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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

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The Miys, Ch. 151

This chapter has been one that I have been dying to write for a while. I was worried that @baelpenrose would resist the idea, but he very much thought it was hilarious. As always, his input and riffing on this chapter has very much made it better and better.

However, it also made the chapter longer, lol. But there is just no way to trim it down without losing something that makes it all work, so this week is nearly double my normal length... break everyone’s heart, right? ;)

“I don’t like these numbers,” Parvati grumbled - as much as she was capable of grumbling - as she scrolled through the final counts of approval ratings on her and Hannah’s inaugural Food Festival.

The statistics had been dropped into our inboxes that morning, in the static of about a thousand other notifications now that Derek had finished the stress-test. Also included were the results of the last three invasion-prep drills, which I was in the process of scanning over.

“How bad are they?” I asked, half listening for a number. The drills were trending better, which was a good sign that the moves were effective.

Dismissing her display with a gesture of disgust, she sighed. “Seventy-four percent approval rating.”

I arched a brow and glanced over. “Did you adjust for those who did not attend?”

The glare she sent me wasn’t seen so much as felt. “Of course I did. First thing I ran…”

“Are you filtering by the day the comments came in?”

“I -” Bingo. She huffed. “No! These are intended to be ratings for the entirety of the event!”

I started scrolling through my own statistics. “Chart them out by the date the ratings came in, filtering out everyone who didn’t actually attend.”

A pause. “Oh… Oh! It’s showing ninety-three-point-four now!”

“Et voila,” I murmured. Louder, I clarified, “People like to weigh in early, and those who object in general tend to speak first.”

“I see that… how’s it going over there?” she asked, smoothing her braid over her shoulder as she turned to look at me directly.

“We are improving with every drill, marked upticks since the relocations. Arthur should be here in about - “ I glanced at a clock, “Seven minutes to go over next steps.”

Alistair breezed over to swap my empty bulb of cold coffee for a fresh one of water. “The appointment is in fifteen minutes.”

Parvati beat me to the punch. “He is also compulsively early, meaning…. Six minutes now.”

He rolled his eyes hard enough that I wanted to giggle. “He doesn’t even have the decency to be fashionably late. Appalling.”

Surely enough, Arthur paged at the entrance - out of some sort of manners I accidentally instilled in him - exactly five minutes prior to our scheduled appointment. As he breezed into my office, he managed a half-assed glare at Alistair for abruptly turning away and focusing on my schedule rather than his usual tendency to get a beverage for any newcomers. “Okay, updated data on drills isn’t what I want it to be.”

I laughed. “You’re joking, right? Your team and Michael’s haven’t gotten past deck four by more than three percent in the last seven exercises.”

“Any percent above zero is unacceptable,” he grumbled. I chalked it up to the indignity of being forced to get his own tea from the console.

Almost as though to spite Arthur, Alistair made a point to set a refreshed water bulb in front of everyone except the professor. “There are guards on the other levels for a reason,” he suggested drily.

“And I would rather those guards be idle, thank you,” Arthur threw back in a near-venomous tone.

“Us guards would rather be prepared for any eventuality, which you may do well to plan for in your petty drills.”

I didn’t even try to intervene. Clearly there was some blatantly disagreement between my admin and my friend, and I was exhausted from trying to make them cooperate.

“If I’m doing my job, you should be so grateful as to be idle,” Arthur drawled.

Alistair scoffed. “As if being left to rest and get fatter than a Christmas goose is a blessing…”

“You’ll live longer!”

“And get lax in my duties, which I will not stand for!”

“Get fat! Get lazy! LIVE! I don’t care! I’m not going to be lax in my duties to allow you the opportunity of getting practice at fighting.” Standing, Arthur buried both hands in his hair, but it looked less like he was running his fingers through it than pulling on it. “Are we really discussing this when we are training to fight in living body condoms?”

“I need to defend the Archives!”

“And Michael and I need to defend everyone! Us doing our job means you don’t need to do yours.”

My neck snapped back at the vehemence in his tone. This wasn’t their normal sparring… they may have never truly gotten along, but even in the beginning it was never so vicious.

To my further alarm, Alistair took a long stride forward and stared down his nose at Arthur. “We both know that she - “ his hand flung out to point at me “is either the luckiest or unluckiest person in existence. You can’t really believe that, in an actual assault on this ship, that she won’t be in danger. Which will place Tyche, the Archives, Derek Okafor, and Samuel Richardson in equal danger. You aren’t an idiot, you know this.” The hand pointing toward me turned, and time seemed to slow down as he stabbed Arthur in the sternum with it, punctuating each of his next words. “Stop lying to yourself.”

“Poke me again, and the finger comes off.”

“I would dearly love to see you try.”

Hannah and Parvati had jumped to their feet when Alistair approached Arthur, but were now slowly moving around to my position, safely behind my desk. Hannah hissed at me through clenched teeth, “You had to tell them to fight it out.”

“I thought they would use a gym, not the damned office,” I hissed back.

Before she could respond, Alistair spoke again. “You aren’t the only one on the Ark who wants to protect everyone. You need to trust us to do our bloody jobs.”

“The last time I trusted anyone else to protect people, I lost fourteen students,” came the ground out response. “I’m not backing down on this.”

“You will, or I will sedate you and strap you to a medical berth for the next four months.” Alistair stepped back and crossed his arms with finality.

A trickle of nerves ran down my spine as I watched Arthur clench his fists and release them. “You think the solution to everything is to tie it up, I swear.”

“Stop changing the topic. I am deadly serious, Farro.”

Arthur turned away from him, waving him off. “Try something else, you would never just sedate me for months on end.” Before we could stop anything, Alistair leapt forward and put Arthur in a headlock, only to be immediately flipped over the other man’s shoulder and onto the table. “Tch. Sloppy. I know you can do better.”

“I thought you wanted me to get fat and lazy,” Alistair grunted as he sucker-punched Arthur in the stomach and rolled for the other side. Once on his feet, he eyed Arthur carefully as he circled the table. “You stubborn ass, you know I am right. You are putting everyone in the lower levels at risk by not running preparedness drills with them, because you don’t want to factor in the fact that one of the offensive teams could fail.”

“We don’t have the luxury of failing, so no. If we do our jobs correctly, everyone who matters will be safe at the other end of the Ark.”

They didn’t seem to be at each other’s throats anymore, but the arguing wasn’t getting anywhere. “Guys - “ I tried.

Both men turned and practically screamed at me with their glares to stop talking. Oookay. I held up my hands in surrender and decided to let them sort it out their way.

Damned if the console wasn’t on the other side of them, though. I couldn’t even get popcorn and a drink.

Alistair blew a harsh breath through his nose. “If you won’t include the lower decks in your drills, I will start sparring with Jokul.”

“He would kill you,” Arthur barked in the most miserable laugh I’ve ever heard.

“God forbid,” Alistair mocked. “If I were gone, who would make your tea in the morning.”

“The same person who picks up the socks that magically appear all over my quarters every day, obviously. Worthington, I’m serious, he could really hurt you. He has really hurt me. And Charly.”

That last part was dismissed with a wave. “Madam Charles the First put the fear of herself into him.”

“And you haven’t. He could kill you by accident, and he’d never forgive himself.”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be the case if you would let me train more!”

Arthur groaned and ran a hand down his face. “You are an adult, we’ve talked about this. Train all you want, with whoever you want - Charly, Sophia, Tyche… hell, train with Evan or Michael, I don’t care. Just, not Jokul.”

When did they talk about this? I wondered. It had to be during a sparring session or something, because it definitely wasn’t in my office during one of our meetings. A glance at Hannah showed she was watching everything unfold like it was the most riveting show she had ever seen, and Parvati’s squint of consideration wasn’t much better.

“As you said, I’m an adult. Perhaps I should take your advice, and train with Charly - “

“See - “

“- and Jokul. She will make sure I don’t get hurt.”

Arthur flung his hands up in frustration. “You are so stubborn, I swear!” Growling, he paced in a circle. “Fine! Train with Charly and Jokul. IN the bivouac suit, though! And I don’t want to hear a word when you end up confined in a med bay yourself.”

Alistair’s smug grin showed just how much he seemed to care. “At least I would be spared of picking up the trail of dishes that seem to follow you around.”

“For the love of - they are my quarters! Mine! And I don’t want to hear about it when your bloody socks are constantly getting lost behind my sofa!”

Oh. Oh no. Nonononononono.

“My socks can go wherever they fucking want to, when I am constantly cleaning your disgusting whiskers out of the sink!”

“You know what would fix you having to clean whiskers out of the sink? I could just stop shaving altogether. How about...that…” Arthur trailed off and very slowly turned toward the three of us behind my desk with a look of dawning horror.

And I tried. I really, really tried not to laugh. I could feel my face reddening, my chest aching with the effort of holding it in.

Hannah’s snort was my undoing. As soon as that tiny noise escaped her, all three of us erupted into hysterical, stomach-cramping, tearful laughter. I felt stabbing in my arm as Parvati dug her nails in, trying desperately not to fall. Unfortunately for her, Hannah grabbed me at the same time and all three of us toppled to the floor. The sight of Arthur rolling his eyes and crossing his arms only made me escalate from laughing to shrieking in hysterics and relief.

I couldn’t speak for the other two ladies, but I thought the two men were going to end up killing each other… At no point did I think they took the other option when I told them to either fight it out or….

I gasped for breath, trying to get myself under control. Wobbling to my feet with the help of my trusty desk and a couple yanks to free my shirt from Parvati’s desperate clutching, I pointed between them. “This… how long? Can’t believe… didn’t figure it out.”

“Not everyone is as… public… as you, Conor, and Maverick are,” Arthur snarked at me. “You know, private lives should be private and all that?”

“Must be for you,” I confided in Alistair’s direction, where he had turned his back to our fit. “He’s never not told me when he was dating someone. Or thinking of dating someone. Or potentially interested in seeing if he was interested in dating someone… Best friend privileges and all that.” While I waited for Alistair to respond, my mind whirled through all the things I had brushed off before but were very obvious in retrospect.

Glancing at Arthur for a hint yielded nothing but a flat stare that all but declared in flashing lights You Aren’t Stupid.

I tilted my head at that, and kept thinking. There had been genuine animosity on Alistair’s side in the beginning, and not a small amount of needling on Arthur’s. So I knew it wasn’t something that had always been going on. My mind came to a screeching halt, however, when I remembered something - the day Alistair, Tyche, and I decided that, when I vacated my position on the Council, they would vacate roles as well to leave behind a ‘clean slate’. “Four years, holy shit,” I gasped. “Four years!?”

Finally, Alistair moved. His back was still to us, but his arms went limp by his sides, and his head dropped down toward the floor. “It would be unseemly to have the new Councilor of Education in a relationship with the attache to the Councilor for Resources and Engagement. Or formerly in a relationship, should things not end well.”

“And since he won’t be taking his position until we are on Von,” I put together, “You are okay to serve out the rest of my term, just not Hannah’s or Parvati’s.”

“Correct.”

“Huh. That makes sense,” I admitted before hopping up to sit on my desk, the chair being a lost cause on the other side of two women who were still sniffling and giggling on the floor. “I learned a lot today.”

“Uh huh,” Arthur confirmed drily. “And it had better stay in this office.”

“What?” I managed a pretty convincing confused face before pretending to realize what he meant. “Oh! The relationship thing. Yeah, cool, whatever. That’s not what I was talking about, but you’re good.”

“Dare I even ask what you meant?” Alistair ventured, finally turning around so that he could give me a warning look.

“Uh, isn’t it obvious?” I asked, shaking my head and spreading my hands, palms up. When they both just stared at me, I finally broke and grinned. “Dude. You two are freaking slobs.”

The squeaking noises coming from the vicinity of my feet told me that no further work would be getting done for the rest of the day.

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ipuckwithhockey · 3 years

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Every New Beginning- M. Raffl

a/n: I couldn’t sleep last night so here’s almost 4k words of me missing Raff already.

summary: You and Michael had a good thing going for nearly five years but when reality sets in you both start to think that all good things must come to an end.

warnings: Swearing

When you left your patient’s room and headed to the nurse’s station you weren’t expecting to see a six-foot redhead waiting for you. Sure, he’s visited you at work occasionally and you don’t mind that he’s here now, but those visits in the past were always planned in advanced, were usually accompanied with a quick lunch, and didn’t take place at 10pm on a Monday.

You met Michael a few years ago when you moved to Philly to start your residency at U-Penn’s hospital. You were just out of medical school and still focused on achieving your lofty career goals and Michael was in his prime playing for the Flyers. Neither one of you had any intention of settling down or putting in the time and effort required in a serious relationship and so the two of you fell into a casual relationship that consisted mostly of late-night activities after you were both done with your shifts.

You were only twenty-five back then, and now you were pushing thirty. Eventually that casual relationship evolved into something more, and now you weren’t just fuck buddies, you were actually the best of friends. But even though you considered each other best friends neither of you ever made any move to solidify what the relationship that had spawned from late night texts had actually become.

Your family and friends all wondered why you hadn’t settled down and they asked why you insisted on keeping a casual hook up around for almost five years when you were getting the age when a woman should be finding a man to marry. Michael’s family and teammates all pestered him for never making it official between the two of you, and never understood why he insisted that the two of you were just friends. But that’s all you were. You were friends. Friends that liked to have sex, friends that only thought of each other when anything particularly good or bad had happened, friends who spent the little free time they had with each other.

And maybe the reason why you hadn’t ever stopped sleeping with Michael was because a small part of you knew you had feelings for him, but maybe it was also because you work nearly 80 hours a week and don’t have the time nor the energy to date at the end of the work day.

Maybe the reason why Michael never tried to make you his was because he knew you were too good for him, too smart, and too beautiful. Or maybe it was because he had tried dating when he was younger and every girl he met was too annoying, too fake, or too greedy. Maybe the dynamic you had together was just too easy to ever change.

But life isn’t fair, and just like the old saying, all good things must come to an end.

“Hey! What are you doing here? Everything alright? You look perfectly healthy and I’m a pediatrician so if you’re sick, you’re in the wrong wing of the hospital.” You joke as you walk up to him where he’s waiting at the nurse’s station and you drop off some charts before turning your full attention to the man who had been patiently waiting for you. You still had your nose in your patient’s charts when you walked up to him, and so you hadn’t noticed the tired look in his eyes, and you hadn’t seen him nervously popping his knuckles as you approached. In fact, when you’re at work, especially during a long shift, you’re usually so focused on your patients that you don’t notice much of anything else in general. Which is why you had also missed the phone call and text that Michael had sent you hours prior, and the messages your friends scattered around Philly had sent with condolences and sentiments of shock.

Michael knows now, with your lighthearted joke, that you don’t know. That you hadn’t seen his call or his text from earlier. And when he doesn’t say anything at first and you see that serious look in his eyes your attitude changes from lighthearted to concerned, “Is everything okay?” And while Michael knows that everything is not okay, he also knows that this isn’t a medical emergency, at least not one that can be fixed.

“Yeah, I just wanted to come by before heading out.” He says, and even though he knows you don’t know, he doesn’t have the guts to come out and say it just yet. There’s a look of confusion on your face, “I didn’t think you guys left for the west coast until next week? Or are these 24 hour shifts finally getting to me?” You try and make light of the situation even though that look concern is still spreading across Michael’s face.

“Yeah, the guys don’t head out until next Wednesday…” He says it and he can see the wheels in your head start to turn. That’s when you remember what day it is and your heart plummets. You’ve been working third shift, and you were two hours away from finishing your current 24-hour shift. The last 22 hours have been pretty hectic, and the thought of the NHL’s trade deadline had completely slipped your mind— until now.

“Can um- Can we walk outside real quick?” You ask and you don’t really give him time to answer, instead you just head down the hall and out the side door to a small courtyard and Michael follows behind you. When you’re both outside, you’re still processing what he said when Michael interjects, “I’m just on my way to catch my flight. I wanted to come by to see you before I left.”

You nod your head, and you don’t know what to say so you step into him and wrap your arms around his steady body and his arms wrap around yours, “Where are you going?” You whisper against his chest, and you focus on his heartbeat thumping against your ear.

“D.C.” He says simply. That’s not too far you think. But you also knew that this was a possibility, him getting traded, and you know that his current contract ends this summer. He could end up anywhere in the league next year.

“I’m sorry.” He says it as his lips place a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you let out a sigh before letting your arms drop from around him as you step back.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” and you say it just as simply.

“Then why do I feel so guilty?” And that’s what breaks your heart. You’re both standing in front of each other, and after five years you know each other well enough to know that this thing between the two of you is more than just another friendship. And while you both hate yourselves for never making this what it could have been, you also know that it wouldn’t change what’s happening now. You were still working toward your goals and so was he, nothing about that has changed. There’s nothing to say in that moment, nothing either of you could say to make it feel like you haven’t wasted the last five years, and so Michael places his hands on either side of your face before bringing your lips to his.

It’s a gentle kiss, and as your lips move slowly against his you know that this moment is full of words that neither one of you can speak. When Michael finally pulls away from you he sees the tears running down your face, and you try to to look away even though his hands are keep you steady in front of him. His thumbs gently run across your cheeks and you let your eyes close as he wipes away the tears you selfishly let fall. You know that this has to be harder for him. He’s leaving his life in Philly behind, his teammates, his best friends, and you.

You bring your hands up to gently remove his from where they still rest on either side of your face, “You’re going to miss your flight.”

He nods reluctantly in agreement, and he places on more kiss on your forehead before he turns to leave. Michael never was one for many words, and he doesn’t have to say it, you’re sure you know how he feels and you know he’ll miss you just like he knows you feel the same way for him.

Two Years Later (July)

You finally feel like you’ve settled into your new place, even though it’s been almost six months since you moved. Moving back home to Seattle was an easy decision, especially when one of the country’s best Pediatric Nephrology programs calls and offers you an attending position.

You set out at an early age to be a doctor. In high school you decided you wanted to be a surgeon. In college you decided you wanted to go into pediatrics. In medical school you decided you wanted to study kidneys. Everything you wanted for your career had happened and now you’re a nephrology specialist and surgical attending at Seattle Children’s Hospital.

You should be ecstatic. You should be over the moon that everything you thought you could ever want had happened. You should feel grateful that you get to live in the city you grew up in and that you can spend as much time with your family as you’d like. You should be happy, but you aren’t.

After Michael was traded to the Capitals you stayed in touch, calling and texting when you could. You spent the night together when they played the Flyers for the last time that season, but when summer rolled around, and he signed a two-year contract with them you knew you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would never work. When you called to congratulate him on his contract, he could sense that something was off, he could hear in your voice that you weren’t yourself, and when he asked you couldn’t lie.

