself back where it started. Standing in front of Starbucks, I took a deep breath and went in.

I quickly scanned the area because I know Jensen comes here a lot or did, and I really wasn’t in the mood to see him. Once I seen the coast was clear, I went in further to order my Vanilla Bean Frappuccino. I know I said I wanted hot chocolate, but it never fails I always get my favorite drink. I ordered, paid and got it from the barista. Turning around to go back home, I swear life played a joke on me again. I looked up and saw Jensen standing there with my Frappuccino squished between us. Deja vu anyone?

“Hi,” I said looking at him as I grabbed some napkins.

He did the same, “Hi, how are you?” he barely spoke, his voice sounded sad like he’d been crying and you can tell he had been. The look in his eyes were pain filled, red and swollen. His voice was a bit raspy.

“I’m ok, minus a Frappuccino.” I giggled a bit remembering how it started in the first place.

He ordered two drinks, then once we got them he led me over to the table we sat at and things were quiet at first, but I looked at him. “Jensen, I know things have been kind of crazy. I’m still a little pissed, but I missed you so much.” I tried to hold his hand, but he was shaking which I didn’t know if it was from the cold of the drink on his chest or just being around me.

He nodded, “I missed you to, you look great.” he bit his bottom lip almost as if he was scared to say anything. You could tell he lost weight, he was wearing my favorite red long sleeved dress shirt and that even looked big on him.

I slid closer to him, just looking at him made my heart break, did I really hurt him by not talking to him this long? I took my right hand to his cheek and made him look at me. “I love you Jensen, I do. I have not stopped loving you. But what happened was wrong, I know now you did it to protect my company and save me from getting hurt. Could it had been different? Yeah, it could. Could it made a difference if you told me up front who you were? Definitely. I know how to act, and i could have played the part had I known.” subconsciously, I rubbed my thumb on his upper jaw line.

I paused a bit, then sank back into my chair. “Mark Sheppard and Mark Pellegrino had been up my ass for two years now, I know how they operate and how they do things. I knew something was up when they hired Kali, i didn’t know she was fbi but I knew something was going on because she was in Mr. Singer’s office every day. I even knew something was up with Cassie with her attitude, Course, she just better hope she nevers sees me again, because I will punch her in the face for laying her hands on you.” I crossed my legs and took a drink of my frap, the taste going down my throat was amazing. It was like a balm coating the insides of my soar throat that burned.

He looked at me with a faint smile, “Jealous a bit?’

“Noone, and I mean no one lays a hand on my man when i’m around.” I smiled assuring him I still loved him.

He sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, damn he’s so hot when he does that. “Joking aside,” his voice was still gravely, filled with emotions. “I missed you to, not a day went by that I didn’t wish things were different. I even begged Jo to not put me in this position, she told me that she only wanted the best for her friend, her sister she loved. She wanted someone who would love you unconditionally and be there for you when you eventually found out the truth. I hated lying to you, I did. I’m so sorry you found out the way you did, I’m doubly sorry that you got hurt. A piece of me died when I saw you fall to the ground. It paralyzed me.”

He paused a bit to regain his composure, you could tell he wanted to break down and cry. “There had been many nights that I had laid awake thinking of what and how I could have done it differently. That day in the barn, when you trusted me with the blindfold on your eyes. I should have came clean then, that’s when I fully and truly fell in love with you. Something clicked inside me, telling me she’s the one. I told Jo and Jeff that night that I had to tell you the truth. Jeff told me that if I did tell you, he would have fired me and assigned you to someone who I didn’t trust. I couldn’t let that happen, and against my better judgement it backfired on me.”

I placed my hand on his that was still softly laying on my knee, he closed his eyes a moment, “Jensen, look at me.” I said softly.

Just as he opened his eyes, tears fell that he had been holding back. “I never stopped loving you, my heart went through so much and the thought of losing you now, would kill me. Especially, knowing something I know that you don’t.” I decided now was a good time to tell him he was going to be a dad, because he’s so broken up over this. Just the looks in his eyes, hurt me seeing him this way.

He sighed and looked at me.”I understand if you never want to see me again, I can live with the pain if that’s what you chose, I deserve it --” he paused after realizing I said something different than what he was thinking I was actually saying. “Wait? What do you mean especially knowing something I don’t.”

I took a deep breath, bit my bottom lip, “I’m pregnant Jensen. I’m three and a half months pregnant.” I swallowed hard waiting to the shoe to drop.

He looked like I punched him in the chest, and the breath he was holding back knocked out of him. He blinked his eyes a bit as to gain control of his site from the tears and shock. “W What? p p pregnant? As is your going to have a baby?” His bottom lip was trembling, his hand I was holding shook and his breathing picked up a bit with short breaths in between.

“Jensen, you ok?” He just continued to stare at me, the look in his face went from sad and dull looking to shock and emotionalist in a blink of an eye. I couldn’t read his expressions, my heart even skipped a few beats. “Jensen, please talk to me. You’re scaring me.”

He coughed a couple of times, to try and even say anything. You could tell this really through him for a loop. He leaned over towards me, took his right hand which at first I thought he was going to slap me. I wouldn’t have blamed him though if he did. But he placed it gently on the nap of my neck and shoulder, then pulled me closer to him for a kiss that knocked my socks off. Literally.

“As much as I want to continue this,” I said in between kissing him. “I think we need to take this to my apartment.” I pulled away from him and rested my forehead on his.

His eyes were still closed, and I could tell he was happy about the news I gave him. He nodded his head still against my forehead agreeing. “Lets,” he spoke silently and stood up.

He helped me stand up, we through away our fraps then walked to my apartment arm in arm and close oh so close together. It made the cool breezes a joy to walk in with his warmth radiating between us.

--------

The next couple of days after we had officially gotten back together, I decided that I would talk to Jo. I needed to clear the air and let her know that my life is not of her concern and I knew what I would have done if I had known. She agreed, and said that she was sorry and would not do it again. “Another thing Jo, Jeff telling Jensen he would fire him if he told me the truth. That is what really severally pissed me off. Jeff is going to hear about it when I see him.”