You told him you thought that whatever was going on between the two of you needed to end. You embellished with some lies, telling him that you needed to be focusing on your work and that you were getting too old to have a fuck-buddy, especially when he was living 150 miles away, and when he started to protest you were quick to shut him down. You told him that you both knew that it couldn’t last forever and that it was okay because all good things must end, and as much as you tried to convince yourself that what you were saying was true, you knew that you didn’t believe any of it. You knew that you loved him and that you wouldn’t find another man that knew you the way he did. But you also knew that your worlds were only growing further and further apart.

The next year or so was hard. You stopped returning Michael’s calls and you distanced yourself from anyone who was associated with hockey. You threw yourself into your work and your patients and before you knew it a year had passed. As much as you knew that you were only barely keeping your head above water, you also had no idea how to fix whatever mess you had made for yourself. You were thirty-one years old, married to your job, and single. Oh, and still in love with a guy you knew you couldn’t have.

You weren’t sure what to do or if there was anything you could do, but when Seattle Children’s called and made you an offer you took it as a sign. Your parents were thrilled that you were moving home, and you thought that this was a change that you needed. Something to break up the monotony. Something to shake up your life and to help you get back on track. The excitement you had mustered up for your new position was met with an amazing medical program, but you still had that same empty feeling you had when you were back in Philadelphia. So, you did what you did best, and you continued to work your ass off. Morning, noon, and night you were working with patients and roaming the halls of the hospital, but when your shift inevitably ends you find yourself backing your apartment… alone.

You’ve never been one for TV and now that you try to avoid hockey all together, you don’t usually watch any at all, but tonight you just felt an itch to reach for the remote that rests on your coffee table. You turn on some random sportscast in the background while you scroll through emails on your phone, and you almost miss it but your well-trained ears pick up on the familiar name.

“Michael Raffl signing a one-year contract with the Seattle Kraken is probably the most surprising thing to come from this off season so far!” The moderator on the TV says and you have to shake your head as if to wake yourself from what feels like a dream. Your hand instinctively reaches for the remote to turn up the volume and you continue to listen to what the talking heads have to say.

“You know, everyone thought he’d be retiring this year, he’s 34 and has a nice chunk of change in his bank account, I’m surprised he isn’t heading back to Austria.”

“I think this could actually be a good signing for them. They need some veteran presence on their young team and Raffl brings experience and a solid presence on the third or fourth lines. He could really bring something different to their game.”

“They’re getting him for cheap too! It’s seems to me like he’s interested in the team or just wants to keep playing if he’s taking this kind of deal.”

You can’t believe what they’re saying. Michael signed a one-year contract in Seattle. And while you don’t keep up with hockey anymore, you remember from all the conversations you’ve had with him, he had already been thinking about retiring in a few years back when he was traded to the Capitals. Why would he sign a mediocre contract with a team on the other side of the country for one year? But you don’t let yourself go where your heart wants to take you. You’re sure he doesn’t even know that you’ve moved from Philadelphia and even if he did, you’re sure he wouldn’t have signed with a team just because you were going to be in the same city.

It’s been two years. It’s in the past.

Six Months Later (December 31st)

You’re not sure what you’re doing here. You’re in dress that’s probably too short and too tight, and your feet are killing you. But you let your co-worker, Jen, drag you out for New Year’s Eve. She’s a twenty-seven-year-old Nurse from your department and while she’s sweet and fun, she’s also almost five years younger than you and her stamina for nights out is a lot better than yours. You spend most your time at the hospital and when you’re not there you’re with your family or opting for a nice dinner or quiet bar instead of crowded clubs and house parties.

You’re sure that most of the people in this club are closer to Jen’s age than to yours, but you put a smile on your face anyway and try to have fun. Jen’s fiancé has been stuck to her side all night, and even though some of your single co-workers are out with you too, you still feel a bit out of place. After the fourth twenty-something guy approaches you, drunk, and with a not-so-charming pickup line, you’re ready to head for home. It’s just about 11:45, and you think that if you can get an Uber you can be home before the ball drops.

You’re just about to make your move toward the doors when you feel a hand snake around your waist. The uninvited hand only adds to your desire to leave, but when you hear a familiar voice in your ear you stop dead in your tracks. The hand is still touching you and his body is now close against your back when you hear him say your name for the first time in years.

You turn quickly and you swear you’re hallucinating but when your feet trip from your swift movement and he quickly steadies you with his arms, you know he’s really there.

“Michael… Wh-What are you doing here?” Nothing feels like the right thing to say. Michael isn’t sure what words to use either, even though he’s replayed this moment in his head a million times by now. He’s practically run through every possible scenario of running in to you. If it was in the grocery, surely it would happen in the frozen section. It would probably be around 1am and you’d both be there to grab a pint of ice cream. If it was at a coffee shop, you’d be ordering your usual latte with almond milk and he would be ordering his black coffee to-go. He even imagined it happening at one of his games. But when some of the young single guys finally got him to agree to come out tonight, he hadn’t thought about the possibility he would find you in a club in downtown Seattle on New Year’s Eve.

“I live here.” He says it matter-of-factly over the loud music blaring around you and your first instinct is to say, “I know.”

He knows that coming out here was a risk and he knows that it’s been two years and he knows that you’ve probably moved on, but hearing you say that you knew he had been here all this time and hadn’t reached out made his heart hurt with a pang of disappointment. And for a minute you’re just standing there with people rushing around you, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You’re not sure what this “moment” is for or why now of all times the two of you are faced with each other again after all these years.

You decide you don’t have anything to say, and you just shake your head, “I can’t do this.” You say it quietly but bluntly before moving from his grasp and weaving through the crowd of people on your way to the door. When you make it outside you don’t realize that he’s followed you and when you reach the sidewalk you hear him call your name as he comes up behind you.

“Wait. Please.” He begs as he reaches for your arm.

“What?! What do you want from me?” You ask as your turn to face him, and it’s more of plead because you realize now, in the cool winter air that your chest hurts from heartbreak that’s two years old, and your mind is racing with what he could possibly say to make up for the seven years of avoiding those feelings. You’ve thought about what you would say to him if you ever saw him again, but now all those rehearsed lines have vanished and for some reason you’re angry. Angry with him. Angry with yourself. Angry that you’ve wasted over half of a decade loving him.

He lets go of your hand and he anxiously runs his hands through his hair, and now, thankfully all those scenarios he’s run through his head are coming to true, “I just want you to know that I loved you.” He says but all you hear is past tense. “I loved you from the first night I met you. God. You were so smart I had no clue what you were talking about, but I knew I wanted to listen. I loved you for five fucking years and never had the balls to tell you.”

“And then reality set in and I got traded and you shut me out- And I don’t blame you for that either.” He interrupts himself. “I don’t blame you for getting tired of waiting or for knowing that you deserved more, and I thought that you were right, all good things have to end. And I really thought that I would get over it and that maybe I’d find someone who was half as good as you who would make me happy enough, but I never did.” His eyes are bright and searching yours for some indication that you’re hearing what he’s saying, but your facial expression hasn’t changed, and you stand there staring back at him blankly. “I never stopped loving you. And I know that it’s selfish but when I heard you moved and Seattle offered me a contract, I had to take it. If not for the opportunity to keep playing, then for a chance to at least tell you how I’ve always felt about you. How I feel about you now.”

He’s still trying to figure out if you’ve heard anything he’s said but when you let a little laugh and shake your head in disbelief, he knows he’s too late. So he presses his lips together tightly, and lets his head fall in defeat as he starts to turn away from you.

You’re so taken aback by everything he’s said. It’s like you knew everything he just told you all along, but hearing him say it aloud, hearing him mirror exactly how you’ve felt for the last seven years, you know that this is one of those moments that life gives you that you can’t pass up. And just as your mind is catching up, Michael is moving to turn away from you, but before he can turn his back your hand is gripping his shirt and pulling him into you.

When your lips collide the weight that has rested on your shoulders for the last two years is finally lifted and your bodies sink into each other the way water fills an empty glass. You’re consumed in each other as your mouths reacquaint each other and your tongues dance together like they did so many years ago just as you hear the city around you counting down, “5…4…3…2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!”

And when you pull apart from each other, his arms still holding your waist and your hands still in his hair, you take a moment to take each other in. He’s older now and the features of his face are deeper, but his eyes still make you feel warm and safe and happy. He swears you look the same as the last day he saw you in Philly, and the warmth of your soft skin against his hands and the way you still have that same sheepish look after he kisses you, makes him feel like that twenty-five-year-old kid he was all those years ago. And yet, after all this time, now you finally know that every ending is just a new beginning.

#michael raffl #michael raffl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagines #hockey fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey writing #flyers #philadelphia flyers

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

Years Gone By

(Not my gif)(Requested by @ateliefloresdaprimavera )

(I felt this kind of format was better for the request.)

Michael Corleone x reader

D- Y/n is a family friend of the Corleone’s who’s been in love with Michael for as long as she could remember. Though the older boy had no interest in her growing up, old feelings come back and new ones develop after they stumble across each other in Sicily.

Growing up with the Corleone’s was... interesting, to say the least. You laughed with, hugged and kissed them, but a part of you was always aware of how dangerous they were. You knew the hands which held yours so fondly had also done horrible, violent things.

But you accepted that, understanding that there was a space between right and wrong in which the Corleone’s fell. A space which allowed them to protect you, your family, and so many others. Your own father had done things no one in your family was proud of, but his actions had allowed you to fall in with the Godfather and earn you a place in his heart and home.

You spent countless hours with the family; growing up alongside the boys and Connie. You could still remember all the giggle filled sleepovers you’d had with girl who was just a year younger than you were. All the family dinners, the days spent in the pool, the holiday and birthday parties. Oh the parties. How you’d blush as the older men and women would ask which brother caught your fancy, a question which made Connie’s nose wrinkle in disgust. She adored the idea of having you as a sister but the thought of you liking one of her brothers; at least when she as younger, grossed her out.

Growing up, most of the boys had little interest in you besides their occasional teasing and need for a substitute listener when their other brothers had no interest. Sonny had a habit of chasing neighborhood boys away from you, though his actions were spurred on by little more than a brotherly instinct to protect you. His blunt way of acting amused you but there was a brother whom you’d pined over for nearly your entire life....

Michael was a softer soul; quieter, kinder, calmer. His face the embodiment of Italian beauty: dark features and tanned skin. He was six years older than you were, practically a man while you were still a young girl. You didn’t expect him to return your affections, you only hoped and prayed.

You were twelve years old when he went off to college. He’d given you a hug, kiss on the cheek and pat on the head, promising you and his sister that he’d be home for the holidays. You were crestfallen. It took you an entire week to stop feeling miserable. Then at sixteen, you and your family went to live with some relatives in Sicily... so no more Michael, even at Christmas.

The Corleone’s kept tabs on you through the mail. You’d get at least one letter every two weeks, usually from Connie, which kept you updated on everything that had happened. Over time you put your affections for Michael on the back burner; you couldn’t live the rest of your life hoping he’d notice you, right? You had a few short lived Sicilian romances which were merely puppy love or convenience centered. No matter what you did, you had no luck with relationships. You’d practically given up on them; throwing yourself into your hobbies and chores. It was during one of those chores that you crossed paths with your past once more.

It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, wildflowers blooming all around you. You’d been sent into town by your mother who’d entrusted you with buying a short list groceries. It didn’t take you long to accomplish the task around town, gathering all that you needed in just under an hour before starting your trek home.

You pulled your hair out of your face, adjusting one of the bags around your shoulder as you walked through the grassy clearing which led you to your families estate. That was when you saw him, flanked by two armed men and bearing an angry bruise on one of his beautiful cheeks. You stopped in your tracks and his eyes flitted to you, locking onto your face as his own morphed into one of subdued shock.

“Michael?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, pitifully quiet as you felt the world around you freeze. He stood still for a long moment, in fact, neither of you moved until you heard the men who accompanied him tease him about being hit by a thunderbolt. You felt your cheeks flush.

“Y/n.” His voice was soft but you could still hear it, the surprised tone which it held was not lost on you.

He took a slow step forward before he finally approached you, standing in front of you tentatively, completely unsure of himself for one of the first times in his life. You made the first move, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing yourself flush against him. His arms wound around your waist, pulling you in closer. A part of you feared him feeling your beating heart, knowing that it would give away your feelings for him and yet a part of you knew that things were different now. What was between you had changed, morphed from childlike fondness to strong attraction which coursed through every part of you.

So many questions threatened to spill from your tongue and yet, not one of them could leave it. The only thing your mouth was capable of saying was “how”, a bewildered inquiry which made him chuckle, a handsome laugh that you felt deep in your stomach. He assured you that it was a long story, offering that he could perhaps tell it to you another time.

Another time. The promise of seeing him again after today sent a flurry of joy through you. You were unsure of what to say, even after you matured and experienced the world, you still felt so juvenile compared to him. No, that wasn’t it, you didn’t feel as though you were younger than him, it was just that his mere presence turned you back into that shy little girl which snuck glances at him at the dinner table.

“My parents, they’d love to see you again. Why don’t you join us for dinner?” The invitation brought a smile to his face, a breathtakingly, heart stopping smile which had butterflies fluttering inside you.

“I’d love to. If it isn’t any trouble.” He answered.

“None at all.” You replied and nodded your head towards the beaten path in front of you.

The two of you began walking, attempting to speak as old friends should though the flustered feelings which possessed you did not leave, instead it grew, along with a desire that settled deep within you. The desire to touch him, hold him, kiss him. He was right beside you, walking beside you in a meadow like a dream you’d had as a little girl. You wished that you were alone and that you could stay that way for longer than the short journey back to your home.

The instant you returned, your mother burst through the front door, a bright smile plastered on her face as she embraced the young man. Her jovial greeting allowing you the chance to slip away and compose yourself; checking the mirror, straightening out your hair and dress. When your mother entered the house she was ushering in the smiling man who was trying his best to answer her rapid fire questions and accept her praise. You gave him a small smile, an apologetic look gracing your features. He merely smiled in return, eyes lingering on your face a moment longer than they should.

Your mother kept him busy until dinner, fluttering around the kitchen while talking about this and that. You sat on a chair next to the door of the kitchen, sneaking glances at him whenever you deemed it safe. Your father joined the three of you just before your meal was finished cooking, asking the same questions that your mother had as he led him to sit at the dining room table. More of your relatives joined them as more time passed; their voices and laughter carrying throughout the house.

It was only a few moments later that you entered the room, carrying a few bowls into the room and setting them on the table before you sat down. Your mother entered shortly after you with the rest of the food, making everyone's plates before she herself sat. You stayed relatively quiet as your parents made conversation with him, feeling as shy as ever in his presence. It was halfway through dinner that your mother had asked the question. You were honestly surprised that it had taken so long to be brought up, you half expected her to ask it within the same breath as her greeting.

“So Michael, have you found yourself a nice girl?” She’d asked, her hands folded under her chin, a curious inviting smile on her lips. He’d closed his eyes with a smile of his own, it was the first time you’d ever seen him slightly flustered.

“No, no, I haven’t. But that does bring me to what I would like to ask,” He paused, taking a sip of his wine and dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “I would like to court your daughter if you; and she, will allow me to.”

Your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat as you wondered whether your ears had betrayed you. He looked over to you, his eyes searching yours as he smiled at you. Your shocked face changed into a thousand-watt smile as your head whipped between your parents; who seemed just as shocked as you’d been. In an instant the room erupted into joyous cheers. Kisses, handshakes and hugs were exchanged, relatives insisted that “they just knew it would happen” and throughout all the chaos his eyes would meet yours, adoration shining in their darkness.

Many people say that time flies when you’re in love and only now could you understand what they meant. You and Michael began the courting process: taking long walks together, eating dinners with your family, spending entire evenings at each others sides. An hour felt like minutes when you were with him. No amount of time was ever enough.

You’d admitted your childhood crush to him, sitting beside each other, shaded by a tree down a trail by your home. Embarrassment painted your features but the confession brought him more joy than you could ever imagine. The thought of you loving him for so long was akin to a dream.

He told you how he felt the first time he saw you in return, describing your beauty, your smile, the way you felt in his arms. His words stoked a fire in your soul, a feverish desire took hold of you once more. You were suddenly aware of how close he was to you in that moment and then you were aware of his slow moments closer, the leaning of his head, the heat of his breath.

He pressed his lips to yours, soft at first before it grew hungry. His hands moving to your face, sliding down the back of your head, thumbs resting on your collar before finding your waist. Your arms encircled his neck, fingers finding his hair as heat coursed through you. The two of you refused to stop until your lungs screamed for air, only then did he part from you, his forehead pressing itself to yours, nose nuzzling your cheek. It was then that he said the magic words, breathed them into the warmth between you as your heart beat frantically.

“Marry me.” His voice nothing more than a whisper. Tears filled your eyes as you accepted as quickly as you could, allowing him to pull you into another feverish kiss.

A flurry of arrangements happened around you. Flowers, music, food, dresses, invitations, decorations; it was enough to make your head spin and yet it was the happiest you’d ever been.

The wedding was beautiful; traditional and everything you could have ever hoped for. The look on his face when he saw you in your dress for the first time was enough to bring a tear to your eye. Never in your life had you seen a man so enamored with someone, let alone you. He spent the entire day calling you beautiful, even apologizing for saying it so much as the two of you danced. You assured him that you didn’t mind, a smile on your face as you leaned in to kiss him.

The entire event was captured in dozens of photos, photos which you wanted both for yourself and for his family; though undoubtedly they would wish to have their own get-together for the joyous occasion. A second wedding just for them. You both planned on returning to America in a month, you’d spend the rest of your time in Sicily at the home his family had gotten for him.

It was in that house that the two of you consummated your marriage, your bodies wrapped around each other and your hands caressing whatever they could find. Everything was perfect and you felt as though it always would be just as long as you stayed in his arms.

True to your plans, after a month of marriage, the two of you packed your things and began your journey to his families home. You exchanged tight hugs and joyful kisses with his family; all of them ecstatic over how things had turned out. His mother repeating what you’d already heard so many times before: “I knew you’d end up together. I always thought you’d make such a beautiful couple. And the babies! Oh the babies!”.

Like you thought, the family hosted their own huge event in their gorgeous backyard. A whole new set of photographs were taken, a whole new cake cut, and presents collected. You’d never seen any of the Corleone’s so happy.

By the end of the day you were exhausted yet smiling, tiredly swaying back and forth with Michael to the bands slow music. He pressed soft kisses to the side of your face, nuzzling into you for a moment before pulling away just enough to look into your eyes.

“Welcome to the family.” He whispered. His lips met yours in a slow kiss, sending your heart into a fit of frantic beats as though it were the first time his lips had touched your own.

#70s movie headcanons #70s movie imagines #70s movie headcanon #70s movie imagine #the godfather imagine #the godfather headcanons #the godfather headcanon #the godfather imagines #michael corleone imagine #michael corleone headcanons #michael corleone fic #michael corleone headcanon

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therappundit · 3 years

Text

Top 10 Rappers of 2020

The finish line of this long, surreal year is finally upon us...which means that it’s time for me to throw down the gauntlet in the ‘Best of 2020’ frivolous list race! 🙌

*Just to be clear*: this is a list of MCs who I believe turned in the best overall performances in 2020. ***This is NOT a list of the my top 10 favorite MCs***, or even who I believe to be the best MCs in the world at the moment...these are simply dope artists that put forth the strongest, most consistently interesting and important (to the genre) high-quality work in the perilous year that was 2020.

If you think your favorite MC was slighted....well, Michael Jordan is the greatest to ever play the game of basketball but even he didn’t win MVP every year, right? I encourage you to write your own list - it’s a cool way to dap artists that are too often overlooked by industry websites, and share the music you enjoy with others that may not have given the record a spin otherwise.

Even if 2020 didn’t bring you the “instant classic” you had been hoping for, I think it’s hard to deny that this year really had impressive depth when it came to showcasing some of the most diverse music that the genre has to offer. I can’t speak for music in general - sadly I’m just The Rap Pundit, not The Music Pundit - but I can say that it has been an impossible task to keep a playlist less than 500 songs deep at a time, because for every truly great release in 2020 there seemed to be 30 very good releases. 👌

So how did I come about these 10 MCs (and Honorable Mentions)? Before you get huffy about who I snubbed (and that is pointed directly at my jury of older head peers that consider themselves tastemakers, but also haven’t opened their minds up to any new takes on rap styles since the year 2000)...here are the five chief pieces of criteria that I put into finalizing my list:

- quality (whatever lane you’re in, how often did you ‘own it’?)

- quantity (at least 10 very good-to-great songs released, and 3-4 verses that stand out as a ‘must-hear’ for any rap music fan)

- consistency (not just 4-5 great features and a few forgettable solo tracks, will I want to keep at least 7 or 8 of your own new songs released in 2020 in my rotation for 2021?)

- impact (are you so vital to the type of rap music you make that if you stopped rapping tomorrow, there’s no one else in the game that could fill that void?)

- “it” factor (are you carried by a co-sign or an elite production team, or did you bring a style/talent to the table that could carry a record in and of itself?)

Got it? Then here we go...

1. Conway the Machine

I hope 2020 was the type of year that Conway the Machine had been hoping for since he first began his journey with rap music. After years of scraping and hustling towards music industry recognition (and not just cult figure status), at year’s end we see Griselda’s top Lieutenant holding down a rare balancing act: champion of underground hip-hop, and most requested feature by any mainstream rap star looking to add some tough-talking muscle to their album.

While much of Conway’s content has always been driven by surviving an attempt on his life in 2012, much like 50 Cent, Conway’s way with words and perspective manage to elevate the quality of his material to a higher tier than most. And where - at least in his heyday - 50 Cent benefited from an indestructible super-villain persona, Conway’s success can be greatly attributed to a larger-than-life heart. With every braggadocious act of gunplay, there are moments of gratefulness to still being alive to share success with his brethren, as well as a painful longing to be with close allies that are no longer with him (at least not in the physical form).

Above all else, in 2020 Conway the Machine did what he has always done throughout his career: delivered well written, passionate bars about coming up in an impossibly challenging environment and coping with loss...only now his craftsmanship and understanding of how to channel all of those feelings into a more polished final product have yielded the most well-rounded solo project of his career in From King to a God. Progress is a slow process, but the long and winding road has finally taken Conway a step closer to that G.O.A.T. status he will hopefully continue to reach for...

Best Evidence: FKTG, and a countless number of scene-stealing verses alongside rap acts ranging from deep underground to household names

2. Freddie Gibbs

I don't use the word "sauce" all too often (this may actually be the first time), but if there was any MC guaranteed to bring sauce to any rap record right now, it's Freddie Gibbs.

Forever existing somewhere between gritty gangsta and syrupy old soul, the flavor that Freddie brings to every verse is malleable enough to work on virtually any type of record, which was certainly proven in 2020. Anyone foresee a Gibbs & Alchemist Grammy nomination heading into 2020? It’s a testament to how high quality work, through consistent reliability and dues paid, can elevate a project from underground niche following to critical acclaim. While his work with Alchemist may not reach the lofty levels of his heralded collaborations with Madlib, Alfredo represents the best that “quarantine music” can offer...two talented friends saying one day, “hey we should finally drop a full tape together, why not?” - and then BOOM, it happens.

Too many fail to remember that Gibbs already has a long accomplished body of work behind him...so the fact that he may just be entering his prime now, is scary.

Best Evidence: Alfredo, Machinedrum’s “Kane Train”

3. Boldy James

Comeback MC of the year, and no it is not close (but big shout-out to Grafh, another dope MC who had an amazing year).

I'm old enough to remember when folks like Roc Marciano and Ka were seen as sleepy, monotone rappers with little hope of reaching permanent rap icon status (flash-forward to today, and they are widely consider geniuses). For some, the quieter, less hook-dependent approach to making rap songs, was....well, not great rap music. They were wrong then and they’re wrong now, but similar to how the coolest, smartest cat in the room is rarely the loudest, it can take some time and patience before everyone learns what’s what. Time is what is required to appreciate Detroit’s Boldy James, a veteran that has been through it - both in terms of the ups and downs of the music business, as well as the streets through which he draws his stories and inspiration.

Boldy makes it seem all too easy, rapping his verses with the cool, casual tone of telling old stories to a close friend over drinks. Dropping multiple projects (with one still to come) in one year can often lead to over-saturation. Even the most dedicated fans/stans can begin to feel less enthusiastic about new releases when they have already received a healthy portion of more of the same...but most rap fans are not necessarily Boldy James fans. Boldy fans (much like Roc Marciano and Ka fans) are already aware that knowing what type of material to expect from your favorite MC can be a blessing if that MC takes pride in the execution of the final product, rather than the noise leading up to it.

The beauty of his collaboration with The Alchemist (big year for that guy, huh?), The Price of Tea in China, is that it celebrates the more subtle nuances of boom-bap, proving that great MC and producer chemistry can trump the “shock & awe” of more uptempo rap music. The shock in Boldy James’ lyrics sits within the detailed descriptions of the cold world he grew up in...so monotone or not, how can any music could be more gripping than that?

Best Evidence: TPOTIC, Manger On McNichols, a long list of consistently perfect feature verses

4. 42 Dugg

I would say this is more of a longterm investment rather than the celebration of a rapper already within rap’s inner circle, but 42 Dugg didn’t just steal the show on every feature this year, he also displayed maturity in his ability to craft well-rounded, high quality rap singles. I’m talking joints that work just as well on the street tape level as they would at the radio level. That is especially rare to see from a rapper that is still relatively new to national conversations.

So much more than just a co-sign of Lil Baby and Yo Gotti, the Detroit eastsider has already proven that he can craft a full solo album with the swagger of a far more seasoned MC. 42 Dugg combines a Boosie-esque, "oh you think you’re better than me??” chip on his shoulder with the unpredictable bombast of Lil Wayne. What he may lack in punchlines he makes up for in musicianship, his voice bringing one of the most nimble touches to trap music that I have heard in a long time. 42 Dugg music is hard and soulful, with the natural hunger of a rapper that knows me might be one smash away from superstardom. By this time next year, I’m betting he will be.

Best Evidence: Young & Turnt 2 (Deluxe), features on high profile records like Lil Baby’s “Grace” and “We Paid”, and a growing stream of attention grabbing solo loosies

5. Rome Streetz

In 2020 it was almost impossible to be an underground MC with a great project unless you landed a Rome Streetz verse.

Rome has been bubbling for a while now, but in 2020 he unleashed an onslaught on the game. At times he seemed like the hardest working MC in underground circles, busting his ass to not only make as many appearances as possible, but also to own any song he guested on. He raps like every verse might be “the one” that gets him a huge contract, and that’s a level of hunger and consistency that will likely land him more than one huge contract someday. In spite of that laundry list of strong features, the young Brooklyn MC still managed to release multiple dope solo projects, all flashing a rap style that feels at once a throwback and the fresh voice NYC rap needs.

Rome is clearly from the same school as many of the New York City greats, because he has the capacity to deliver dark, potent bars with the sharp intellect of a Harvard lecture (think AZ before “Sugar Hill”). While he sounds most at home when he’s rhyming over instrumentals that run more coldblooded than a horror flick, it’s easy to picture him popping up in more places in 2021...if that’s even possible.

Best Evidence: Noise Kandy 4, Kontraband, The Residue, and at least 50 incredible features with a who’s-who of the underground’s finest

6. Stove God Cook$

No one saw this coming....well, maybe Roc Marciano, Lord Jamar, Busta Rhymes and a few more NYC heads in the know - but I guarantee you, no one else saw the Stove God coming!

Bar for bar, no MC owned more rewind-worthy rap quotables in 2020 than Stove God Cook$. Dropping a solo debut with VERY little fanfare and zero features (apart from the steady, reliable guidance of Roc Marciano - low key one of hip-hop’s most reliable producers), a slow bubbling word of mouth campaign on social media eventually got Stove God verses exposed to more and more high profile ears. Such a grass roots campaign is rarely seen...I mean, a rap album slowly becoming a critical darling simply off the strength of more and more random folks discovering the music and Tweeting about it, as opposed to the buzz being calculated before the product??? It feels almost too good to be true these days, as early reviews of Reasonable Drought typically lead with something along the lines of, “hey, have you heard of this album? I have no idea who this is, but it is 🔥🔥🔥”

It has often been said that Roc Marciano has a lot of “sons” in the game, implying that Roc Marci gave birth to a style that a whole generation of underground MCs run with today. So it’s ironic (or perhaps highly appropriate?) that the next level of progression for Roc might be to have a protege, a young Jedi to carry on the tradition on Roc’s own terms, and become the next new star to be embraced by the old heads. But Stove God isn’t a clone of Roc, or anyone else, he’s simply one of the most exciting artists to hit the NYC underground in a generation. Everything from his word choice, to his fresh references and sense of humor, to his delivery and the way he structures his verses, feels like a collection of “firsts”, there’s simply no one sounding like him. And if his work in 2020 is any indication, he will continue to be in a league of his own for years to come.

Best Evidence: Reasonable Drought, spotlight snatching features alongside Roc Marciano and Griselda’s finest

7. Lil Baby

Once viewed by some as just another “Lil”, Lil Baby had been rollin’ coming into 2020, but by the end of 2020 it’s clear that he has arrived at the forefront of rap music’s most reliable hitmakers right now.

A must-have feature on any rap album reaching for max exposure, Lil Baby’s dexterous flow, charisma, and pen that is significantly sharper than early reports indicated, made him one of the few shining stars in 2020 to consistently deliver good rap music to what in any other year would have been considered smash hits in any club.

What makes Lil Baby’s music standout is that he could easily be a “cookie cutter” MC, phoning in verse after verse just to get another check, but instead he continues to bring it - trying to squeeze in an extra catchy lyric, maybe flow in a way that breaks up a verse to make it stand out from the pack a little more - and even when he is featured over cookie cutter beats that sound like every other trap inspired beats that came before it, Baby seems eager to prove something. I think that’s what I like about him - he’s on a short list of mainstream-bred Young Thug disciples that seem to really want to put the work in to becoming one of the greats.

Best Evidence: I mean...did any rap star have more songs in circulation this year? Dude was everywhere, but “The Bigger Picture” got his name officially into the lyricist conversation (even though personally I don’t even think it’s one of his more impressive records - at least not stylistically)

8. Westside Gunn

No one denies that the Griselda Records team had a banner year, yet somehow the vocal leader of the group managed to drop a handful of dope projects without receiving credit for being a great MC in his own right. Great artist, great album curator, great business man - sure, but great MC?? That credit is rarely given to the FLYGOD. He might not even understand how natural he is as a solo MC, waxing unpredictable flows and half-bars that stick in your mind in place of catchy hooks or predictable song structure. He might call himself an artist first, but I still call him one of the most prolific rappers today (regardless of whether he retires after the ball drops).

I can’t believe I have to tell rap fans this in the year 2020...but......you all know that message and punchlines are just part of the art of rapping, right...and not the only thing that defines who is a dope MC and who isn’t?? Play any solo cut from Westside Gunn and filter out the “doot-doot-doots” and stream of conscious hooks and what you are left with is one of the most distinctive voices in rap music, attempting off-kilter flows and phrases over some of the most impressive production in rap music today, and to me that sounds like my kind of rap music. What the Buffalo floor general lacks in diversity of subject matter he makes up for with a relentless imagination.

That’s why it’s not all that surprising to me that Westside Gunn enjoyed more mainstream attention in 2020 than he ever has before. All he needed was a window of exposure and he certainly capitalized on it, pitching his sound and his vision in all the right places, without compromising his style or vacating his lane. So strictly as a MC, I would consider him the Young Thug of the east coast underground scene, and if 2020 does turn out to be his final year of recording solo projects, I am thankful that he already has a long list of quality projects with high replay value to revisit again and again. But don’t wait - give this man his flowers now.

Best Evidence: “Euro Step”, “Rebirth”, “327″, “Shawn vs. Flair”, “Michael Irvin”, and YES he even had a more than worthy verse on “$500 Ounces” alongside Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano

9. Benny the Butcher

Who else is more reliable to deliver a dope feature verse than Benny?

By now you must be muttering at least a few things about me, so let me just make two points: YES, I am a big fan of Griselda records, but NO I do not consider that an unreasonable bias because even on paper according to a large variety of sources, it’s clear that Conway, Boldy James, Westside Gunn and Benny are true specialists when it comes to the quality of the work they distribute. Its not a fluke or a trend, they’re just that good at what they do...I have been saying this for almost 5 years now, but in 2020 the rest of you sleepy heads finally just stopped hitting snooze.

Benny the Butcher already possesses the writing capacity, attention to detail, and skills of observation/personal reflection to put himself within special company as one of the nicest pens in the business today. But in 2020, he dialed things up even higher...or perhaps word of mouth just finally caught up with the rest of his peers? The tribute to the classic Roc-A-Fella era that was his Burden of Proof project with Hit-Boy helped expose Benny to a much larger audience, and it has been beautiful to see so many more folks quoting and sharing his lyrics on Twitter, because I recall when he had about the same amount of Followers that I do, because it wasn’t all that long ago (I just hope they go back to experience all of his prior work - I’m still partial to his incredible verses on “Shower Shoe Lords” and “Pissy Work”)!

In my not so humble opinion, I do think some of the more dramatic pomp and circumstance on the BOP album was more suited to a Rick Ross or Meek Mill than Benny, so I’m actually more excited to hear what Benny has in store for 2021. He truly sounds at his best over more minimalistic production that lets his lyrics fill the spotlight...but still, tracks like “Timeless” and “Legend” do remind me of some of my favorite moments from old JAY-Z albums...blasphemous, maybe, but true.

A shot to the leg last month seems to have done nothing to slow his momentum, so if you didn’t board the bandwagon by now, you are inexcusably late.

Best Evidence: Burden of Proof, mercilessly slaughtering every verse on every Griselda projects, and a ton of show-stealing features

10. Drakeo the Ruler

What a journey it's been for the L.A. rising star.

Flexing a penchant for placing local slang into his music and delivering dark verses with a clear sense of humor, it's easy to see the appeal of Drakeo's style. If Thank You For Using GTL was an inspiring attempt to do anything possible to keep his buzz going (in that case, recording his verses over a prison phone), the quick release of We Know The Truth shortly after he regained his freedom seems to have given him a 50 Cent-esque teflon aura at the moment.

But this is about more than just Drakeo himself, it’s about what he represented before incarceration, and what he represents now. As one of the more visible forces in a new generation of west coast hip-hop, Drakeo was a few key features away from exploding onto the national scene. Now after surviving his ordeal, likely with a great deal more to write about, his ceiling has only been raised - and along with his growth potential, so rises the potential for the current rap scene out in L.A. right now. Mark my words: by this time next year Drakeo’s flow will be one of the most flagrantly jacked flows in rap music coast to coast.

A sincere welcome home from the rap world, Drakeo the Ruler. Hopefully the worst is now behind you. 🙏

Best Evidence: We Know The Truth, Free Drakeo, Thank You For Using GTL

*Honorable Mentions*:

Che Noir, Ka, Ransom, Billy Woods, Royce Da 5′9″, Jay Electronica, Fly Anakin, Curren$y, Lil Uzi Vert, Roc Marciano, Skyzoo, Black Thought, Tee Grizzley, Your Old Droog, Flee Lord, Lil Wayne

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aspenflower17 · 3 years

Text

Finding You (Part Fourteen of ??)

Hey everyone! I hope you’re all having a good New Year so far! I have a bit of an update after the chapter for y’all.

Edit: Oop! I forgot the link to Part One for any new people! My bad!

Tags (ily all!): @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman (as always, if you’d like to be put on the tags list, juust let me know in a comment down below, or a DM)

Word Count: 1,961

TW: None? I’m pretty sure?

Mc didn’t know what she was expecting from the song Satan’s brothers pressured him to play, but a gorgeous melancholic love song was not it, though she should have guessed it was a love song from the title. She was entranced from the first couple notes, and the lyrics pulled her in further. They spoke of someone experiencing love for the first time, though they were afraid of their Love fading away and leaving them. She smiled at the cat lyrics, finding herself not surprised Satan would write about them. He seemed like a cat lover, though she had no real basis for the belief.

Satan’s singing voice was just as nice as his speaking voice and she found herself impressed. It also held a lot of emotion, enough that she was surprised it didn’t affect his singing. Though she had never heard the song before, it seemed extremely familiar. Though, it was a fairly universal concept, so it probably just seemed she’d heard it before. She hadn’t realized she was crying until Mammon offered her a handkerchief. When he finished, everyone clapped, and he started on another song.

“I never thought I’d hear tha’ song again,” Mammon spoke to Mc in a low voice.

“Why?” she asked.