“I understand, and I don’t blame you. Look Y/N, I am truly sorry for everything. You mean the world to me. I didn’t want just anyone fall in love with you, I wanted the best and Jensen was the best. I hope one day you forgive him, because he does truly love you.”

“I know he does, but you could have told me what was going on as well. You know that I know how to act and get information needed. Your forgetting that we took classes in college for this crap. Even though it was a fun class, it did teach me a lot about what to expect when people turn on you.”

“Yeah, you were awesome in that. When do you go back to work?”

“Tomorrow actually, I don’t know how it will feel going back into that place after what happened. But knowing they won’t be there will be the highlight of my day. I will be making changes and additions to keep everyone safe.”

“That’s good to hear, well Jeff just got home and I’ll see you soon ok.”

“Yeah we will, we still have a lot to talk about.”

I couldn’t see her but i felt her nod her head in agreement, because I did the same. “Yes, we will. Tell Jensen hi for me, and I’m glad you two are back together.”

“Thank you, I will and you tell Jeff he’s in for a good long yelling.” I sat back sighing.

“Will do.” she said her goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Just then, Jensen came home from getting his stuff from his apartment. We are moving in together and decided mine was a bit bigger than his, since it had room enough for the baby when he or she arrived. After we put his stuff in proper places which he really didn’t have much, we sat down on the couch snuggled in each others arms.

“Did you talk to Jo?” He asked as his right hand rubbed up and down my arm.

“Hmmm, I did. We worked things out, and I told her that I still plan on talking to Jeff.” I curved my legs under me and laid my head on his chest.

“I don’t blame you, but do it after you have the baby please, I don’t want you stressed.”

I turned to look up at him with a smile. “I love you Jensen.”

He winked at me, and then bent down to kiss me. “I love you to Y/N, always.”

We had a great evening together before we both had to go to work tomorrow. Life changes in a blink of an eye, you can choose to accept things as they happen, or ignore it and let things get out of control. If anything this has taught me that I need to accept things and trust in what God had for me. Jensen is an amazing person, and I thank God everyday he sent him to me, even though it was complicated….. I love him, now and forever.

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#craving you #craving you by thomas rhett #Jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #reader insert #reader fanfiction #bobby singer #Mark Sheppard #mark pellegrino #kidnapping #pregnant reader

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asktheroyalcourt · 5 years

Text

For The Crown - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - The Contest