“Oh… Uhhh… Well, it’s about a lost love of his. Once she… disappeared… He played it one more time and then said he’d never play it again.”

Mc felt her throat constrict a bit at the revelation, “He must be doing better then. When he got his next… lover, he probably started feeling better.”

“He… Uhhh... '' Mammon floundered for words, and Mc found herself eagerly awaiting his next words, “I don’ think he’s dated anyone before or since her. If nothin’ else, she is his firs’ and only love.”

“Did she hurt him?”

“Huh?”

“I just ask because I’ve seen a lot of people, well, humans, who had relationships go sour and closed themselves off emotionally. I was just wondering if that’s what happened to him.”

“Not… Not exactly… She was human and she… died…” Mammon seemed really anxious at this point, and Mc decided not to push the subject further.

A human? Really? Well, that adds another layer to the song. It’s the most permanent level of “leave” there is. He knew going into the relationship it would end. But… If she had been corrupted enough by him, wouldn’t she have gone to the Devildom? Then they could’ve been together… Does that mean she went to the Celestial Realm? Do I know her? Or… Did she get stuck as a wanderer? Either way, why would he play it now? Mammon said he’d sworn off playing it ever again… The questions swirled around in her head as she watched Satan play.

“Ooooo! Ooooo! My turn!”

“Asmo, you can’t play piano,” Satan sighed, already getting up.

“But I can play music off of my DDD now can’t I?” Asmodeus said, waltzing up to what had become a stage.

As Asmo scrolled through what Mc could only assume was his list of songs, Satan came and stood next to her. Mammon even moved over so he could. Mc gave him a small smile and then turned her attention back to Asmodeus, who was gushing about the song he’d found to sing. She was still thinking about all the unanswered questions she had when she felt a breath next to her ear “What did you think?”

Mc almost jumped, but instead found herself glued to her chair, “Of the song? Or your singing?”

“Hmmm… Both.”

“You play and sing wonderfully. The song was beautiful. I could really feel your emotions.”

“Thank you,” Mc felt Satan retreat back to a standing position, and she found she missed his presence.

A huff from the other side of the room caught her attention. Looking over, she caught the tailend of Michael watching Satan with narrowed eyes before turning back to Asmodeus. How strange.

When Asmodeus finished, Lucifer was both begged and forced to play by those in the room. While Mc had to admit he was definitely in a league all his own, she found herself preferring Satan’s playing to Lucifer’s. She cocked her head slightly at the realization.

“Excellent Lucifer! Just exquisite!” Diavolo boomed, giving the Avatar of Pride a standing ovation, “I can’t remember the last time I heard you play!”

“Well, it has been awhile,” Lucifer smiled. His pride seemed to have recovered enough he could properly interact with people again. Mc was happy she was able to avert a crisis, not interested in finding out how a brawl between Michael and Lucifer would go. Though… Would either of them actually get into a physical altercation?...

Mc was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t realize the brothers were leaving until they were all asking if she would come to the House of Lamentation at some point.

“... And I would love to paint your nails,” Asmo prattled on, grabbing her hands, “And I know the Devildom’s lack of light can make your skin lose some of its radiance, but I have a moisturizer that can help with that. Oh and-”

“Asmo, come on! Ya want Mc to come visit or not?” Mammon interrupted,

“Mammon, you don’t understand the nuances of keeping yourself looking perfect.”

“Uh, yes. I do. I’m a model. Ya been smellin’ too many of ya fancy products and it’s melted ya brain?”

“I think you’re thinking of yourself, though it was probably when you were trying to con those witches into buying acid, and you drank some.”

“Oi! How do ya know about that?”

“Ugh, there they go again,” a head rested itself on Mc’s shoulder, and she almost jumped until she saw who it was, “Seriously though Mc. You should come over.”

“Yeah. You’re even welcome to bring Luke,” the one brother who she hadn’t talked to added, “Barbatos told me he’s gotten even better at baking.”

“Of course I’ve gotten better at baking! I’m also very good at cooking too,” Luke said, having joined the conversation.

Mc watched at Beelzebub, which is who she figured he must be through the process of elimination, actually started drooling, “Does that mean you’re actually going to come over then?”

Luke smiled fondly, a look Mc wasn’t sure she’d have ever thought he could have for a demon, “If you’d like Beel, I could probably make that happen.”

Beel rushed over to Luke and pulled him into a huge hug. Belphegor removed himself from Mc, walking over to Beelzebub, “Beel, you need to let go of the chihuahua or he’s going to suffocate. Luke can’t make you food if he’s been squished.”

“I’m sorry. I hope these idiots haven’t been bothering you too much.”

“Not at all Lucifer. They were just inviting me over sometime.”

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to head out,” Lucifer said, starting to gather his brothers.

“You are welcome anytime you want to come over,” Satan’s voice came from behind her.

“I… Thanks. I would really like that.”

“Satan! We’re leaving.”

“I’m coming Lucifer,” Satan called, rolling his eyes, then back to Mc with a smile, “Bye.”

“Bye,” Mc called after him.

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

Mc sat in her room hours later, the events of the evening still running through her head. Though she knew Michael wouldn’t approve, she found herself much more at ease and even happier around them than she did around most angels. There was a non-judgmental kindness they all exuded (well, all except Lucifer) that made her feel like she belonged. She found herself excited about the prospect of spending more time with them at the House of Lamentation. She had to laugh a bit, the fact she didn’t fit in with the rest of the angels never more clear than it was now.

Simeon had told her his time in the Devildom had been extremely enjoyable, the less structured lifestyles if the Devildom a welcome change from the Celestial Realm. She had read his work from that time and it was obvious he had felt a lot more creative in the Devildom, even though he had school responsibilities at the time. While she hadn’t doubted his words, she had always figured the change was mostly due to the fact he had been able to communicate with his lost brothers again. Now she understood what he had been talking about.

Simeon generally gets along with the other angels too. What would they all say if they found out I prefer the company of the Fallen to them? Everything is just more natural with them. It’s almost like I already know who they are, as strange as that sounds. Especially Satan, though I’ve felt connected to him since I got his letter. Speaking of which, who was it that he mentioned? Lil… Lilly? Lillah? Lillian? Hmmm… I can’t remember. I do know I’ve never heard that name before. Whoever it was seemed to have a great impact on all of the brothers. It can’t be someone they Fell with. I’ve read all the literature about the Fall and I don’t recognize the name. Though there’s a lot about the Fall the Celestial Realm doesn’t talk about. But... Simeon’s also never mentioned anyone with that name before… Maybe it’s time for me to do some more research.

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

Mc stretched, and checked the time on her DDD. She had been in Diavolo’s personal library for over three hours, and she still hadn’t found any mention of the mysterious “L” person. She found plenty of references to Lucifer though. It seemed he and his brothers had been instrumental in helping Diavolo establish order when the old King had started his slumber. What caused this slumber, why it happened, or if it would end was not covered. Mc wanted to research the topic further, but she couldn’t get distracted until she had answered her initial question.

There was a knock at the door, and Barbatos came in carrying a teacup on a saucer, “I thought you might be in here.”

“Oh, hello Barbatos.”

The butler entered the room, and set the tea down on the table Mc was studying at, “I thought you might like some tea.”

“I would actually, thank you. If you would like to, you can take a seat.”

“I suppose that’d be alright,” Barbatos smiled, and sat down in a chair. His eyes glided across the books strewn around Mc, “You’ve got some heavy reading here.”

“Well, I’m trying to figure something out,” Mc sighed, sipping her tea.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

“Maybe, though I don’t remember what it is I’m looking for exactly,” Barbatos simply cocked his head slightly until she continued, “Satan was telling about… Well, a personal experience, and he mentioned someone. I don’t remember their name, but it was someone very close to all the brothers and they had passed away. I was just trying to figure out who it was.”

“You seem very interested in this person,” Barbatos’ tone wasn’t accusatory, but he seemed to expect and answer.

“... I guess I’m just trying to understand them better. Him better,” The last part slipped from Mc’s mouth easily, surprising even her.

“I think I may know who you’re talking about. If I’m correct, you won’t find any references to her in these books. It’s not my place to explain the situation to you however. You should probably go speak with the brothers about her…” the butler paused for a second before continuing, “I believe Michael also knows a lot about the situation, though he doesn’t know the full story,” with that, he got up and pushed his chair in, “I must continue with my duties, but I appreciate the short reprieve. Good night.”

“Night,” Mc called after him. Huh. Michael knows?

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

Part Fifteen

I wanted to let you all know that as it is January, ever since 2014 the first moth of the year has been terrible for me. So far, we are 3 days into 2021, and I have already gotten a near constant tooth ache meaning I’m going to have to go to the dentist, and have gotten sick. I don’t know what else this month has in store for me, but I just wanted to warn you all, if my updates get sporadic or short, that’s why 😬

#OBEY ME #obey me!#obey me! swd #obey me satan #obey me satan/mc #obey me barbatos #obey me brothers #obey me! shall we date?#obey me mc #obey me long fic #obey me michael #obey me lilith #Finding You #my writing #aspenflower17

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nala-kenmore · 4 years

Conversation

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold

Nala:

By the time I arrive at the party, my head is killing me! I’m not sure if it’s the noise of the crowds and the loud music, but I feel like I’m going to struggle to make it another five minutes here, never mind however long it is until Michael makes some sort of big announcement! But I think it involves his present to me, so I have to be here for it! Stressed and unsure what to do, I block my mind to him for now, and instead summon my other brothers for support. Tiberius had already sent Marcellus off to get his nails cleaned up (and not threaten Quicksilver/get arrested again), so the other three arrive first. By the time they do, I’m almost in tears, both from the pain, and the stress of letting Michael down on his big day.

(Caelus): “Are you ok, Nala? Do you want some painkillers?”

I tell Caelus no with my mind, since I’ve already had the maximum amount you’re supposed to take in one day, and they haven’t helped at all!

(Tiberius): “Perhaps it would be wise to go to the infirmary. You really do not look well, sister…”

I can’t tell if he’s really that concerned, or whether he just wants an excuse to leave.

“I don’t want to worry Michael! This is supposed to be his most important celebration of the year, and he seemed really excited about the announcement! I can’t ruin this!”

Hypnos is oddly quiet, giving no suggestions. However, I sense his mind is full of panic, and the sadness and guilt that always seems to be there now is stronger than ever. I try to reassure both him and myself.

“It’s probably just stress from the past couple of days. If I can just calm down a little, then I’m sure-“

(Caelus): “Nala, you’re bleeding…”

As he says it, I feel liquid under my nose and automatically reach up with my hand to wipe it away. As I look down to my fingers, I see deep red.

All of a sudden, I know what I’m supposed to do. Without a shadow of a doubt, I know where I’m supposed to go. Or rather, to whom.

“I need to see Michael.” I state to the others. I begin to walk towards him, but get stopped by Tiberius.

(Tiberius): “Nala, do not be ridiculous. Let us take you directly to the infirmary, and we can summon him-“

(Hypnos): “Leave her be, Tiberius. We can go and fetch a medical hybrid from the main hive, while Nala goes to find Michael. I’m sure he’s who she really wants to see right now…”

I nod along to his words, and have to fight the temptation to just yank Tiberius’ arm away and start walking. I’m supposed to go and see Michael right now, I’m sure of it!

(Caelus): “I’ll take her to him. I promised I’d look out for her. I can’t leave her alone while she’s sick.”

Hypnos opens his mouth to argue, but hesitates. He glances around at the crowd, that is slowly starting to notice what is happening, before looking down sadly.

(Hypnos): “…Very well, Caelus. Tiberius, let us go.”

He pulls me in for a brief but tight hug, and then gives one to Caelus. I can’t return it since I’m too on edge to go and see Michael, like I know I’m supposed to do!

Tiberius looks shocked at the situation. I sense some sort of mental conversation between him and Hypnos, but I’m in too much pain and too distracted by my new compulsion to bother trying to overhear the details. In the end, Tiberius also stiffly reaches over to hug me and Caelus, before allowing Hypnos to lead him away.

(Hypnos): ((Nala… little sister… I am so sorry... I never thought that it would come to this, truly I didn’t…))

His words barely register with me, since now Caelus is tugging me along to where we can sense Michael is standing. I’m lucky that Caelus stayed, I’m more than a little unsteady on my feet, and have to clutch onto his arm so I don’t fall over. It’s slow going at first, between my unsteadiness and with how busy the party is. However, the crowd parts before us as more and more people begin to stare. I’m not sure whether anyone else says anything to me, my entire focus is on getting to where I need to be. Blood is still pouring from my nose, and Caelus picks up a paper napkin on the way over to try and stem the bleeding. However, by the time we get close to Michael, it’s been soaked through, and I can also feel liquid dripping down from my ears.

“Michael!” I call over to him to get his attention, and as soon as I have it, I know what words I have to say. Words put into my head a long time ago, along with the mental commands. “I have a message for you… from Tiberius…”

From then on, my lips form the words, but I speak in a trance, and it is Tiberius’ voice… the real Tiberius… that projects from my head to all the minds in the crowd.

“/((Hello, abomination. I suppose you believe that you won a great victory, in recovering our sister… But did you really think I would allow you to take her back, when what you took from me can never be returned? Do you remember that day, ‘brother’? The day that you tortured Queen Vipsania for hours, and forced me to chop off her head. Afterwards, I did not wish for revenge, I begged you only for death. But you refused me even that. I promised you I would make you suffer for that decision.))/”

I can’t process the words as I say them, I can’t really think at all. My hearing fades, and Caelus has to fully support me, to stop me from keeling over. I feel blood start to pour out from my eyes.

“/((That’s why I took Nala, so that you would know the pain of losing a child. And if you were ever to find her, I had Hypnos come up with a countermeasure. A drug that would work as a cure to the memory loss, but also induce another effect. It causes an accumulation of toxins inside the blood vessels of the brain- indetectable by scans and with no symptoms to the host, until it is too late. After two weeks, the toxins reach critical mass, and cause extensive haemorrhaging. I thought that was just enough time for you to start getting complacent… but not enough for you to turn her into too much of a freak again.))/”

My sense of vision and touch fade, all that’s left is the need to finish obeying the mental commands.

“/((I’m sure you’re upset, Michael, but take comfort in the fact that I showed you mercy. These two weeks have been my gift to you, your own little ‘family reunion’, in return for the one you gave to me. And I shall take comfort in the idea that, no matter what has happened to me- whether you killed me or made me into one of your freaks- I know you get to watch her bleed. I hope you enjoyed your reunion, Michael, but I’m afraid your time is up. ))/”

For those last few seconds, I know that I’m dying. I try to reach out to the people I care about- Michael, my brothers, Quicksilver- to share my final thoughts. But my mind is too badly damaged, and then it is gone.

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chibinekochan · 3 years

Text

Angel in Hell Season 2 part 9

part 1 | 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8

Gen. reader insert.

Words 2k

Taglist:

@gothjuulpod ; @purgatoryhall ; @sibit360 ; @a-personnamed-ace ; @romy350-romyakari

So now after the long last part, we are ending our journey.

Not everything will be resolved, much of the brother’s grieving process has barely even started.

They will certainly all face their battles to come to terms with what they have lost.

At the very least our angel Mc has found most of the answers for themselves. The rest will come with time.

Here is to an ending and new beginnings.

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

"What is going on here?" You hear Luke's voice.

"We are just discussing some important things." Lucifer waves him off.

"I'd like to ask the same question. Why are you wet and what is with Asmo keeping you steady?" Simeon looks sternly towards the brothers and keeps his eyes on Lucifer.

"I used too much mana healing Levi from a curse." You don't want Simeon to get the wrong idea.

"A curse?" Simeon looks confused.

"I think we should move somewhere else to discuss everything." Lucifer sounds exhausted.

"I'm not sure we should go anywhere with you." Simeon goes to your side while glaring at Lucifer.

"I'm okay with that." You feel that there are still things that Lucifer wants to say.

Lucifer looks at you and Simeon. Then he looks at his brothers. They all still seem very confused and sad.

"Maybe we can move that discussion to later. Just keep in mind that I haven't changed my position about you staying here. Whatever or whoever you are right now was never part of my concern. Even if you were just a normal reborn human or a demon I'd do the same thing." Lucifer states this calmly but it has so much weight that you aren't sure how to respond to that.

"You need to stop being so unreasonable." Simeon frowns at Lucifer.

"Well call me whatever you want but you don't have a patent on loving them." Lucifer glares back.

You suddenly feel like you are in the middle of a crossfire.

"Now now, we all love them but now is not the right time for this." Asmo tries to calm both men down, even when he seems pretty amused by it.

"You probably have a point." Lucifer still glares at Simeon but accepts a momentary truce.

"Everyone, we are going home. Satan cooks today and I will order ice-cream for everyone." Lucifer sighs.

Beel let's Levi go. "Finally I'm starving."

"C-can I have peanut butter flavored ice-cream?" Levi is still sobbing.

"You don't deserve any," Lucifer states coldly.

"I think he had enough for today. Just let him have the ice-cream Lucifer." You feel a bit bad for Levi, despite everything he looks very miserable.

Lucifer sighs and shrugs. "Fine, but better be thankful."

Levi nods.

Everyone else chuckles a little bit.

"Let's go then. Have a good day and rest up." Lucifer seems to only address you.

Simeon ignores this.

"You need to help them stand, Simeon." Asmo addresses Simeon.

You feel a bit better and are about to say no when you notice that Asmo is winking at you. You smile, knowing that he just tries to be nice. He really came around.

Simeon nods and gently holds your arm, to keep you steady.

"Thank you Asmo." You mostly thank him for being a friend.

"You better give me some juicy details later, "Asmo whispers but you are pretty sure that Simeon can still hear him.

The brothers walk-off, being oddly quiet.

Luke sighs. "What was that about?"

"I think they have a lot to think about." Simeon isn't fully sure either.

"I said it to the others but you don't have to worry about this angel and Mc being the same at all anymore. So my work is done. I have a dinner invitation from Diavolo. How about joining me, Luke?" Solomon seems nonchalant as always.

"Huh, why would I want to have dinner with you?" Luke is genuinely confused.

"We have a lot to catch up on." Solomon shrugs and whispers something to Luke. Realization seems to hit him. "Ahhh, yeah we have sooo much to talk about. Don't wait for me, you two." Luke overacts way too much.

It's pretty suspicious.

"Alright have fun, Luke." Simeon just accepts this without any further questions.

You wonder what this about but think that he just wants to give you some space.

"If you wish you can stay at the castle tonight. We have free rooms." Barbatos offers in a very kind manner, even when he just seemingly appeared out of thin air.