My eyes blinked open. Rubbing them with my palms, I sat up in bed, thoughts of dreams the night before swimming in my mind's eye. I could never remember any of them particularly clearly. I took up a small hairbrush from the arm of couch next to my bed, and ran it quickly through my short, wavy, blonde hair. I looked around my room. Nothing in it even romotely suggested that today would be one of the most extrodainary days of my life. I picked up my blue and purple glasses from the bedside table to my left, and slipped them on. It was strange. I felt like getting up today. Usually I'd sleep in for a little bit. Then I remembered my alarm. It hadn't gone off. I grabbed my phone off the bedside table next to me, flipped the cover and pushed the power button. It greeted me with a cartoon picture of a character I admired, and a small clock. It was eight-twenty-two. About time to get up. Under the clock, it said Saturday. That was the reason it hadn't gone off. It was the weekend, finally. I got up, careful not to knock into the small trestle table I kept in my room, and pulled a pair of tights and a singlet out of my pajama drawer. I went down the hallway and into the bathroom, and got changed in there. I had noticed my sister's door at the opposite end of the hallway was closed, a signal that she hadn't gotten up yet. Once I was changed, I went back to my room and put some music on my phone. Duality by Set It Off started playing. I went over to a whiteboard I kept on my desk opposite my bed. It detailed what I was doing that week, and what excercise I was supposed to do each day. I'd do twenty of each thing. 'I can't quite contain, or explain my evil ways.' 'Or explain why I'm not sane.' 'All I can say, is this is your warning,' 'I can't quite contain, or explain my evil ways.' 'Or explain why I'm not sane.' 'All I can say, is this is your warning.' 'Duality.' First thing, sit-ups. I laid down on the ground, and started. I could almost make my forehead touch my knees now. It was a great improvement. When I started doing excercise, I could barely get my upper back off the ground. That was probably already a bad sign. 'I have a confession.' 'That you would not believe, that you could not perceive, this freak, gonna set it off.' 'I have a confession.' 'Of a side that I hide, it's a cloak or disguise, unleashed, gonna get it off.' 'No, I'll never get away,' Five down, fifteen to go. 'Cause if I try to stray,' 'It only holds me closer.' 'No I'll never get away.' 'I'll have it anyway.' 'I'll never stop.' 'I can't quite contain, or explain my evil ways.' 'Or explain why I'm not sane.' 'All I can say, is this is your warning,' 'I can't quite contain, or explain my evil ways.' 'Or explain why I'm not sane.' 'All I can say, is this is your warning.' 'Duality.' 'Du-Duality.' 'Du-Duality.' Ten to go. 'I have an impression, in the back of my mind.' 'For the black in my tie, contains, our dirty thoughts.' 'Make me an obsession, when you lock me inside,' 'For the ride of your life, unleashed, gonna set it off.' Five to go. 'No, can't count the list of things,' 'I know are wrong with me.' 'No need to justify them.' 'No, I'll never take the blame.' 'So I'll just stay the same.' 'I'll never stop.' Done. I checked the next thing on the list. Crunches. Right. I laid flat on my back again, and started repeatedly curling into a ball. 'I can't quite contain, or explain my evil ways.' 'Or explain why I'm not sane.' 'All I can say, is this is your warning,' 'I can't quite contain, or explain my evil ways.' 'Or explain why I'm not sane.' 'All I can say, is this is your warning.' 'Duality.' 'Du-Duality.' 'Du-Duality.' 'I'm blind.' 'I am evil.' 'I am souless.' 'I am chaos.' 'I am human.' 'And that's all,' 'I've ever,' 'Wanted,' 'To be.' Fifteen to go. 'No, can't count the list of things,' 'I know are wrong with me.' 'No need to justify them.' 'No, I'll never get away.' 'So I'll have it anyway.' 'I'll never stop.' Ten to go. 'I can't quite contain, or explain my evil ways.' 'Or explain why I'm not sane.' 'All I can say, is this is your warning,' 'I can't quite contain, or explain my evil ways.' 'Or explain why I'm not sane.' 'All I can say, is this is your warning.' 'Duality.' 'Du-Duality.' 'Du-Duality.' Five to go. The song ended, and I paused it before finishing the last five. I didn't need to wake people up. When I did finish, I got up, grabbed some clothes out of the chest of drawers, and went into the bathroom to shower. When I done, I came back to my room to dump my pajamas back on my bed and pick up my phone. I then grabbed a black hoodie off my couch and slipped it on, putting my phone in the hoodie pocket. I looked in the mirror for a second. I was wearing black denim shorts, purple, blue, pink, and cyan coloured galaxy tights, and a purple t-shirt with the words, 'It's Me,' on it in black. My short wavy blonde hair was tucked behind my ear, and a small strand too short to tuck away hung over my glasses. I puffed out a bit of air, blowing it up and into the wavy bundle. My eyes were a light blue. Blonde hair and blue eyes were often a symbol of cletic heritage. I was proud of that. I then walked down the hallway and turned left into the kitchen. I went into the butler's pantry and grabbed some lying instant noodles. I put them in a small black bowl with words written in white on the side. 'Can't talk. Eating.' I put the noodle brick in the bowl, and filed it up with warm water. I then put the noodles in the microwave, and set the timer for five minutes, thirty seconds. I pushed go, and walked over to the widescreen computer by a bookshelve and turned it on. I logged into my user and opened a webpage. I instictively tapped N into the search bar, Netflix showing up as an instant search, but I didn't click enter. When I opened a webpage, it showed me a news spread as my homepage, and one in particular caught my eye. 'King gives up crown to contest winner!' I clicked immediately. The news article read as such. 'King Johnathon intends to step down and relinquish his crown and title to the winner of a compettition designed by the king himself.' 'Whoever wins said contest will be crowned and be the new ruler of the kingdom. Anyone is allowed to enter, as long as they can move and think.' 'If you are willing to compete, please be at the castle gates by one o'clock this coming Monday.' 'I wish good luck to all. It's going to be a lot harder than you think. -King Johnathon.' I lent back in my chair, thinking. It'd be something, that was for sure. I pressed enter and was taken to Netflix, where I clicked a show called Forensic Files. I put the contest out of my mind and wondered what horrific murder I'd learn about today. ~ The place I lived in was called, 'The Land Of Many Worlds.' Straight up Valerian stuff really. Many different types of creatures, people, and monsters alike lived here, all goverened by one king and his court. I lived in the Earth district, with my family. My mum, my dad, my little sister and my little brother. I didn't get on well with my sister Aurora most of the time, and I was almost always breaking up fights between her and my brother Owen. My dad did IT, computers and such. He was away half the time, doing work for the schools in the area. My mum stays at home with us. There are many other worlds, I couldn't even begin to count how many have joined the kingdom over the years. Creatures and aliens of all types stated to live amongst us, even in the earth district. The top of the chain, right below the king, where the Adoleans. They were magic wielders that looked human, but you soon realiesed that they were not. Then the Citetrons. They were sour and science obsessed. Their IQ was above the greatest Earth scientists, and their tchnology vouched for that. Then came the Humans, us, then there was the Anima-Beasts. Half-human, half-animal creatures. They were actually smarter than you'd give then credit for. Then the Treajans.They adored art in all it's forms. From painting to combat, nobody could best them. Then, at almost poverty status, the Make-Believers. These were creations people had created, and then left to rot. Robots, deformed animals, magical beings with no form to call it's own, test tube children who failed their creators, ect. Many, many more species existed between the levels, but many of each stayed with the Make-Believers. The contest the king had set was causing uproar. The fact that anybody could join and/or win the crown, was a fact nobody among the upperclasses appreciated. But it made the lower ones happy. It was a chance for maybe a Make-Believer to win, and give them all a better life. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want any part of it. I wanted the shot too. It was human nature, but I hoped that if I did win I wouldn't turn into some Napoleon/Hitler character. I'd rather kill myself than joing the top ten world's worst leaders. Oh wait. Hitler did kill himself. Whelp. Moving on. ~ It was Sunday, the day before the big contest was due to start. I'd asked my parents the night before if I could compete, but they didn't appear to be listening, and their default response was, 'Yeah,' or, 'Mhmm.' So I took my answer. It never said anything about dying, so I assumed it was safe. The Monday rolled around. At twelve-forty-eight I stood at the castle gates in the big city area. The castle was huge, and made of light dusty blue brick. The gates were wrought iron, and thousands of people swarmed at the gates. I saw Adoleans, Citetrons, Anima-Beasts and Make-Believers alike. I wondered if somebody was filming this. I pulled my hood up to cover my face, just in case. I had a steel sword in my belt, just in case someone decided to use violence and they didn't provide weapons. It was blunted, of course. But it could still give you a concussion and one hell of a bruise, if not break a bone or two. Whispered conversations were coming from the crowd. Ah, now I heard them. News reporters from all over the kingdom talked in every language possible. I heard a few talking in English, and I heard that it was being broadcasted live. Probably to every TV in the kingdom. I wondered if my family was watching. Probably not. At