"Would that be better for you?" Simeon is worried about your condition.

"A bit of rest sounds great, to be honest, but I don't want to bother anyone." You admit a bit weakly.

"You are no bother. After all the hassle that the brothers have caused you. My lord simply desires to offer you some hospitality. In the hopes that you won't think badly of the devildom as a whole." Barbatos speaks in a very polite manner but it's easy to tell that he means his words.

"I think the devildom is a pretty great place overall. Everyone is very kind to me." You don't have any ill feelings in particular.

Barbatos smiles in a kind manner. "I'm glad to hear that. Lord Diavolo will be delighted to hear that. I suppose this is right for you as well, Simeon?"

"Sure, I have no issues with this." Simeon seems to be mostly concerned about you.

Barbatos nods and then shows you two to a room. It's very nice, with a comfortable couch and a large bed.

Simeon helps you to sit comfortably on the couch.

"Thank you Barbatos." You give him a grateful smile. Now where you sit you start to feel how tired you are.

Barbatos hands you a towel. "There are some clothes on the bed, please feel free to use them."

You rub your hair to dry it some more. "Thank you. My clothes are actually dry now. I had this magical stone to warm me up." You are grateful for that.

"Very well then I will leave you alone. Just call if you need anything from me." Barbatos bows and leaves the room.

Simeon sighs and then takes a blanket from the bed. "You should wrap yourself with this."

You nod and carefully place Lucifer's cape on the side.

The blanket feels nice. Simeon also pours you some tea. He still seems a bit uneasy but patiently waits for you to talk.

After drinking a bit you start the story. "So Levi got us all stuck in a game. Then he got upset and flooded everything. Lucifer saved me. Then Levi came to fight us all, but I think that was because of that cursed armor. I healed him and we all came back here. That's why I was so wet."

Simeon raises his eyebrows. He sighs. "They tend to cause problems. I'm just glad that you are unharmed. You should be careful. I'm also a bit sad that I didn't get to see you in action. I bet that was amazing." He smiles a bit.

You blush. "It wasn't that great."

Simeon chuckles lightly.

"When we came back here Solomon just dropped that I'm artificially made. I mean it's better than being made off... Well you know. So that means I have no sealed memories. I only share Mc's soul and their looks. I'm still not quite sure how to feel about all of that." You look into your cup.

Simeon is quiet for a moment. Thinking about his words. Then he gets up from his seat and hugs you. It's very unexpected but it feels nice.

He is so warm, you hug him back.

"You can take your time to figure it all out." He softly whispers.

"I think I'm glad that I'm not someone else. That sounds pretty selfish doesn't it?" You aren't sure if relief is something you should feel right now.

"I'm glad that you are you, and it's not selfish for you to wish to be yourself. I also think that they were unreasonable to ask this of you in the first place." Simeon sits down next to you.

This feels better than having him across from you.

"What did Michael say?" You aren't sure what to add to Simeon's words and you still need to know about that.

"He skirts around a concrete answer so we are staying in the devildom for now. Well, they won't force us back. So conflict has been averted for now. I hope you are okay with staying here after all of this?" Simeon was hoping for a better answer, for your sake.

"I kinda like the devildom, even when I could use about 60 percent less drama. I was actually thinking of getting a haircut and a makeover or something. I kinda want to look different, you know. It's been pretty hard looking at myself lately." You aren't quite sure what you exactly want to change but it sounds good.

"Hmm, maybe some shorter hair would look good on you. You could also just dye it pink." Simeon chuckles a bit.

You puff your cheeks. "Simeon I'm being serious here!"

He laughs. "I know I'm sorry. I think you will look great in the end no matter what."

You shake your head. "You are such a tease sometimes, but it's kinda nice to see you like this."

"You want to be teased?" He grins.

"No, I don't! I just mean it's nice seeing you so casual." You blush a little.

"Ah, I see. I guess I was pretty formal lately. I will do better from now on." Simeon has to agree.

"I look forward to that." You smile. Suddenly you remember and almost jump up, slightly startling Simeon.

"I completely forgot about the cookies I made you. I'm sure they are ruined now…" You rummage in your pocket and find the bag. It miraculously survived.

You pull it out. "It survived!" You say gleefully.

"These must be pretty special." Simeon gently looks at the bag.

You nod and hand him the bag.

He curiously opens it, the cookies are all broken. You look at the sight with pain. Too bad now Simeon will never guess their meaning.

Simeon looks curiously at the crumps in his hand. "Were these heart-shaped?"

"They were… Luke told me that humans use this shape to express their love." You feel suddenly very embarrassed.

Simeon smiles at you. "Thank you very much I appreciate them." He eats one of the cookies, with great delight.

Simeon doesn't mind at all that they all got broken.

You feel great relief. "I'm truly grateful I have you. Without your support, I would have never come this far."

"I'm sure you would have managed just fine without me but I'm glad that I can be your support." Simeon gently smiles. Conveying his sincere admiration for you.

"I'm not done, let me finish." There is probably not enough time in the universe to tell him everything that is in your mind.

Simeon nods.

"You have been my mentor for a long time and then my friend for probably the same amount of time. I think I have known for longer but I was just denying it but you aren't just a friend to me anymore. Despite all of this chaos around me, there was something that became crystal clear to me. No matter what might happens next I want you to be at my side. Not only as a friend but as the person who I love with all my heart." You lay it all right in front of Simeon. Finally admitting your feelings not only to yourself but most importantly to Simeon.

He seems slightly surprised by your confession. "Do you mean romantically?" Simeon wants to prevent any further confusion.

"Yes." You state clearly without a second of hesitation.

Simeon takes your hand and he has a smile that you have never seen before. He is so radiant right now. "I'm so glad that you feel the same way about me."

It's almost like a dam has been broken. Emotions seem to be flowing from Simeon.

You can see a slight blush on his cheeks.

Your cheeks blush in turn.

He leans his forward towards yours and looks deep into your eyes.

He has never been this close to you. Your heart starts to race.

Never before in your life did you want to kiss someone this badly.

Your nose’s touch. Simeon looks at you with such love. You can only hope that the same love is reflected in your eyes.

After a moment that feels like an eternity your lips meet only for a short moment.

Then again a bit longer this time.

Both of you seem to want more of that sweet sensation.

The next kiss feels more passionate.

It's all so new but yet strangely familiar.

You are so glad that you finally told Simeon your feelings.

With a gentle and happy smile, Simeon looks at you. "I'm so glad you came into my life."

These words mean so much to you, you feel tears in your eyes.

"It's alright. I'm here." Simeon whispers.

And then suddenly tears start to fall. You don't even know why you are crying, or who you are crying for.

It's not even a feeling of sadness.

It feels freeing, like all the weight that has been building up inside of you is flowing from your body.

You cling to Simeon and just sob, like a child.

He gently holds you close and just supports you without a word.

"I love you, Simeon." You weakly tell him between sobbing.

You probably look very ugly right now but Simeon however looks at you with his gentle gaze. "I love you too."

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

This was all very bittersweet.

Some parts really hurt while writing them.

Other parts made me smile.

I hope you enjoyed the story and its ending.

As a final note, I really like the fact that Mc got many people supporting them and Simeon.

A huge note to all of you Simeon and Angel Mc shippers, it's all thanks to you.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #angel in hell #obey me angel au #obey me simeon #omswd

18 notes · View notes

spaceskam · 4 years

Text

day 3 of @alexmanesappreciation: legacy but I took a lot of liberties (also a follow up to the fic i wrote for day 2)

warning: memory loss, teenager-esque jealousy, mentions of Caulfield & 2x12

ao3

Alex knew he must've misunderstood something whenever Maria got there.

Michael caught her by the hand before she could run up to Alex and he pulled her to the side to have a word. But Alex wasn't stupid. He saw the way he touched her and the way she touched him and how close they stood while speaking to one another. It made him more uncomfortable than the fact he was standing half naked and letting Kyle and Liz prod at his body like he was a science experiment. Maybe he was.

Alex watched them until they finished their conversation. Michael squeezed her hand before letting go and she nodded simply. Maria turned to him with a big, cautious smile and came closer. With permission from Liz to touch him, she wrapped him up in her arms. He wanted to be happy to see her, but he couldn't take his eyes off Michael. What were they keeping from him?

"I'm so glad you're okay, I was worried sick," Maria said sincerely, squeezing him. Alex hugged her back easily and tried to stop looking at Michael. Just because he'd lost 10 years of his memory and it was super important to find out who and why didn't mean they could leave out massive plot points like Maria and Michael touching each other like that. But if they left it out and Michael kissed him, maybe he was looking into it too much. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and sore," Alex answered. His whole face was throbbing and it hurt to use his crutches because of the bruising on his ribs.

But Kyle got Isobel Evans of all people to stop by his house and get something they called an iwalk. It fit around his not-leg and was sort of a substitute for a prosthetic so he could stand up without irritating his leg more. He hated it.

"I bet," Maria said, "But you still look hot despite all the bruises, so take it as a win."

"Yeah, I will," he said, eyes going back to Michael who was standing over her shoulder, "Can I put my clothes back on now?"

"Oh, yeah, of course, sorry," Liz said, rambling as she had been, "I just need to take a blood sample, but you can have your clothes on for that."

Michael came over to him then as if it was his job to help him get dressed. He grabbed the pair of sweats and the t-shirt he’d brought for him so he didn’t have to put back on the ones he’d been wearing the whole time he’d been allegedly kidnapped. Alex carefully sat down on the stool and started unlatching his thigh from the iwalk thing. Michael’s hands instinctively went to help.

“Stop it,” Alex said, catching his chin in his hand and pulling him into a kiss. Michael smiled into it and so Alex dragged it on as long as he was allowed, deepening it without concern for who might see since everyone could see. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t peek to see if Maria saw. And she clearly had because she looked away.

“Whoa, okay,” Michael laughed, pulling away. His cheeks were red and Alex was obsessed. It made all the bad things happening a little bit better. “Let’s get you dressed, huh?”

They took the straps off his thigh and Alex used Michael as leverage to pull the sweats over his hips. He pulled the shirt on carefully and slowly due to his face and ribs while Michael tied off the hanging end of the sweats. The whole process took, like, five whole minutes. So long that Alex had to pull him back in for a kiss when they were done.

“Alright, we get it,” Liz laughed, nudging Michael out of the way. Alex reluctantly let him out of his grasp. “After I take a blood sample, do you want painkillers?”

Alex felt himself relax a little at the offer. “You have some?”

“Yeah, do you need them?”

“I would prefer them,” he admitted. It was easy to push aside his discomfort when Michael was kissing and touching him. But he couldn’t have that forever and he was still hurting. Hell, he couldn’t even see out of one of his eyes.

“Okay, let me take a sample so I can start getting to work and figuring out how to fix this,” Liz said, wiping down a spot on his arm with an alcohol pad. He’d had so many of those on him in the last hour that he was surprised he wasn’t getting drunk through his skin.

“Didn’t you say someone else had this stuff in them too? Didn’t you try to find a cure for it then?” Alex asked. Liz looked up at him, face a little grim.

“Well, with Cam, we didn’t really know who or what to expect to find in her memories. She had a much weaker dose and it only erased what she saw when she was taken. She wasn’t exactly super excited to remember those weeks,” Liz explained, trying to force a kind smile, “You know, it’s a little weird seeing 29-year-old Alex’s face, but with 19-year-old Alex’s voice and eyes.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex asked just as she pushed a needle into his arm. He didn’t even wince.

“You look older, but... you carry yourself a bit lighter when you were young,” Liz explained, “Before everything.”

It was a small suggestion, but it had Alex’s mind reeling. Before everything? Was she insinuating things got worse? Or maybe she didn’t know about the shed. Maybe she had no idea what she was talking about.

Alex looked to Michael for some type of elaboration, but his eyes involuntarily went for his hand. It was all wrapped beneath a bandana, but it hid... nothing. He jumped at the sight of that, frantically looking up to Michael’s face.

“Whoa, stay still,” Liz said, “Still drawing blood.”

“What happened to your hand? I-It looks fine. I don’t understand,” Alex said, panic building in him again. Maybe this wasn’t just a weird time-jump, maybe he was in a different universe all together. “Wait, did... did my dad still...”

He didn’t know how to ask the question. And, apparently, no one knew how to answer.

The air got heavy and everyone around them stilled while Liz slowly pulled the needle out of his arm and replaced it with a band-aid. Alex’s eyes were stuck on Michael who shifted uncomfortably at the topic.

“Yeah, that still happened,” Michael said softly, clearing his throat as he looked to Liz, “I was thinking that maybe they took him to erase all of the shit he knew to make him less of a threat.”

Everyone noticed the drastic subject change, but didn’t address it. Alex, however, wasn’t as easily subdued. He wanted to know. He opened his mouth again, but he was cut off by Kyle handing him a couple pills and a water bottle. After he took that, he was again cut off by Michael stepping in close. Alex took his hand since clearly he wasn’t going to get much in the way of an explanation.

He ran his fingertips over the unscarred skin while his adult friends talked around him.

“But what’s the point of that? I mean, he obviously already had an attachment to you,” Isobel chimed in. Alex made that even more obvious by resting his head against Michael’s chest. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear their conversation. How was his hand so smooth again? How had he gone so long without noticing?

“Maybe they were trying to go further and failed,” Michael suggested, “Or maybe they just wanted to erase the alien thing to try and warp his position.”

Before Alex could even ask what the hell he was talking about, his mind blurred.

“Do you want to know who I am, or do you wanna know what I am?”

“Yes.”

Alex gasped and clutched Michael’s hand, looking up at him with wide eyes. Michael looked at him in concern and they just stared for a few minutes. Alex could feel that familiar buzz under his skin, contentment of being with him mixing with that tumultuous fire of arguing with him. Because apparently they did that a lot... they argued.

“What? What happened?” Michael asked, his hand laying on Alex’s neck and using his thumb to hold his chin up. Alex looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“My dad was the reason I know,” Alex murmured, “He told me. I’m not gonna sway on my stance no matter when I find out.”

Michael stared at him for a moment, eyes flickering over his face as he tried to process what he said. Then he pressed a kiss to his forehead and Alex let himself relax back into Michael. He hated this, hated not remembering everything. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Something about him made it easy to make him not remember. Trauma really was a bitch.

“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the goal,” Michael said, “Maybe they were just trying to take out our biggest threat.”

“But then why would they give him back? And why would they drop him off at your place?” Kyle asked.

“Well, he was asleep when I got there. Maybe he still had his memories and he escaped and my place was the closest, but the drug activated whenever he passed out,” Michael suggested, his hand rubbing up and down Alex’s back.

“Do you really think he’d be able to escape on his own after getting beat up that bad?” Maria asked. Michael huffed a small laugh.

“Yeah. Especially if he still had his memories.”

They kept talking, kept brainstorming, and Alex kept feeling more and more exhausted. The painkillers dulled his nerves enough for him to focus on the fact that he needed sleep and trying to remember more than one offhanded conversation and the vague context of it was making him suffer even more. He turned the good side of his face into Michael’s chest and closed his eyes. He felt safe there.

“So, what, we think he got taken and his memory erased to fuck up his role in dismantling a legacy? Wouldn’t they have taken me too?” Kyle asked.

“No offense, but you haven’t exactly been hands on lately,” Liz said as kindly as possible. Kyle scoffed. “But from what I can tell, it’s definitely Butyricol. Same grimy little cells lurking in his blood.”

“Gross.”

“Absolutely. But I’m thinking if I can extract it I can work with it enough to see if I can make something that, you know, brings back memories, sort of like a human-equivalent to the alien antidote I made. Otherwise we’re stuck with him getting maybe one or two every once in awhile,” Liz said.

“How long do you think that’ll take?” Michael asked, one hand still rubbing his back and the other cupping the back of his head. Alex was more at peace than he’d been in awhile despite the fact they were all talking about him.

“Long enough for you to let him take a nap, but not so long you should leave and risk running into more trouble,” Liz told him. Michael nodded.

“Okay, then we’re just gonna go lay in Kyle’s car.”

“No fucking in my car.”

“Obviously.”

Alex reluctantly sat up and grabbed his crutches. He hated this whole missing leg thing. He wanted his memories back if only so he could be used to it again. If that version of him was used to it. Would he ever be?

He gave an extra look to his friends. Liz and Kyle were already getting to work. Maria gave him a kind smile. Isobel was... there. And Michael was watching him, ready to catch him if he needed it.

It was a slow and irritating process making it over the messy halls and desert terrain to get to the car, but they eventually found themselves cuddled up in the backseat of the car. Alex basically laid on top of Michael, trying to get some sleep. But he couldn’t, not quite. Not until he asked the question bothering him the most.

“We’re not together, are we?” he whispered. Michael was quiet for a little while, his thumb never stopping the smooth circles he rubbed into his shoulder.

“No,” he answered, “We’re not.”

“You’re with Maria,” Alex filled in, “I saw the way you guys touched each other.”

Michael took a deep, slow breath and it made Alex rise with him. He just waited for an explanation of how Maria, if she really was his girlfriend, was letting him be so hands on with Alex. Of course, Alex wasn’t mad about it. He missed Michael. Both with and without his memories.

“We’re... over. We were sort of in the middle of a breakup before you showed back up because I spent the last week ignoring her and tearing the world apart trying to find you,” Michael said, “She wasn’t mad that I was looking for you or anything, I guess it just finally clicked that... It doesn’t matter, we agreed we’d talk later, but right now it’s all about making sure you’re safe and comfortable.”

Alex lifted his head a little to look at his eyes. He was gorgeous. Sadder and rougher than Alex remembered, but gorgeous.

“But you still like me?” Alex wondered. Michael huffed a small laugh, his hand carefully combing through his hair.

“Alex,” he said, his eyes flicking around his face. Alex noticed the moment he decided on what he wanted to say and he said it with confidence. “I love you.”

Alex’s mouth felt dry and his not-swollen eye widened. Love. That was new.

Again, before Alex could find his words, his mind blurred again.

“They’re my family, Alex!”

“Alright, maybe! But you are mine!”

Alex came back with another gasp, trying to ground himself again as Michael stared at him. The two second memory flooded him with residual gratitude that he was here. He was alive. He was his.

“I don’t look away, Guerin,” Alex told him. Slowly, a smile showed on his face and it might’ve been the most beautiful think Alex had ever seen.

“Was that just one memory, or...” Michael said, a hopeful little tinge to his voice. Alex hated to let him down, but he nodded.

“Just one,” he whispered. Michael’s smile didn’t fade any as he nodded.

“Then I want you to know I loved you then and I love you now. When you remember all the bullshit I’ve done to you, remember that I loved you through it all. I never stopped, okay? If they erased your memory to fuck with your place in your family’s legacy, than I’m gonna go ahead and use it to fuck with ours too. We were meant to be together and to be happy. I know that for a fact and I know people died to make it so. So, I’m saying it now. I have always and will always love you, Alex Manes,” Michael told him.

Something akin to giddy laughter bubbled out of Alex at the words he was hearing, his whole system flushed with love and appreciation. He knew once he got his memories back, he’d probably feel different. From the way Michael was speaking, he knew he would feel different.

But right now he felt like he was on top of the world.

“I love you too,” Alex said, moving up to kiss him, “And I’m really upset we agreed not to fuck in Kyle’s car.” Michael laughed.

“You’re hurt.”

“Yeah, but I’m 19 and sleeping with a guy in Kyle Valenti’s car sounds like the best kind of revenge.”

Michael laughed again, pressing another kiss to his lips as he said, “Yeah, well, your body isn’t 19 and 29-year-old you might have a problem with me letting you get bent like that when you probably haven’t done your PT in over a week.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Bent? That sounds like a challenge.”

“Go to sleep,” Michael told him, still grinning as he led Alex’s head to the crook of his neck, “I know you feel good right now, but this is just the beginning to a whole slew of bullshit that’ll come whenever we figure out who took you and what happened over the last week.”

Alex rolled his eyes, but agreed. It was hard to sleep with the adrenaline pumping through his system at Michael’s I love you, but eventually his fatigue caught up with him.

Later, he woke up to Liz excitedly telling him that she was sure she found a way to reverse it. They injected him with it and they waited.

It didn’t happen immediately. In fact, they had to deal with a lot of stuff before he really got those memories back. They had to deal with his father, namely, and Crashcon. It was difficult trying to act like he knew what all these people had become and trying to assimilate just a little bit at a time. Even with Michael it was hard. There were pieces missing that made things different.

It all came to a head, though, when Alex found himself staring at his brother standing between his father’s gun and Michael Guerin.

“I know what he means to Alex.”

And suddenly Alex did too.

(ps if you want a fic where they actually bang in kyle’s car, check out @prouvaireafterdark‘s fic here because what am i if not slowly becoming a lynne fanpage)

#alexweek2020 #alexappreciation2020 #malex fic #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

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vnights · 3 years

Text

A ‘fun’ day out

———

Once again, depictions of children in harmful situations. Just a warning, folks !!

———

Two cars travel next to one another down a long, quiet road. In one, Johnathan and Michael sit in the back seat, William being up front. In the other, little Charlotte and Elizabeth, with Henry at the wheel instead. Both men landed their days off on the same day, so, they decided to spend it on their kids, who haven’t seen one another in a while. Just a nice little treat for everyone.. The parents included. They pulled into a small parking lot, each stepping out of their cars, the kids uniting in between their vehicles while waiting for both fathers to join them. Henry carried out two boxes of juice pouches, while William held a large container of cheese-puffs and a bag of mini bags of assorted chips.

“Wh- Will... Why so many puffs?..” Henry commented playfully, raising a brow.

“You didn’t specify!” The men held a small bicker, being interrupted by the children, urging everyone towards the playground.

The parents set up their little station at a nearby pair of benches under a shelter for shade. The boxes were open, the chips were handed, and those cheese-puffs were uncapped. The children made off like bandits, collecting their treats and running off to play. William and Henry stayed back for conversation, keeping a somewhat strict, somewhat loose eye on them.

Immediately, the games had begun. Competitions over who’s the ‘ruler’ of the play-tower, making and destroying sand-castles, learning how to slide on their tummies, pretending they’re flying through space on the swings.. This went on for hours upon hours, before normal kid activities became a bit too boring for the eldest Afton child. Johnathan began plotting, finding his brother minding his own business, crouched down while showing his golden-plushy a cool flower he found. A Grinch-like smile rose to the olders lips, Johnny sneaking over fiendishly.

“Ha ha!” He shouted, snatching the bear up unexpectedly. Michael gasped and stood up, reaching for it. “Don’t try me, baby! Freddy’s at my mercy, now!”

“He’s Fredbear, give him back-!” Mike attempted again and again to grab it back, being hopelessly denied via height comparison. Once Johnathan looked over and saw both the girls coming over, he knew this joke was about to reach a point of no-fun. With a snicker, he tossed the bear twice in his hand, followed by him absolutely punting the stuffie into the nearby trees. “Wh-!! No!..” Michael whined, beginning to chase after his beloved bear as his brother laughed hysterically.

Running down the very slight hill and getting a considerable distance away from everyone else, Mike found his poor plush lodged in a bush. He quickly raced over and pulled him out, dusting the crumpled leaves off him and hugging him tightly after, something new and strange catching his ear. Something is.. Roaring. He raised his toes in an attempt to spot the strange noise, his eyes widening as water flowed in the distance. He raised his stuffie in the air and stepped into the plants, letting his bear be his eyes.

“What is it?... ..What’s a torrent?..” Michael was cut off, hearing the others come to join him. He got out of the bush and pointed, excitedly bouncing.

“What is it, Mikey? What’d you find?” Charlie asked as they jogged over, all the kids surrounding each other.

“Water! There’s a lotta water over there..” Mike moved aside, letting the others see, and fight for the best view.

“Whooaaa, it’s like a bridge! Look at the rocks!” Johnny shouted in excitement, pointing to rocks stationed in the waves, set up like stepping stones. He moved in, crossing the woodlands to get a closer look. Being the oldest, of course he was followed, the smaller children wanting to get close, too.

As they got to the flowing water, Johnathan took off his shoes and socks, looking 100% ready to jump in. Mike was anxious.. He thought it was a bad idea to even mess with this. As for the girls, they were entirely on Johnny’s side, their excitement building to cross this natural pathway. The moment his older brother jumped on the first stone, Michael gasped loudly and turned away, burying his face into his plushie, leading to Elizabeth to tease him over being a scaredy-cat. She then took her opportunity to play, skipping over once Johnny was finished, flawlessly reaching the other side.

“It’s okay, Mikey. I can go next if you’re scared..” Charlotte gave him a smile, moving to hop across. Like the two before her, she effortlessly bounced across the rocks, until the middle section. She slipped, falling over and slamming into the step below her, the fast-flow dragging her into the water, leaving no time to process the bruising pain. Eliza screamed loudly as Johnny gasped, unsure of what to do or how to help. Michael, however, knew exactly what to do, even if his siblings didn’t agree. He took his Fredbear and darted away, racing quickly back to the playground, and eventually to the parents.

William and Henry, in their own little bubble of the world, were about to witness history. With a juice box in both hands, the straw in his mouth, Will made sure the other was watching before he squeezed the box tightly, flattening it, and unintentionally shooting juice all over his face, squeezing each of his features shut as a reaction. Henry merely sighed, running his hand across his forehead in disappointment, before they were both pulled back into reality, watching the young boy hurry over. Catching his breath and pointing to the direction of interest, he tattled, spilling everything. Both men stood at the speed of light, William grabbing Mike’s hand before racing to find the rest of their children. Following Michael’s directions, the fear of God was struck into each of them as they saw the incident. Charlie caught in the water, with Eliza and Johnny across the torrent. Before another thought, Henry was already in the hip-deep water, pushing through the waves to reach his panicked, sobbing daughter.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve gotcha now, don’t worry, angel-“ He comforted her softly, lifting her up in a deep cuddle while moving back to Mike and William. He handed Charlie up to the other man, who happily scooped her into a cuddle. “Take her back to the seats, if you could.”

“Sure. We’ll be waiting.” William turned to head back to their little camp, giving Charlotte continuous sways and nuzzles. She waved goodbye to the others, sniffing in with more tears falling.

“Mike, could you stay here? Be my lil’ helper, bud?” Henry asked, giving the boy a smile while Michael nodded. He went back across the water and called to Elizabeth, who came over to be carried back to the proper side of the water. Michael grabbed her hand and pulled her up to safety, both the kids watching their temporary caretaker turn back and do the same with Johnathan, who.. Wanted to be difficult. Letting him hop over the stones as before, Henry pulled himself back up into the grass and caught his breath, picking up a new topic with the kids. “Hey, hey, listen... Your dad’s gonna be mad. From me to you, it’s nobodies fault, okay?”

“Okay.” They all answered the same.

With the older man standing up and walking back with slushy shoes, both Elizabeth and Johnathan looked at Michael, scowls on their face. They all followed Henry passed the bushes and a little farther, eventually stopping to speak amongst themselves, waiting for their guide to get out of ear-shot. Michael, confused, took a single look at his brother before he was pushed down with a hard thud, leading into Johnathan standing over him.

“Why’d you have to tell?! We could’ve done it ourselves!” He nearly shouted, his frown growing darker. “You’re always such a baby! Every time the SMALLEST THING happens you always have to run to daddy! Now, we’re all gonna get in trouble!”

“Yeah! And Charlie’s hurt now, too!” Elizabeth added.

“Thanks for finding that lake, Mike. Real cool! C’mon Lizzie..” Both Johnny and Eliza moved on, leaving Michael sitting in the dirt.

The boy watched his siblings walk away, feeling sadness and guilt swell up in his stomach. His tears began to fall as he sniffed in, standing to dust himself off and grab his plushie, crying the rest of the way to their station where everyone else waited. While Henry sat with his daughter, taking a look at her hurt arm, William stood and paced, waiting for his own kids to arrive. When he paced, they knew they were screwed. And, oh, how screwed they were.

“Look who’s decided to show up! Sit down. Now.” There it is, the order. Will watched his kids line up and take their seats, each keeping their heads down. “We gave you an entire playground to play at. What happened?!”

“Will.. Settle, okay? They’re all a bit freaked out.”

A low grumble followed the other mans request, William sighing. “...Did anyone else get hurt? Is everyone else okay?”

All the kids nodded, Michael being a bit hesitant. Looking over at poor Charlotte, weeping over the pain in her arm, it was Henry’s decision that it’s best they hit the road. While the parents packed up all the things, William insisting the Emily’s take most, of not all of it, the children waited in the car, completely silent. The tension was building as the siblings watched their friends drive away, and their own father enter the drivers seat, as silent as the rest of them. Just as the previous family had, they too went home, not a single word being spoken the whole way. It was an agonizing trip.

The moment they pulled in and parked in their driveway, William made it clear that the next few hours weren’t going to be easy for them. “Get inside and sit at the table. We have so much to talk about.” On command, the children listened, getting out of the car and going inside with him. While they took their ordered seats, Will grabbed 6 pieces of paper and 3 pens, setting them in front of the kids. “You’re going to write a letter to both Charlotte and her father. You’re going to give your most sincere, heartfelt apology to that little girl, and Henry, and you’ll also be thanking him for helping you across, am I understood?” Eliza was quick to nod and immediately get to writing, while Michael was slower, and Johnny just didn’t do it. It took William slamming the table for him to get started. “And once you’re done, you’re going to walk to their home, and hand-deliver these letters! And then once you’re home, there will be no dessert, and you’ll all be going to sleep an hour early! Then maybe you’ll think twice, or possibly at all before doing something so silly and reckless! I’ll be in my room. Get on it, and don’t argue!”

Once they were left alone, Elizabeth expressed her sad-stubbornness through a small tear fit. Johnny merely took it out on Mike, kicking his feet beneath the table, and wrote at an incredibly slow speed. Nevertheless... They got their notes done, they made the trip, they came back home, and sulked in their rooms. A good day was turned bad in the blink of an eye. But, no matter how bad today went,

tomorrow is another day.

#fnaf #five nights at freddys #Henry Emily #Charlotte Emily #William Afton #Johnathan Afton #Michael Afton #Elizabeth Afton #//I FINALLY GOT THIS OOOUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTT #//HEY HEYYYYYY #//LIL’ MORE WITH THE FAM FT. THEIR PALS :)

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syms-things-5 · 3 years

Text

Clear The Area - Chapter Seventeen

Previous Chapter Here

Warnings: Strong language and an air of discomfort.

Notes: I hope this reads OK as it’s quite dialogue-heavy.

Tags: @kelbabyblue @jennmurawski13

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The night shifts weren’t all bad. From time to time, they were even as good as “pretty straight forward”. They proved especially useful when trying to finish patient notes and random admin that always got left to the very end of the shift. Perhaps they’d endure a tidy-out of the stock cupboards if the crew was feeling generous. Since O’Brien had taken up his post at the hospital years earlier, he had insisted upon mandatory training updates for the ER units every three to four months (the national average was about once a year) so the team were regularly reminded not to set fire to their computers and not to leave boxes in places people could trip over. You’d be surprised how often both those things happened in an emerging crisis.

“I swear he thinks we’re idiots half the time.” Complained Jack, his head now glued to the palm of his hand. Jack was hurtling towards an early retirement thanks to an ever-increasing distrust of the corporate environment ER departments found themselves in. We trained to save lives, he’d say, not file stat reports. He was so right, it hurt.

The crew was sat round the reception desk. The ER was empty except for a local homeless man the team allowed in from time to time to sleep off his latest drunken adventures.

“Who doesn’t know how to bend their knees when lifting something heavy?” Jack asked again.

“Ryan for one.” Sarah joked, pointing her cold cup of tea towards the fellow nurse in question. Ryan was a tall and skinny guy, not dissimilar to Alexander Skarsgard in the right light but with less charm although he had left a few of the interns swooning of late. Shanna quite liked him, too.

“One time, Sarah. One time and I suffered for it greatly.” Ryan remarked, spinning a full 360 in his swivel chair. “Did you tick ‘agree’ or ‘strongly agree’ for question eleven?”

“Oh, if you don’t tick ‘strongly agree’ even if you only ‘agree’, they mark you down a couple of percentage points.” Entered Audrey, slamming down a pile of files on the desk beside Sarah. Their nightly routine just got more interesting. “Just get it over with. It’s not worth the effort. It’s just O’Brien being obsessed with stats again. He turns everything into a competition. I swear it’s unhealthy.”

Ryan looked momentarily confused before returning to face his computer screen. He re-read the question for the fifth time and rubbed his eyes in resignation. Something about 3am made this far too complicated.

“When did you even find time to do this, Aud?” Jack asked, turning back to Sarah and Audrey in time to witness their shared look self-satisfaction. “I’ve been sat here for half an hour and am still only part way through the first section.”

“I logged in at home earlier.” she responded before catching Sarah’s quizzical look. “Well, Michael did most of it for me.”

“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Jack, chucking his pen on the table, giving up. “Got no chance then, have I? Michael’s a bloody genius. Hey, how much for him to do mine?”

“Normally I’d say $100 but he’s pretty cheap these days.” shrugged Audrey. “Probably a fancy cigar would do.”

“He still grumpy about the you-know-what?” whispered Sarah to her friend when the guys started joshing between themselves.

Audrey leaned back on the desk beside her and took the mug from Sarah’s hands to take a sip, grimacing slightly at the sweetness. For some reason, Sarah had to have at least three sugars in her tea if she was drinking it post-midnight. It helped to keep her more alert apparently. She didn’t drink it like that at any other time of the day. “No more than usual. Seems like we’re both unlucky in that department at the moment.”

Sarah smiled at her in acknowledgement, lips thin before biting the inside of her cheek.

Following their last meet-up, Chris had been decidedly quiet. Too quiet almost. It was weird. He hadn’t messaged her. He hadn’t called or visited their apartment except to collect a parcel he had left. Sarah has been out for a run at the time and had felt silently glad to have missed him. He hadn’t updated his twitter and there had been multiple sports events occurring that would have guaranteed a humblebrag or five. Shanna had pledged to buy rib-eye steaks for a Saturday night meal during a Celtics game and he had cancelled at the last minute citing an interview he had conveniently forgotten. Even Audrey thought it was weird. If anything was guaranteed to get his attention and bring him out of whatever funk he was in, it was the promise of sports and a ‘Grade A’ barbeque.

Shanna merely put it down to his laziness or him having something better turn up. Scott had started replacing Chris around their apartment, wanting to get some of his own distance from the tricky Zach situation and it helped her feel better knowing he was at least in touch with him if Shanna wasn’t. He was evidently still alive.

Sarah decided to swap a couple of daytime stints to partner up with Audrey for the nights. She needed the comfort of working with a good friend to calm her down from whatever ledge her anxiety had placed her on.

“You know that he’ll come back, right?” Audrey interrupted her thoughts. Maybe Sarah spoke too soon. “Haven’t you got that birthday thing for Lisa coming up?”

That trip was a couple of weeks away yet. She was trying to bank some reasonable excuses but everything sounded lame in the cold light of day and Lisa was never going to accept her not coming as well. Surely things would have smoothed themselves out by then?

“This won’t just fix itself, hun, you’ll need to speak to him eventually. And the sooner the better.”

It was like Audrey had a hotline straight into Sarah’s psyche. It was unnerving at the best of times. Sarah knew she was right of course. It’s just, a little bit of distance would be a good thing, right? Even Chris himself had offered that advice from time to time, and stressing herself out at this point almost seemed counterintuitive.

“I reckon you could go in an hour or so if you wanted.” Audrey offered, nudging her friend with her elbow to bring her back into the room. “It’s dead out there.”

“I hope not.” Sarah joked, trying to lighten the mood. “We’d be shit at our jobs if that was the case.”

Audrey laughed for the first time since Sarah could remember that day. It was moments like this that reminded her of why she enjoyed working alongside her so much, and why she didn’t mind if it resulted in overtime.

“You wanna take patient referrals while I take the EPRs?”

“How can I refuse an offer like that?” Sarah picked up the dozen or so documents sat in front of her and grabbed the nearest chair. Audrey told her she’d put the kettle on and nudged the guys still glued to their screens. Ryan had pretty much given up logical thinking and was now ticking random boxes. Jack was cursing under his breath. O’Brien was going to be in for a real treat when he could finally tabulate the responses.

It was nearing 6.20am when Sarah and Audrey finally packed up to go. Matt and Stephanie had just arrived to take over for the morning, bringing a fresh perspective for the day. There wasn’t much for them to catch up on so it should be a smooth few hours at least. Sarah even ran a mop through the staff locker room as an added gift – Steph was a notorious clean freak – nearly tripping Greg up in the process.

He’d been on leave for the past fortnight and his hair was a little longer than she remembered. A five o’clock shadow graced the lower part of his face and it suited him more than she thought it would. He had kept up with the informal tie-less attire and he seemed to be, dare she it, enjoying himself.