precisely one o'clock, the wrought iron gates swung open. The entire crowd rushed foward, almost pushing me to the ground. I regained my balance and started pushing back. Then the crowd stopped and a defeaning roar was heard. I saw a huge three headed lion tower over the crowd. The news article said nothing about this being deadly! I unsheathed my sword, uncertain if it was going to do much damage. Then, all at once, guns, magic spells, energy blasts, everything was thrown at the lion by those at the front. The monster came down easy, and I sheathed my sword before running on with the crowd. I passed a large lion paw on the way past, and I stopped and petted it gently. "Sorry about that." I ran through a large doorway towering above us, and stopped before I fell off a platform and lava. I realised I was actually near the front. "The floor is lava!" I yelled back. People started running ahead of me, slowly slifting through onto numerous floating objects. I jumped onto a nearby table. Two other people did the same thing simultaneously. One almost fell off and into the lava, but I grabbed their wrist and held them steady. The two were Make-Believers. The one I grabbed was monotone and translucent, while the other was small and dark, with six pairs of arms and wore black. "Thanks." Said the monotone one. "No problem." I said. "Spider." Said the dark one, her right middle arm held out. I shook it. "Queen." I said. I almost slapped myself. Bit of a silly name for this type of thing. "I'm Invisible." Said the monotone one. "Nice meeting you both." I said. I jumped from the table onto a small coffee table, then onto a large brown leather sofa. It was loud from all the yelling of the mob, and it was hot from the lava. I wondered for a minute if it was real. Then, as if to prove my suspicions, someone tried to jump onto the couch I was on from too far away, and slipped of it and into the lava. They screamed and dissapeared beneath the surface. Blood thundered through my ears. This was very real. Suddenly the yells of the crowd suddenly sounded like the screams of the dead. My sword burnt my skin when I brushed against it as I jumped from object to object. What was I even doing here? This wasn't my place, I should be watching all this in my house with my family, not actually competing. I stood still on a dining table. I was never going to win. I was going to die. I looked around. So many people had disapeared into the lava, but many still remained, and some had even gotten to the end of the large hall, and had made their way to the next room. I wasn't going to let myself be outdone by people like them. I jumped from the dining table onto a chair, then a microwave, then a fridge, then a chair, then a couch, then a bedframe, then a table again. I was thankful for my gripy shoes. I wore black and white sneaker-boots, which went up to my knees. They were my favourite, and I'm glad they were helping out. Soon enough, I made it to the next doorway with hundreds behind me, but hundreds ahead. The next obstacle was scafolding. Lots, and lots, of scafolding. I grabbed a bar and started climbing up to the top. It was very high. The floor beneath me was water. It was so deep, I couldn't see the bottom. Then, a person ahead of me, a Citeron, fell from the bars and into the water. He tried to swim to the lowest bar, but a huge shark swam out from under him and swallowed him whole. I realized more people were following behind me, and decided to get a wriggle on. I climbed throughout the bars like a monkey, going upside down, spinning, balancing, and twisting my limbs in ways that really shouldn't be possible. I reched the end, and realised that there was a large gap between the scafolding and the small chunk of concrete tile that you could land on to pass to the next room. I saw people on the other side, and I knew my time was limited. I unhooked my legs off of the bar I was currently slothing on, and started swinging. Once I'd gained enough momentum, I let go. I landed on the other side and somersault to my feet. I made it. I sped into the next room, where it was absolute chaos. There was a sign hanging from the roof that said, 'Pick A Door, Any Door!' I looked at the many doors infront of me. There were just doors without walls for ages. As far as I could see, there was no gigantic doorway at the end. I assumed you had to go through the small doors to get to the big one. I picked the first clear door I saw. I walked up to it and opened it. I didn't have a chance to see what was inside before it shut behind me. But once I saw what was in the room, I immediately shoved on the door, rattling the door knob furiously. It was black nothingness, and something white, gooey looking and melting was oozing out from the floor. It slowly grew taller, and the gooey stuff crew cavities in what i assumed was it's face, a great, wide, disgusting, smiling mouth, and gaping wide eyes. My heart raced faster, my movements frantic. I turned to face it. It was huge, and it was getting closer, it's disgusting, melted and eerie face leering at me. I unsheathed my sword, the blade twitching, my movements uncertain. It's smile looked fake now, it's empty eyes containing a small prick of white light against the dark holes. I slipped around the door to the oppisite side, and tried the handle again. Nothing. I took a deep breath and steadied myself, leaning against the door for support. I must've picked the wrong door, that's why it had locked me away with this, this, this thing! I looked at my feet, and I noticed white ooze leaking around the side of the door. I looked to both my left and right. The ooze was slowly curling around the sides, as though to incase me if I froze longer. I slowly looked up. I don't know what sound came out of my mouth. A gasp. A scream. A yelp. I didn't know. All I knew was that the leering, melted face was grinning at me from above the doorframe. I lept foward, away from it. I then turned back to it, I was not letting it out of my sight. The melted, slimey creature engulfed the door and crawled towards me, getting bigger every second. "This isn't a game, Atana." It said. "Nobody can save you." "You're spent. Your turn is over." A game? Spent? Over? No, I didn't think so. "So? I'm not scared of you! We made you, I can take you apart!" I said. I didn't know where those words came from, but I think I said them. "I'll knock you right out of the frame!" I held the sword infront of me, bracing for a sudden attack. I was correct to brace myself. The slimey being leapt at me, head first. I dodged to the side, upset I was caught off guard. "I won't stop until you're gone!" Said the slime. I chuckled, and looked it in the eye. "Game on." It was my turn to attack. I swung my sword at the slime monster, it morphed backwards and I missed, but I turned the blade upwards and came down again with a diagonal strike. It somehow dodged again. I was loosing patience. I drew my sword back to my side, and aimed a stab at it's 'body.' I lunged, but it stretched, making a hole in it's middle. My sword flew through it, but I pulled back before the creature could clamp down on the blade. "What do you hope to gain from all this?" It said, lunging for me, but missing. "What do you mean?" I said shortly. I didn't intend on wasting my breath on small-talk, except when it was a particularly witty one-liner. Then I made allowances. "What do you hope to gain from this, this contest? Material gain? A throne? People to lord over?" I scoffed. "Only fools risk their lifes for those things." I said, holding my sword close. The creature was a few feet away. I pondered how to attack. "I play for naught." The creature threw it's head back and cackled. It's laugh was sharp and hideous. "No one in this world plays for naught!" "Very well," I said, putting my right leg behind me. "I do play for gain." I stepped foward and lunged with my arms outstretched. The blade came a milimetre to the creature's neck. It looked suprised I'd caught it off guard. It just stared me in the eye, it's white eyelights flickering, sharp slimey teeth bared. "I play for pride, and knowledge. That's my gain." The creature cackled again. My patience had run out. I brought up my left elbow and slammed it into the creature's left side, bringing it to the ground. I held the tip of the blade above it's head. It cackled no longer. "Don't you dare laugh at me. Fools laugh at others. Wisdom laughs at itself. Remember that." I said. I drew my blade away from the stunned and melted being, and started walking towards the door. After a few steps, I turned back to the creature. "My name is Queen. Never forget it." Instilled with a new passion to persever, I stalked towards the door, sheathing my sword. My hand was on the handle, and I found it turned easily. I opened it, and was about to step out of the room. "W-Wait! Could you take me with you?" Said the melted slime creature. I looked back at it. It still lay on the floor, but as it noticed me turn my head it stood up straight. I looked at the door, then at the slime creature. I thought it over in my head. "Fine." The slime monster cackled again, quietly this time. It quickly slid over to me, and I walked out the door, the creature following me. I looked at the end of the room of many doors, and now saw a tall doorway. Many of the doors were still barricaded with steel. I walked towards the door, my head held high and a hand on the hilt of my sword. "So, what do you think the next obstacle is?" Said the slime creature. "I don't know. It could be anything, really." I said. "First was a giant lion, that was felled pretty easily. Second, was Floor Is Lava, a human game, so that was easy enough. Third, the scafolding with the water and the giant killer sharks, that was easy enough if you knew what you were doing, and fourth was this." I counted off the obstacles on my right hand. It was like a giant obstacle course. No shite, Sherlock, I told myself. "Do you have a name?" I asked the slime creature. It looked suprised. "No, I don't think so. The king pulled me out of nowhere. I probably didn't exist before this whole game thing started." "Then how did you know mine?" "I dunno. Just kinda knew."

#action #forthecrown #for_the_crown #thenewqueenofgames #queen #originalstories

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moma-jo · 3 years

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Handmade

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Height: 8.5 inches

Width: 11 inches

Canada

Materials: laser ink, 3mil thermal laminating paper, card stock, white legal paper, 8 and half by 11, 8 and half by 14, 11x17, prints or placemats

Description

8.5” x 11” on card stock 8.5” x 14” on white legal paper. Option: laminating, you can now have : 8.5” x 11” (3 mil. laminated 9” x 11.5”) or 8.5” x 14” (3 mil. laminated 9” x 14.5”) ***I also have a few 13” x 17” sheets as well, if you want two pictures side by side or 4 pictures of 8.5”x11” . please be sure you are picking the right choice. Pick the colors then decide how you want them laid out. there is a personalize section. Please use it to tell me the colors you chose for your arrangement. I will send you an email before I laminate to verify with the pictures in place. Please make sure you choose your colors and tell me in the personalized section, and we can email back and forth to make sure you are getting what you want. Description: I used to work for Welcome Wagon Ltd. as the Business Professional Representative and Community Ambassador for the Lower Mainland, here in BC Canada. I welcomed those who were new to the community and needed a welcome into the community. One day on a welcome visit to a Home-Based Business, I met with an incredible woman at a Timmy's in Aldergrove. The lady had a massage therapy company and she commented to me that she was blessed with “healing hands”; and she should help me with my back problems someday…… She worked out of her van, so she would come to you with her tools and experience. She was also a naturalist and loved to bring light into people's lives, ergo the sun and flower. I know she brought a lot of light into my life. I was interested in her way of looking at life and circumstance. She was a spiritualist and saw people's auras; and that is why you see the shimmering on this picture with the different colors of auras. It inspired me to make this print. She was so full of life; the reason for the fire. I needed to grasp her energy and find presence in its meaning. That night, I spent until the wee hours of the morning drawing the different aspects of this lady’s life into this scene. I got the inspiration-bee. I felt like I met an angel that day; and that is why this piece has wings. If you want your print to be laminated, that can be done at a minimal extra cost. I was thinking this picture could become an awesome placemat, so if you choose to laminate them, every 4th picture and its lamination for that picture is FREE. And if you choose to put the picture into my picture frames that I sell in my “jusTAknacCraftsnSupplies” category, you will now have even more options of plain or laminated on the frame as well…., with the bonus of trimmed through crochet in the color of the aura you choose. LAMINATION can even be double sided as well; with the same or different colors of prints…the mix and matching is limitless. 10 AURA COLORS AND THEIR MEANINGS: Each of the seven chakras is associated with a color, so understanding chakra colors helps when deciphering auras. When you see a specific color, it means your chakra for that color is stable and unblocked. Red relates to the root chakra. This means you are likely an energetic and fiery person, which indicates someone who is "quick at putting thoughts into actions" or "doesn't read instruction manuals." Orange can relate to the sacral chakra of creativity and sexual energy, which indicates flowing creative energy. This might mean you "tend to learn lessons from experience rather than theory" and "often have to learn things the hard way." Yellow relates to the solar plexus chakra as a good sign that you are feeling confident and empowered as it represents your identity and confidence. It signifies someone who is sunny and charismatic; with a magnetic personality that attracts lots of different people. Green is associated with the heart chakra, relating to matters of the heart. You will love for yourself and others through compassion and forgiveness. You probably love music, nature, and not being tied down. With an open heart, you may also tend to be easily influenced by one's environment or other people. Making boundaries are important to you. Pink is also associated with the heart chakra. You wear your heart on your sleeve visible for all to see. You are kind, caring, and loving People will say you are open and receptive. Just a note here though you can celebrate your kind and compassionate nature but remember that you also need to keep boundaries. Blue is the color of the throat chakra. It is a sign of having a powerful mind—but one that might be a bit in the clouds, you might over think things a little bit. You are operating in the mental realms and need to keep focused on being grounded more than others to stay on top of your game. This allows you to be see beyond what is there and be insightful. in the olden days you would be called a Prophet that governed expression and truth. Purple is the color of the third-eye chakra, which deals with intuition and sensitivity, and great mental depths. You might even have some psychic, empathic, or intuitive abilities. White is connected to the crown chakra, which connects us to universal energy and oneness. It is rare to see concentrations of white in one's aura. But if you do, it is the sign of a very quick mind—and a tendency for perfectionism and nervous energy. (OCD). If you see it in your aura; it would mean you have a strong sense of connection to something larger than yourself. if there are black or particularly dark areas of your aura, this is not actually the "color" of your aura, but somewhat a sign that part of you is exhausted or fatigued and needing a break from being used by others. You need to take some time to ground, heal, and balance your energy levels to brighten up that aura a bit, and bring your energetic field (and chakras) back into balance. Rainbow On the slight chance that you have a rainbow aura that displays more than two colors, it is a sign that you are going through a super busy period or are in the midst of a change. You might feel particularly energized and confident when your aura is giving off rainbow vibes. You want to get out and meet new people and do new things. Be careful though, it can lead to burnout and be overwhelmed, so be sure to make time for relaxation too. I hope this helps when choosing the colors, you want. always moma jo