“God, I’m so sorry.” She held her hands up in a mock mea culpa. “I was just gonna put it away before heading out. It was a stupid place to leave it.”

“Did you not take the Health and Safety refresher?” he joked, rebalancing himself and trying to play down the redness creeping into his cheeks from the embarrassment of temporarily losing his footing in front of her.

“You gonna rat me out to O’Brien? ‘Cos you know as well as I do that he doesn’t need yet another reason to know he’s right.” She shifted the mop and bucket and placed them back in the supply closet before reaching for her bag again.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He moved passed her before turning to face her again. “Tell you the truth, I ghosted the last couple of tabs myself. Who knew there were so many ways to ask questions about standing in elevators?”

Sarah rolled her eyes in acknowledgement. “Yeh. I can’t wait to have the team meeting when he realises we’ve all pretty much done the same thing. That’s gonna be fun. I might finally take some of my holiday.”

“Yeh, good plan. Hey listen,” His words stopped her in her tracks, feet from the exit. “Um, I know it’s been a while but I was wondering if you might want to reschedule that tennis match some time? Or if not, we could get some dinner or something? There’s that new sushi place on Reagan Street. It’s meant to be really good if you fancy it?”

She was indeed familiar with that very restaurant thanks to the glowing reviews she had been unable to avoid since it opened. Audrey had only mentioned it a mere thousand times in her presence. Word was that bookings were now months in advance so she wasn’t sure how Greg was hoping to find a table unless he wanted to make plans with her in November. Given the number of commitments he always appeared to have going on, it wouldn’t be completely outside the realm of possibility.

“Wow, I thought that place was fully booked?”

“Yeh, it is, but I went to college with one of the investors and he’s promised me a one-off.”

Of course he did. Sarah bit her bottom lip to stop herself from chuckling out loud, imagining Audrey’s face when she would inevitably find out. To be honest, she was genuinely surprised he was still showing a minor interest in her. When she finally made eye contact with him, his earnestness was practically shining. Had he always had perfect skin?

“Um…” That was a good start, she thought.

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal if you’d rather not.” He helpfully pre-empted her awkward rejection but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I’ve been meaning to go is all and I knew you liked sushi and figured it might be fun? They have live Jazz on Sunday nights.”

When did he find out she liked sushi? And live Jazz? Just how much had Audrey told him about her?

Realising she probably looked perplexed, she shuffled her shoulder strap back up onto her shoulder and tried to relax the awkwardness setting in between them. It was still quiet and no one was within earshot that she could figure out of her peripheral vision.

“It’s not you, Greg, I promise. It’s just, I’m not really looking to get into anything right now. With anyone. Plus, we work together and…I’m sorry. I hope that’s OK?”

“Hey, look, I promise it won’t be awkward. There’s absolutely no expectations from me and if you change your mind, just let me know, yeh? I literally know no one else who likes Sashimi so I can’t waste my only chance to get a table.” He chuckled and she felt more at ease.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m a pretty crap date.” She smiled at him as she edged herself down the hall, putting space between them both literally and figuratively. “You wouldn’t be missing out.”

“Oh, I doubt that somehow.” He returned her smile. “I’m serious, though. Just let me know. Anytime. No expiration date.”

And with that, she had been left dumbfounded by two men in the space of a single week.

It would have been easier to get the early morning bus home at this time, as tired as she was starting to feel. She hadn’t slept well in the last few days and she had a creeping nausea from the lack of proper rest. The walk and crisp, fresh air might do her some good. It was practically full daylight even at this hour, and it was sometimes fun to watch people on their own way to work, huffing along, trying not to drop their coffees.

The out-of-town school bus passed her a few minutes out from her apartment and as she rounded the corner, she got this weird sense that someone was watching her. Another corner turned and she could see her building in the near distance. Still, she couldn’t shake it. She stopped, pretending to fumble for her phone in her pocket and turned around swiftly to see a sweaty Chris stop a few steps behind her.

It took her a moment to register it was in fact him, his beard fuller and a Red Sox cap pulled down low over his eyes. He had sweats and sneakers on and looked like he was on a run. Honestly, if someone else had spotted him from this distance, they would have worried he was going to attack her.

“Hey,” she said, turning to fully face him. “What are you doing out at this time?”

He didn’t respond at first. He shuffled from one foot to the other before grounding himself and taking a couple of steps towards her. Again, he shuffled back a step like he was rethinking his move. She didn’t appreciate seeing him like this, so unsure of himself.

“Five months out from filming some pre-shoots so figured I’d make a start.” He finally spoke. Not a really a smile but he at least sounded OK.

“Cool.” She said, nodding back at him. “Um, I’m not sure if Shanna is awake yet but do you want to come inside for some water or coffee?”

“Yeh, that’d be great. Thanks.”

She turned to continue walking on. For a few long moments, he stayed walking slightly behind her. A couple more strides and he had decided to catch up. The last time it had taken this long to walk this same street, she had been so drunk she had narrowly avoided falling into her neighbour’s front garden.

“Five months? You’re not that out of shape.” She tried to make a joke. It was the only thing she could think of. Audrey would be eye-rolling like a champ if she could see them now.

Chris knew she was trying to make small talk now so he decided to indulge her. It was a fair response, he thought - he was doing OK - as he followed her up the stairs deliberately keeping two or three behind her in an effort to keep it casual.

“Oh, y’know. I fluctuate pretty easily. A few pizzas here and there and it’s game over.”

They walked into her kitchen and she had been right in assuming Shanna was still asleep. Unless she had awoken really early but that was highly unlikely, unless there was a sale at Ted Baker she didn’t know about.

He lingered in the doorway while she searched the fridge for a bottle of water. Grabbing one from the back, she turned to hand it to him expecting him to be within an arm’s reach from her but he had been distracted by something down the hall before turning back to her. Gratefully, he accepted it and walked into the kitchen to take up his usual spot leaning against the counter.

“Sorry, did you say you wanted a coffee?” She offered.

“Nah, I’m good. Can’t really take caffeine until this afternoon.”

“Sorry. I always forget how strict it is.” She apologised, offering him a sympathetic smile.

He took a long swig from the bottle, not breaking eye contact from her. “No need to apologise. You OK? Night shift?”

“Yeh. Pretty quiet, thankfully.”

“I’ve always meant to ask but what is it like, a night shift? I can’t work out if it would be worse or not.”

She understood what he meant and laughed. “It can go either way to be honest but it’s been quiet the last few nights. Nothing crazy. I caught up with some paperwork, so…” She shrugged again, acutely aware of how boring she must sound.

He nodded at her. “Aren’t people supposed to be crazier in the summertime?”

“Well, kids are around more and families tend to spend more time together, so…”

The apartment was unnervingly quiet now which was weird. She could hear the uptake in traffic outside which provided some relief that perhaps he couldn’t hear her heart beating out of her chest. She could make out some small sweat patches on his hoodie and it did something to her that she wasn’t expecting. Shaking the thought from her head, she turned to switch the kettle off.

“What?” He asked.

She jerked her head back around to face him. “Huh?”

“You were thinking of something. Your neck just went red.” He smiled, tilting his head at her and relishing the look of surprise making its way over her features, knowing he’d caught her out.

That was news to her. She knew she had “tells” but a red neck was not usually one of them. How come no one had ever told her about this?

“I can’t tell if you’re joking with me or not.” She inquired, playfully narrowing her eyes at him in an effort to lighten the mood.

He shrugged a shoulder at her, a smirk starting to cross his fine features. Joshing with her was good. She’d take that. A small step in the right direction.

“Sometimes, it’s really obvious. You get it when you’re embarrassed about something, or when you try to lie. I’d never really noticed it before, but...” He paused. His expression started to turn more thoughtful and she wished he’d just continue to make fun of her instead.

“Guess I won’t be playing poker anytime soon.” She finished the thought for him.

“Yeh, no, you’d be rubbish at that. Just terrible.” He took another swig from his bottle and waited for her to throw something at him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

The room went quiet again. She stirred her mug of coffee and offered him another chance at one which he politely refused although his discipline was waning slightly now he could smell it.

“So this is fine.” He said after a couple of minutes, nodding in a slightly exaggerated manner. He looked out of the kitchen window. “We can do this, right? No awkwardness. No embarrassment. Just normal, everyday conversation.”

“’Course,” she nodded in agreement.

“Start as we mean to go on, right?”

She nodded again. This felt like a trap and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Chris had a knack for saying and doing two different things at the same time, an intimidating ability that often put people on edge if he thought it would serve his purpose, whatever that may be. Probably the actor in him. When you called him out, he would aggressively defend himself which only served to prove the point you were making in the first place.

Scott was the only one, truly, who knew when it was happening. It had taken Sarah years to get to a similar position but now, she wasn’t sure she was remotely close to it.

“It’s as good a starting point as any, I guess.” She shrugged again, sipping from her cup.

“So there’s no need to ignore me then.”

“I haven’t been ignoring you, have I?”

“You tell me. I’m just pre-empting it is all. I’m just saying we can still interact, you and me, if we need to. Like, it doesn’t always have to be in social settings with other people around.” He took a final drink from his bottle and turned to locate the recycling pot stashed away in the corner. Even with a mundane task, he always looked cool doing it.

“So don’t worry about it.”

“Alright then. That’s good to know.” She shot him a raised eyebrow which he caught and returned with a sly smirk. “I’m just trying to be sensible. We have to get this right or else there’s no point.”

“I know, I get that, too.” If he wasn’t attempting to be serious before, he was now. He had a hand on his hip and seemed to have grown a few inches in height. “What do you think I’m trying to say?”

“I…think I’m on the backfoot again and it’s weird.” She held a hand up in defence.

“Hey, I’m just doing what we agreed, OK? I’m just following your rules.”

“They’re not rules.” She struggled to regulate the volume in her voice in case she disturbed Shanna. “And you’re making it sound like I’m controlling the situation when I’m not. We both agreed on this. There’s no point being difficult about it.”

Was he being difficult? Yes. Obviously, he was. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but happy definitely wasn’t it. Things were out of sorts and he hadn’t been able to eat carbs or sugar for four days so the withdrawal symptoms certainly weren’t helping. He should go easier on her. She was doing the thinking for the both of them. He should learn to be more grateful for that.

He scratched the back of his head and let out an audible sigh in frustration. “I’ll try harder, I promise. We’ve got that cabin thing coming up with Mom, so…I promise I’ll be good.”

He imitated the scout salute and she smiled at him, a smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Another night shift and Audrey and was starting to get suspicious. No one willingly switched for a night shift. For one thing, there was a disproportionate amount of recovery time. A couple of night shifts often took in excess of a week to recover from; a week that a nurse definitely did not have to spare.

“He been buggin’ you?” she asked, finally growing tired of the silence.

“Who?” Sarah looked up from the cabinet. “No, not really. We haven’t really spoken.”

“So why are you ignoring him?”

“I’m not ignoring him! Why does everyone think that?”

“Who’s everyone?”

Crap. Audrey had her there. Sarah open and closed her mouth without a sound coming out. She took a breath. “He’s not bugging me. He’s not. I’m just trying to limit the times we’re in the same place at the same time.”

“Huh, you’d think he would at least allow you to have peace in your own home.”

“Well, to be fair, he hasn’t been around all that much, but…at least I don’t have to worry about him showing up unannounced. It’s stupid but I feel way more awkward about him than I thought I would. It’s like I can’t even stand to be under his gaze.”

Audrey glanced at her friend, wishing she could offer some words of comfort. Even for someone as verbose as she normally was, she was finding it a struggle. Sarah wasn’t much looking for words of comfort at the given time either. She was all too aware of the predicament she was in and how much responsibility laid at her feet. In her mind, waiting it out was the only logical solution she could come up with. The only logical solution that didn’t require more conversations with someone who could feasibly run rings around her “theory” that if they just stayed apart for a little while, they would suddenly and magically forget about the past couple of months.

They stayed filing documents in silence again, the air seemingly getting thicker.

“You ever spoken with someone and it’s like they’re thinking the complete opposite of what’s coming out of their mouth?” Sarah huffed while shoving the cabinet drawer closed.

“Not really. That person’s usually me.”

“But why?” she asked. “Why can’t you just be normal?”

“I mean, it’s not my go-to response of course. It’s normally reserved for occasions when I am trying to indulge someone because I know they’re talking bullshit. Like, when I know Mike has been gambling but he tries to deny it? It’s just easier to figure him out that way.”

Sarah froze to the spot, looking at her friend. She breathed a heavy sigh and turned to lean back on the table behind her and crossed her arms. She stared at her shoes for a second.

“Chris is a smart guy. I’ll give him that.” Audrey muttered loudly so she was sure Sarah could hear.

“Give me something! I’m your friend here.” She implored her before chuckling to herself at Audrey’s face and her own apparent lack of self-awareness.

“You know what I think? You’ve probably got withdrawal symptoms from the all the amazing sex you’ve had and now you’re sulking. I think you should get back on that horse and let him fuck you again. That’s what this is.”

Sarah eyed her friend again. For once, she would love to hear someone tell her that she was right. “That’s really not helping, y’know.”

“And this is?!” Audrey’s shriller tone cut through the dry air, smacking Sarah right in the face. “Honey, this isn’t healthy. You hiding out in the hospital and treating it like your own solace is not healthy at all. I love you but you are your own worst enemy.”

“Alright, thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you for your unswerving efforts to be honest with me at all times and not, like a normal pal, be comforting in any way.” Sarah comically bowed to her friend before considering leaving the office. She would have followed through with the idea as well if it wasn’t for the cosy warmth of O’Brien’s office versus the coldness of the ER department thanks to a leaking pipe. “It’s difficult. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna fall out with you, Audrey.”

Audrey just smiled at her. “I don’t know why you think you have to be the beacon of morality all the time, Sarah. Take a look around. No one else is. We all out here just trying to live our lives as best we can and a part of that is taking advantage of moments of happiness when we find them.”

Something about what Audrey was saying did resonate with her but comparing two months of happiness with Chris to ten years with Shanna was not something she could in good conscience do. Shanna was her security blanket. She provided a comfort of living with someone with shared life experience, of knowing how little you thought about yourself because you were given up as a baby. Honestly, from the very first day they had met, Sarah felt lucky to know her.

Yes, Shanna could be immature at times. Maybe a little selfish. She would often get carried away with trivial things and wasn’t the most reliable person, but what Sarah got in return was worth that and more. Her family enjoyed highlighting the maternal care Sarah would have to provide to someone who was seven months older than she was, but honestly it didn’t matter.

Maybe this was one of the rare occasions where Audrey was wrong.

Chris was a fling at best, Sarah told herself, when she was lying in bed struggling to fall asleep. When she was cold and missing his arms around her. They were both having shitty times and they both got something out of it. That was what Chris had said himself at the very beginning.

Chris 08.15am: You home? Shanna said you were working late again

It was like he knew she would be thinking about him.

Chris 08.17am: I really dont want u ignoring me all the time. This is hard for me right now as well

Fuck.

Sarah 08.21am: I kno. I’m so sorry I made you feel like that :(

He didn’t respond. She thought she saw the tell-tale three dots of him writing something but nothing appeared. Giving up on sleep, she got up and headed into the kitchen. Shanna had left her some bacon in the fridge and a fresh bread bun on the side so she turned on the grill and set about making some coffee.

She felt strangely awake for this time and the apartment was nice and warm from the bright sunshine streaming in from all corners. Maybe a run would help. Or a cold shower.

Chris 08.44am: I wanna be honest with u but I dont think u want that

Chris 08.45am: so what do i do??

Fuck knows.

Chris 08.51am: Can I come over?

Sarah 08.54am: that’s not a good idea

Chris 08.55am: cos you know what will happen?

Chris 08.56am: what does that tell you??

She was sure he was nursing some kind of hangover or, quite possibly, he was still a little bit drunk. There were two responses she could give, she figured. The first would be her usual denial and perhaps an excuse that she was busy or working later than planned. The second, and ultimately the one she opted for, was to agree with him.

Sarah 09.05am: I know what it tells me. That’s why I’m saying you shouldn’t come over

Another three dots followed. There was only so many times they could go around and around in circles and as much as Audrey’s words made sense to her, it felt like she had to make the effort to regain some normality.

He didn’t respond. She stared at her phone for an age but nothing came through. Maybe he got the message? Maybe he had fallen asleep. She was both relieved and suspicious; Chris wasn’t someone who backed down from an argument when he thought he was right. He had said as much himself.

She turned the grill off, having lost her appetite. A run might make more sense and could help clear her head.

She couldn’t sit around waiting for Chris to make his next move.

#Chris evans #chris evans fic #evans fic #fanfiction #clear the area #sarah bernette #chris evans x original female character

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calumcest · 4 years

Text

fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet

[ao3]

SO i participated in a fic event with a bunch of other very talented writers where we all took a prompt and had to include a phrase in the fic. my prompt was lashton - bad boy so...here is what i managed to come up with

the masterlist of all the fics for this event can be found here

this fic would be absolutely nowhere without @calumsclifford and @5sosnsfw i owe them an eternal debt of gratitude for their help with coming up with ideas and listening to me scream about it for days on end because i just could not write it and also to jex for betaing for me i owe you my soul at this point i think

also i literally said when i started this i was going to struggle to keep it under 10k but honestly what do you expect from me? brevity? absolutely not. on the topic i want it to be known that i finished this fic at exactly 4:58pm and it is due at 5pm will i ever change? no. keep your expectations of me low and we will all do just fine

Luke hates a good ninety-five percent of his job.

A solid thirty percent of that comes from the fact that he works as a receptionist at a hotel, which he thinks is possibly the most thankless job humanity could possibly have created. A further ten comes from the fact that his desk is right next to the kitchen, meaning mouth-watering smells are constantly wafting under his nose, and Luke’s not allowed to eat on shift.

Fifty-five percent of it, though, is Ashton.

Ashton doesn’t work at the hotel, but Luke’s pretty sure he’s there more regularly than half of the staff who do. He’s Calum’s friend, or they live together, or they’re in a gang together, or something, because Calum is how Luke knows Ashton’s name. Ashton will always slouch against Luke’s desk, cigarette tucked behind his ear, and then Calum will come out of the kitchen and Ashton will push himself off the desk and walk out with him. Luke’s never spoken to Calum, but he knows Calum’s boyfriend Michael works as a concierge on night shift, and that Michael doesn’t like Luke’s organising system. Luke doesn’t like Michael’s, and especially doesn’t like that he has to rearrange his entire desk every day when Michael’s shift ends at nine a.m. Neither of them is willing to be the first to give in, although privately Luke thinks that if Michael ever said a word to him about it he’d fold and let Michael have his shitty system and probably, like, Luke’s house, or something. Luke’s not very good at confrontation or standing his ground.