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loquaciousquark · 6 years

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4th Solace. I’ve just realized I’ve missed the worst of the summer heat thanks to the Arishok’s oversized toothpick. If I’m being honest, not a bad trade

Odd thing happened today. Gamlen was here visiting again--which, that has been odd enough, for all that I've been glad to see him (even if his concern throughout my whole recovery has been markedly acidic). We were in the library, three layers deep into Bodahn’s date buns, when all of a sudden Orana knocked and announced Lady Audrey and her son, Stinton Forrester, were here to visit. They live about seven estates down the way with the extravagantly bitter Lord Willem Forrester and his unkinder mother, and I don’t think we’ve ever spoken to each other in our lives.

Anyway, in they came. She was in purple silk and he had a suit with puffier sleeves than my entire wardrobe; Gamlen was in his workcloth shirt with the seam I mended in pink thread two years ago, and I had a grease stain on my pants the shape of Antiva from that time we stumbled into the raider tripwires in Darktown.

I will say the shower of crumbs as I stood to greet them was remarkable, as was Toby’s alacrity in removing them from the carpet. After that scintillating beginning, though, I wasn’t sure what to do, so we ended up perching on the chairs and staring at each other for a good bit. Eventually someone ventured a remark on the weather and someone else responded in kind, and then we were making the small insipid talk I’ve heard at every one of Mother’s parties, and even Gamlen restricted himself to quiet snorts and rolled eyes instead of his usual biting commentary.

To be honest, that worried me more than anything else. Lady Audrey was never a great friend of Mother’s so far as I knew, but for the solicitousness of her concern over my injuries I might have thought she and Mother were the closest sisters in Thedas. Endless questions about my comfort, my recovery, endless advice on salves and creams to reduce scarring. Stinton just sat there and stared at me. I don’t think he said ten words.

They stayed just long enough to make the room thoroughly uncomfortable, then sailed out in a silk cloud. Stinton smiled at me when Orana came to walk them out. I’d forgotten two of his bottom teeth are turned sideways.

I haven’t the faintest idea what just happened.

Later

Gamlen says Stinton intends to court me. I say Gamlen needs to stop drinking the moonshine Jo Mallen makes with goose dung.

11th Solace. Steaming hot. Suppose I haven’t missed the summer after all

Stinton’s been back to visit twice. As have Orwen, Pelarie, Derrick, Braeden, Sage, and every single one of their mothers.

Shit.

19th Solace. Stormed hard but cleared up by midmorning. Everything marvelously dank, just like it should be

They’ve set the ceremony to make me the city’s champion for the last day of Solace. Stinton’s hinted three times he’d like to arrive on my arm. Or--me on his, as I suspect he’d prefer. He’s stopped coming with his mother. I wish he’d stop coming at all. He has the most abominable habit of saying my name every few words, as if he wants me to be absolutely certain I have his full attention. Feels more like he’s trying to piss dominance over a prize bitch.

No one’s called me that name since Mother died, and even then it was only when I’d been caught making trouble. It’s not for you, you pompous prick.

23rd Solace. Hot again. Foundry smoke’s been drifting over all day. Wish the smell would be kind enough to blow elsewhere, tired of nightmarish memories

Pelarie Ashbridge is entirely too shy to be caught up in this mess. She barely comes up to my shoulder for all that she’s over twenty, and no matter how her maid dresses her in cashmere and taffeta she still seems like a girl forced too far too soon. The only time I’ve ever really seen her smile was when I told her about the time Carver and I stole a sackful of unripe pears from Barlin and were sick for three days afterwards. Of course, that only lasted until her mother The Most Dour Woman In Thedas pinched out a smile and said something about how all children must learn to be ladies eventually, and Pelarie’s smile fell off her face like an anchor’d been tied to it.

Joke’s on her, though. I was nineteen when we did it.

(She certainly didn’t care for my pointing that out, especially given my glee in the doing. Pelarie smiled again, though, so I suppose it was worth the spite.)

Flames, but I wish these idiots would stop using their children as leverage. For all Mother’s faults, she never once tried to sell me for profit.

27th Solace. If I imagine hard enough, I can almost convince myself the city’s beginning to cool

If the hand is shakier than usual, it’s because I’m laughing hard enough I can barely breathe.

We came home--Andraste’s glorious girdle! I’ve got to get through the setup before the punchline, but the delay might very well kill me. We were out on the Coast today for Aveline, rooting out some smugglers who’ve been peddling qunari detritus at a tidy profit. First real fight since the Arishok--did fairly well, all things considered! Mana’s still a trifle weak, so some of the firestorms were more like fire trickles, but the battle ended with them dead and me with only a cracked shin, so all in all a resounding victory so far as I’m concerned.

Invited everyone over to celebrate, naturally, but Sebastian was already pushing late for Chantry services and Aveline had dinner plans with Donnic, so in the end it was just Fenris and me walking back to Hightown together.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this, but I told him about these fool visits at Wicked Grace last week. He hadn’t laughed like I’d thought, just gone...quiet, I suppose, is the best word for it. Frowned at his cards for three hands and lost every coin he came with, then excused himself early. I hadn’t meant to go after him--Maker knows his running wouldn’t thank me for the chase--but I saw him fiddling with that damned red band on his way out and knew right where his mind had gone.

Caught up to him right outside the door. It was cool for Solace, I remember, because his northern arms had gone to gooseflesh in the chill, and he’d actually shivered when I’d touched his shoulder to turn him. Wouldn’t meet my eyes, either, for all he stayed put, and it wasn’t until I reached down and tucked my fingers around his wrist (the wrapped one) that he came back to a little life.

I don’t remember exactly what I said. More than I should have--I’m fairly certain I offered to start hanging paint buckets above doors at his druthers--but it only garnered the slightest smile until I stepped a hair too near and he moved just a bit too close and--all at once--I had nothing to say.

All this time, and that was all it took. The slightest lean in instead of away, and my heart leapt so high in my throat I could hardly breathe.

I told him I wasn’t going anywhere.

I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t know what else to say, but he looked up when I said it, and that uncertain smile shifted into something a little deeper, and then he closed his eyes and his forehead came up against mine for just a moment or two, just long enough for a breath that took a thousand years with it on the exhale.

He left after that, and I didn’t try to keep him.

Funny, I don’t feel like finishing this now. I’ll come back to it another time.

Later.

All right. I’m three shots of Antivan liquor and most of a rotisserie chicken in, so let’s get on with this.

We came home from the Coast, is the short of it. It was easy enough between us after that conversation so I wasn’t thinking about much, just enjoying the walk, and then we came in and who should be sitting in one of those overtall embroidered chairs in my library but Lord Stinton Fucking Forrester in orange and ivory silk and slashed sleeves.

His face. Oh, Maker and his Bride, I’m crying at the thought of it. That pristine little suit, and in we come covered in blood and mud and sand with Fenris picking sinew out of his cuirass. I might as well have struck him upside the head with a frying pan.

Gaping isn’t a strong enough word. I started laughing the moment I saw him--couldn’t help it, too absurd--and managed to struggle through an introduction while shaking bone bits out of my hair. Stinton barely got out a stuttering hello, looking at me the whole time like I was quite alien, but Fenris--Fenris! that insufferable magnificent ass! gave such a deliberate flourish of his sword before sheathing it and setting the whole massive thing one-handed against the wall. Then he gave Stinton the most Tevinter half-bow that managed to signify more disrespect than a formal Kirkwall snubbing ever could, and I had to bite down on my tongue to check the giddiness.

Even that would have been enough. But then Orana--and Maker bless every bone in her body, for I think she dislikes Stinton as much as I do--came in with a bowl and a handful of rags the way she always does when we come home covered in gore, and kept a gloriously bland smile on her face the whole time we wiped off the worst of the blood. She even asked how many we’d killed this afternoon (which she hardly ever does), and pretended it was a perfectly normal thing when Fenris answered her with “sixteen.”

It was possibly the most Tevinter-esque conversation they’ve ever had in front of me, and my heart’s still singing for it.

Anyway. This continued on in the same vein for several minutes, Stinton looking nervously between the two of us, until there was an unfortunate lull, whereupon Stinton took it upon himself to ask how long Fenris had been serving in my household.

Oh, journal, but I bristled. Fenris hardly seemed concerned--resigned only, which I hated just as much--but I kept my temper enough to inform him quite frostily that he was a dear friend and had been so for years, and I had been honored to fight in his company today.

Which was all true, though I haven’t the faintest idea who was more surprised between the two of them.

Stinton didn’t stay much longer after that. He looked as though he still wanted to speak to me privately, but the Void would have to tear open my library before I’d ask Fenris to leave it for Stinton’s sake, and he left within a few minutes of Orana carrying away the bloodied bowl. I wasn’t sorry to see him go.

Then it was just Fenris and me left, and a silence that ought to have been awkward but wasn’t. Instead it was just comfortable, the both of us tired after the fight and that fool and willing to forget them as fast as we could.

I asked him if he’d come with me to the ceremony. As a friend, if he wanted, but I said I’d like to have him there.

He didn’t answer for a long time. Then he said no, which didn’t surprise me, but he looked sorry to say it, which did. He said he’d make a poor showing in dented, stained armor and he hadn’t time to get new things. I said I wouldn’t care in the least--it was him I wanted there, not his clothes--which made him laugh even if it didn’t change his mind. He said it would be a bad idea to draw attention to himself given both Danarius and the fact that he’s still squatting in that rotting mansion.

I couldn’t argue with that. So. He left, and I’m left to Varric and Sebastian as my only acceptable escorts. Not that I don’t--but--well. I knew it was a long shot.

Well. Nothing to be done about it now. It was still a wonderful thing to see Stinton slinking out like the weasel he is.

29th Solace. The day before my doom is fittingly dreary

Felt bad all morning over mocking Stinton to his face yesterday. Sent a note to him this afternoon asking him to come by for a few minutes so I could apologize.

He accepted it, ungraciously as it was given, which made me feel even worse--right up until the point where he told me he’d be happy to continue his attentions towards me only if:

a) I stop “trouncing about with Kirkwall unsavories”

b) I tone down my use of magic--so difficult to overlook when I keep throwing it in people’s faces

c) I dismiss the elf from my service (not certain if he means Fenris or Orana, though given his sneer I suspect the former)

d) I stop permitting Lady Ashbridge to bring Pelarie to visit, and Orwen and Braeden and the rest, no matter how gentle Pelarie is when her mother’s not crushing her under her heel.

I’m not often stunned speechless, and I’m pleased to say this was no exception. I’ve forgotten exactly what I said, but I know at one point I used the phrase “barbaric bollocking boor” and was fairly pleased with myself. His face turned all sorts of colors but ended a mottled red, and when I was finished he turned and walked right out the door without waiting for Orana.

Burned that bridge right to the ground, I suppose. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

30th Solace. Cold. Grey. Blustery. Pfeh

Orana has been at me for hours with more perfumes and salts than a magister’s bathhouse.

Just put me in the damned dress and let me go. No one who likes me will be there except Aveline anyway, and she’s seen me naked and covered in mud. That was one memorable trip up Sundermount, I’ll tell you that.

She’s coming with a fistful of gold pins for my hair. Maker save me

Later

The carriage is at the door; I can hear its squeaking wheels and Sebastian’s just come in the foyer. I can hear his voice from here. I asked Orana if I could pretend to be dead and she said she didn’t think the ruse would take. Damn her

Snuck the journal in my useless clutch. Serves her right. I’m drowning in poorly-scented sweat and Stinton keeps sneering at me across the floor. Pelarie’s here, though, and I’m determined to dance with her at least once to get her mother off her back. Sebastian’s been a darling to take my temper and he looks marvelous in russet and white and gold. Plus he knows the dances, which makes me look a good deal better. He’s dancing with the oldest Allencourt girl now. I foisted him off to spare him from me awhile--she’s sweet, if a bit dim, and guaranteed not to snap when he offers her a canapé.

Music’s changing again. How much longer?

Ceremony’s done but I can’t leave yet. Snuck off to some fainting room and locked the door--Cullen of the templary curls offered to escort me to get some cooler air but I said I’d rather avoid any surreptitious branding, which I think genuinely shocked him. Meredith didn’t seem to hear for all she’s been staring at me all evening, so I suppose I should count myself lucky and shut my mouth.

Aveline’s here. She’s in uniform, but it might as well be a golden gown for how adoringly Donnic’s watching her. Lucky thing.

Too many people altogether, all looking at me. Orsino, Meredith, Cullen, Elthina--even Bran showed up and brought me a champagne flute. I asked if it was poisoned. He looked at me sourly and said if he’d meant to poison me, he’d have done it when I was still the vagabond refugee fumbling with a wineglass in the Viscount’s office.

People keep knocking. Told them to go away but I guess I can’t have fainted then

Sebastian says I can leave in half an hour. The Champion of Kirkwall gets an iron circlet and a medal and a piece of paper in the mail. The medal’s in the clutch, but there’s not much to do for this damned circlet. My forehead’s going to be dented for weeks

Later

It’s almost three in the morning, but I’m finally home. The candle’s nearly out so I’ll keep this brief as I can, but--

Fenris came.

It was just for a few minutes, so quick I might have blinked and missed it. I’d stepped out for the last time--the Viscount’s gardens back right up to the great hall, and there was a wonderful shrubbery thing in a great brown pot that hid me marvelously in the shadows, even with the crimson satin. Only this time I stepped out and--there was someone already behind it.

I will say I repressed the scream admirably. I can’t say I didn’t stumble back with the most ignominious trip into the gravel I’ve ever had, except the shadow reached out and caught me.

Maker. I even write besotted.

Knew him as soon as I felt his hand. Knew the calluses well enough, certainly, but the lyrium I’d recognize blind and deaf and dying. He stood me on my feet, and I looked at him, and...

Sometimes, in Lothering, Bethany and I would go out to the creek that ran behind our fields. There was a wild hydrangea bush there, taller than the two of us together, and in the last days of spring we’d find the little buds and Bethany would coax them with her magic to see if she could get them to bloom. She was much better than I was at it--I tended to get impatient and wither them instead--and most of the time they’d only open a bit, only slivers of brilliant purple peeping out between waxy green sheaths.

Sometimes, though--sometimes, if everything was perfect--she’d thread her magic into the leaves and I could see it take, could see the leaves growing and greening and beginning to furl away, and the bud would swell and swell and swell until all at once the bloom would burst open--in perfect silence--and a glorious purple blossom larger than my head sat in her curled fingers.

They were beautiful. And I...

That happened in my heart, when I saw him. Silent and sudden and beautiful and overwhelming, and there was no going back after it opened.

He wasn’t in his armor. He’d found a dress tunic--Tevinter in style, high-collared, but with long sleeves that gathered snug at his wrists, and black trousers that fit him beautifully, and I’d never felt so near crying from gladness in my life. I don’t know where he found them. I don’t care.

He said he couldn’t stay, that the guards would only ignore so much, even well on their way to drunk, but he misliked the idea that his fear of Danarius might control him even now. He said he knew I needed no protection from fools (like Stinton, implied), but if I needed refuge from their mothers...

I shouldn’t have hugged him, but I did, and I don’t regret it. He held me back, so he couldn’t have hated it that much.

I told him he was the best thing I’d ever seen. He told me I was beautiful, and he didn’t let go of me until I’d pulled away first.

Lady Everlyn came out only a few seconds later with Braeden at her heels, so there wasn’t much more to the moment, but he was still watching me when I stepped away to keep him hidden. I told him he’d be standing up with me next time, not hiding behind a bush. He said, “Hm,” but he was smiling when he did.

The candle’s long out and I’ve been writing by magelight for twenty minutes. I’d better stop before Orana ties me down with my own bedsheets.

(I’m determined there will be a next time. If nothing else, I need to see him in those trousers in proper light, not in the shadow of a shrubbery.)

(He came for no other reason than I wished him to and he’s kind, even if he doesn’t want anyone to know. If he’s trying to make me forget him, he’s gone the wrong way about it.)

(My face is so flushed the damned iron circlet feels like ice.)

(He said I was beautiful.)

#fenris #hawke #fenris/hawke #dragon age #quark writes #hawke's journal tag #i did this while watching 1 topple #:)))))#yay auburn

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