Here’s the thing, though. Luke kind of likes Ashton. He likes the way Ashton’s black curls fall into his face and he doesn’t seem to care, likes the way his hazel eyes light up when he smiles, likes the way he gesticulates a lot when he talks. Ashton’s hot, and Luke’s lonely, and lusting over hot guys from afar is pretty much how he’s lived his entire life.

However, Luke doesn’t like people leaning against his desk, which is one thing Ashton does. He also doesn’t like strangers speaking to him outside of a professional capacity, which is another thing Ashton does. He especially doesn’t like when he’s trying to deal with a difficult guest and Ashton takes it upon himself to tell them to go fuck themselves, because then Luke’s job is made ten times harder.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he says, hurriedly, as Ashton leans back against the desk, leather jacket rubbing noisily against the wood.

“Excuse me?” the guest says to Ashton, halfway between incredulous and infuriated. Ashton shrugs.

“You heard me,” he says coolly. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Sir, I sincerely apologise,” Luke says, almost begging. “Of course I can refund you for breakfast. Which room number should I process the refund for?”

“Who are you?” the guest says, and Ashton pushes himself off the desk, drawing himself up to his full height.

“You wanna know who I am?” he says. His tone might be lazy, his face might be carefully slack, but his hazel eyes are hard, an edge of a threat in the way he cocks his head.

“I want your name,” the guest blusters. “I want to file a complaint for your behaviour.” Ashton’s lips quirk up in an amused smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’d be happy to introduce you to my boss,” he says, taking another step closer to the guest. The guest takes a small step back, stumbling as he does, and Ashton edges closer, baring his teeth in a grin. “But I can’t promise you’d come back in one piece.”

“Your room number?” Luke says, trying to diffuse the situation, and it only comes out as half-squeaky, which is pretty good going for him.

“Uh, actually, it’s okay,” the guest says, words tripping over themselves in their hurry to leave his lips. “Um. Thanks.” With that, he turns on his heel and speedwalks out of the lobby.

Well. Fuck.

Ashton watches him leave, then grins, pleased with himself, and turns back to Luke. Luke swallows, feeling himself flush under the heat of Ashton’s gaze.

“You’re welcome, pretty boy,” Ashton says, when Luke says nothing. Pretty boy. Luke hates when Ashton makes fun of him like that.

“Thanks,” Luke mumbles, even though he absolutely doesn’t mean it. Guests like that never just leave it; his manager will be getting a strongly worded email later, and Luke’s going to get fucking reamed for it.

“You’re fucking cute when you blush,” Ashton comments casually, sauntering back over to Luke’s desk. Luke doesn’t know what to say to that, never does, so he says nothing, pretending to be completely preoccupied with making a note for James, the guy on evening shift, to process the refund for the guest anyway. He’s not sure why the guy waited until five p.m. to ask for a refund for breakfast, but whatever. James’s problem now, not Luke’s.

With two minutes left to go on his shift and Ashton’s eyes burning into the back of his head, Luke busies himself with gathering his things together so he won’t have to look at Ashton. He can feel Ashton’s eyes follow him as he gets up and shrugs his coat on, and wishes Calum’s shift would hurry the fuck up and end already. Luke always has to wait an extra couple of minutes for James, who’s always late, and Calum’s usually out of the door at five on the dot.

Sure enough, as Luke watches the clock on his computer tick over to five, the door to the kitchen bangs open and Calum strides out, face splitting into a grin when he sees Ashton.

“How’d you get here?” he asks, and Ashton pushes himself off Luke’s desk again to fall into step with Calum.

“Took Michael’s bike,” he hears Ashton say as they walk out. “Mine’s still in the fucking shop.”

“He’s going to be pissed if you get him another tick-,” Calum says, cut off when they walk out of the lobby. James passes through the door they’d pushed open as it swings shut, and Luke lets out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Would it kill you to get an earlier train?” he asks James as he pulls his bag off the chair, even though this is early for James.

“Maybe,” James says. “Haven’t tried it, just in case.” Luke rolls his eyes, shouldering his bag.

“See you tomorrow,” he says. “I’ve left a couple of notes for you.” James nods, sitting down in the chair and pulling the keyboard towards him.

“See you,” he says. Luke nods, starting to walk away, when James shouts- “Hey, Luke!”

“Huh?” Luke spins around to see James holding out a scrap of paper. “What?”

“You left this,” James says, waving the paper. Luke frowns.

“No I didn’t,” he says.

“Well, it says Luke on the front,” James says, arm still outstretched. Luke hesitates for a moment, because he really hasn’t left anything behind - he’d checked meticulously when he’d been packing, anything to avoid Ashton’s gaze - before crossing the room back over to James and taking the paper from his hand.

“Thanks,” he says. James makes a ‘don’t mention it’ hand movement, eyes already on the computer screen.

Luke’s eyes flick down to the piece of paper in his hand - it does indeed say ‘Luke’, which kind of surprises him, although he’s not sure what James would have had to gain from lying about that.

“You’re going to miss your train,” James says, not looking up from the screen, and shit, he is. Luke pockets the note and heads towards the doors of the lobby.

“Wouldn’t miss it if you would fucking get here on time,” he says, pushing the doors open.

“Fuck you!” James sing-songs after him, and Luke grins as the cool May air hits his face.

-------

Luke forgets about the note in his pocket until he shoves his hands in his pockets to protect them from the biting wind on his way from the station to his house. He curls his fingers around the paper so he doesn’t forget about it, not wanting to lose it to the wind that’s howling in his ears, only letting go even when he has to unlock the front door.

As soon as he’s safely inside and has kicked his shoes off and chucked his bag down next to the sofa, he pulls the note out of his pocket and unfolds it.

Golden boy,

Golden curls, golden smile, golden heart. You burn me with how bright you shine, drown me out with your smile.

What I wouldn’t give for you to see me.

- AFI

Luke stares at it.

What the fuck?

This has to be some kind of a joke. AFI? Like the fucking band? Luke doesn’t even listen to them. Or, actually, maybe there’s another Luke this is intended for. Luke does work as a receptionist, after all. Maybe someone dropped it off, wanting him to pass it on to a guest called Luke. It’s a pretty common name, so that’s not out of the bounds of possibility.

Yeah, Luke thinks, folding the note back up carefully and putting it back in his pocket. He’ll check the list tomorrow morning, and see if there are any Lukes staying at the moment.

-------

Michael’s always gone by the time Luke gets to the desk, even though Luke gets there ten minutes early every day. Luke often wonders how long Michael’s actually at work, whether he just fucks off at eight when things start getting slow after the early morning checkouts have gone.

The start to the day is usually slow, which is good since Luke always has to reorganise the entire desk from the way Michael’s trashed it (seriously, who puts the returned room keys in alphabetical rather than numerical order?). It takes him until half-past to sort that out, cross-referring the guest database to the keys and hoping some deity takes pity on him and curses Michael to the ninth circle of Hell. By then, a steady stream of people are going in for breakfast, and Luke starts getting his first red-eye check-ins.

The note completely slips his mind (again) until a lull at half-past three makes him decide to check his phone, which is in his jacket pocket. His fingers brush the paper as he reaches in, and he suddenly jolts, remembering he’d been meaning to look up all the Lukes currently staying at the hotel.

Phone forgotten, he pulls the database up again, and does a quick search for Luke. Four names flash back at him, and Luke sits back, sort of satisfied, sort of disappointed. Some part of him had kind of hoped there weren’t any Lukes staying, and the note had been intended for him. The last time anyone had said anything nice to Luke was probably, like, a good three years ago. And it was probably his mum.

He sets a note next to all four Lukes for himself, James and Michael to ask whether they’d been expecting a message when they check out, and then pushes the note from his mind and gets back to work.

He barely even notices the time pass, so focused on answering emails, until there’s a tapping at his desk. He looks up, a customer-service smile already plastered on his face, only for it to slide off when he sees Ashton.

“No need to look so happy to see me, pretty boy,” Ashton says, flicking a lighter on and off idly, but his eyes are twinkling. Luke swallows, and turns back to his screen.

“Good afternoon,” he says politely, typing out a reply to a booking request and steadfastly not looking at Ashton. Ashton leans against Luke’s desk, leather jacket rubbing loudly against the wood, and Luke wishes he had the balls to tell him to stop.

“I’m not a guest,” Ashton says. “You don’t have to be polite to me.” Yeah, but I’m kind of terrified of you, Luke thinks sourly, as he nods primly.

“I’m on shift,” he says. “I’m polite to everyone.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ashton’s lips quirk up in a grin.

“I bet you are,” he says, pulling the cigarette from behind his ear and putting it between his lips.

“Um- you can’t do that in here,” Luke says, as Ashton flicks the lighter on again and lights the cigarette. Ashton looks up, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh?” he says, around the cigarette. “Are you going to stop me, pretty boy?” Luke opens his mouth, and then closes it again, because who the fuck is he kidding? He’s not going to say shit. The fire alarm will speak for him, anyway.

Ashton smokes in silence for a few minutes, and Luke thanks God that five isn’t a popular checkout time, so he doesn’t have to deal with guests throwing Ashton (and Luke) dirty looks. Five more minutes until Calum comes out, he tells himself. He can make it through five more minutes.

“Do you smoke?” Ashton asks after four and a half minutes have passed, out of the blue. Luke blinks at him for a moment, realising Ashton’s talking to him.

“Uh, no,” he says. Ashton cocks his head.

“Shame,” he says. “Bet your lips would look good around a cigarette.”

Luke has absolutely no idea how to respond, because he never knows what to say when Ashton mocks him like that, but he’s saved from answering by the door to the kitchen slamming open and Calum walking out, already grinning before he even sees Ashton.

“Mate, I got a pay rise,” he says, as he and Ashton set off without a backwards glance.

“Who’d you fuck for that?” Ashton asks, laughing as he dodges a punch to the arm from Calum. Luke just stares at them as they walk away, still bickering about Calum’s pay rise, wondering why Ashton gets such a kick out of making fun of Luke. His thoughts are cut short, however, when the fire alarm suddenly starts blaring.

“Oh, fuck,” he says, scrambling to his feet and sprinting to the box to press the reset button before guests start piling down the stairs.

Grace sticks her head out of the kitchen door, frowning.

“Wasn’t us, I swear,” she says, seeing Luke pressing the reset button like his life depends on it.

“I know,” Luke says.

“Why does it smell like smoke in here?”

“Uh, does it?” Grace’s frown deepens, and then there’s a shout from the kitchen and her head disappears again. The fire alarm finally stops, just as James walks through the door, giving Luke a confused look as he ambles over.

“They burn toast again?” he asks, because none of them are ever going to let the kitchen live that one down. Luke shakes his head, and James wrinkles his nose. “Hey, why’s it smell like smoke out here?”

“Don’t know,” Luke says as he shrugs his coat on, hoping there’s no ash on the carpet, or anything. “I’ve got to go, I’m going to miss my train. See you tomorrow.”

“Hey,” James says, holding out another piece of paper. “Stop leaving shit behind.”

“That’s not mine,” Luke says. James frowns at it, and then at Luke.

“Says your name on it.

“Yeah, I think it’s for a guest,” Luke says. “I made a note in the system. There’s four Lukes here right now.” James’s brow remains furrowed.

“No, I think it’s for you,” he says.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not,” Luke says.

“Take it.”

“I have to go.”

“Well, take it with you.” Luke rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t have time to argue with James anymore because he really is going to miss his train, so he just snatches the note out of James’s hand and makes a mental note to bring it back tomorrow.

“Don’t miss your train,” James calls, as Luke speedwalks towards the door. Luke just flips him off over his shoulder, hunching into himself as the cold May wind wraps itself around him.

-------

This time, Luke reads the note on the train.

Golden boy,

I try not to look at you, as if you were the sun, but I see you, like the sun, even without looking.

Let me bask in your sunlight.

- AFI.

Luke frowns.

He knows those words. That’s Anna Karenina, with the pronouns changed. Someone’s quoting Tolstoy to whoever this mystery Luke is that these notes are intended for, and Luke’s kind of a little bit envious. He wants someone to write him romantic, literary love notes.

Whatever, he thinks, shoving the note back into his pocket with a little more force than strictly necessary. He hopes whichever Luke gets these notes appreciates them, and the effort Luke’s putting into getting them to him.

-------

There’s a note in the system when Luke gets to work the next day.

not luke evans - michael

Okay, Luke thinks, clicking on the three remaining Lukes still checked into the hotel. Their checkout dates are all in the next couple of days, so Luke still has time to get the notes to whichever one it is. He’s put both scraps of paper in a corner of the desk, folded carefully so the name is clearly visible, lest James or Michael forget about them.

He clicks off the Luke Evans note, and another note pops up.

stop fucking with the room keys - michael

Luke’s kind of outraged at that. There’s literally nothing that makes any less sense than organising the room keys alphabetically rather than numerically. It takes more time to do anyway, because it means cross-referencing the key number to the guest database. He’s not sure whether Michael’s joking or just a masochist, but either way, Luke’s not having it.

Stop putting them in fucking alphabetical order then. - Luke

He presses enter before he has the time to second-guess it, because this is a topic that’s close to his heart, and if Michael actually fucking listens it’ll save Luke half an hour every day. He quashes the instant flare of fear that forces its way up his throat the minute he’s made the note, because he’s a little bit terrified of Michael, and clicks onto his emails, ready to make a dent in his already-full inbox.

It’s a Friday, which is one of the busiest days at the hotel, so Luke’s checking people in and out for most of the day. His cheeks hurt from politely smiling by the time it starts to slow around four-thirty, and he has to stop himself from sighing when a shadow appears over him twenty-five minutes later. He’d hoped that was it for guests for today.

When he looks up, though, he’s confronted with Ashton, leaning against his desk with a grin on his face. He’s not sure whether that’s better or worse than another guest.

“Afternoon, pretty boy,” Ashton says. He’s got his usual leather jacket on, and his hair is all fucking windswept, and Luke doesn’t think he should be this attracted to someone he doesn’t know and is a little afraid of, but whatever.

“Afternoon,” Luke says politely, averting his gaze and hoping Ashton doesn’t see the slight blush creeping up his cheeks. Ashton’s gaze flicks over to the pile of room keys Luke’s still got to wipe.

“Busy day, huh?” he says, indicating to the room keys with a tilt of his head. Luke just nods, and keeps typing. “Y’know, I sometimes wonder if I should quit the day job and become a receptionist.”

“Oh,” Luke says, because what the fuck else can he say?

“Yeah,” Ashton says. “Probably wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, though.” Luke purses his lips. He’s not sure whether Ashton’s trying to shit on Luke’s job, big up his own job, or get Luke to employ him. Luke’s not in charge of hiring, anyway, and if Ashton’s hoping he’ll put in a good word, he’s got another fucking thing coming.

“Right,” he says eventually, when it becomes clear Ashton’s waiting for some kind of response. He kind of wants to know what Ashton does for a living, given that he seems to have the time to hang around waiting for his friends during normal working hours, but he’s far too shy to ask. Plus, what if the answer’s, like, assassin, or something?

He doesn’t end up needing to ask, though, because Ashton supplies the answer for him.

“I work at a bar,” he says, flashing Luke a grin. “Barback.”

“Not bartender?” Luke asks in surprise, before he can stop himself, because Ashton doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d be content to not be the centre of attention. Ashton laughs, and Luke’s stomach flips at the sound. He’s not really sure why it makes something warm fizz through his veins, why it makes him want to make Ashton laugh again.

“Not trained,” he says. “I’m just working off a debt.” And, okay. Luke’s not really sure he wants to know what said debt is. No debt that needs to be paid off by barbacking sounds like one Luke needs to hear about.

“Right,” he says again, hoping he doesn’t sound as flustered as he feels.

“You should come by sometime, pretty boy,” Ashton says casually. “Bar’s on King Street.”

“Oh,” Luke says. “Thanks. Yeah. Maybe.” Jesus Christ. His job is talking to people - why the fuck is he suddenly so bad at it when it’s a hot (and mildly terrifying) guy?

“You can drink on the house,” Ashton says, eyes twinkling, “as long as you give me your number afterwards.” Luke feels his mouth drop open slightly, stuttering as his mind tries to both process what Ashton’s said and string together some syllables in response, but then the door to the kitchen slams open and Calum stalks out, looking furious. Luke jumps at the sound and shrinks into himself a little at the irate look on Calum’s face, but Ashton just looks over his shoulder lazily.

“Afternoon,” he says idly, falling into step with Calum, who doesn’t even pause.

“You come on Michael’s bike again?” Calum says, and Ashton nods. “Good. Fucking crash it on the way ba-” The door swings shut behind them, cutting him off, and Luke stares at where they’d been standing two seconds ago in surprise. What the fuck could Michael have done that was so bad Calum wanted Ashton to crash his bike?

Luke shakes himself out of it and starts shoving his things haphazardly in his bag, because he’d been too distracted by Ashton to remember to pack, and as he’s wrapping his scarf around his neck, James ambles through the door.

“Fucking cold out,” is how he greets Luke, from underneath his scarf. Luke indicates to his own.

“It’s May, mate,” he says. James rolls his eyes, pink-cheeked from the wind, and tugs his scarf off as he walks behind the desk.

“See you tomorrow,” Luke says, heading for the door.

“Stop leaving your fucking notes behind,” James says, before Luke’s even got halfway there, and Luke rolls his eyes before spinning on his heel to face James.

“They’re not for me,” he says.

“They are,” James says, holding the note out. “Why else would whoever’s leaving them leave them here?”

“Because they don’t know the room number of the Luke they want?” Luke suggests. James rolls his eyes.

“They could ask.”

“Maybe they want to remain anonymous.”

“They’d be anonymous to this hypothetical Luke, anyway, because they’re dropping it off at the reception,” James points out.

“Well, I-”

“Take the fucking note, Luke.” Luke scowls, but James isn’t going to let this go, and Luke doesn’t have the time to argue or he’s going to miss his train, so he just rolls his eyes and snatches the note from James’s outstretched hand.

“Hope you make it,” James calls behind him as he starts to jog towards the door, and Luke just flips him off without looking back.

-------

Golden boy,

Your lips are on my mind day and night, night and day. I wonder just how many other hearts they’ve sent racing.

You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.

- AFI.

Luke frowns at it. Huh. Gone With The Wind. Whoever this AFI person is knows their literature, and Luke’s trying his best not to be impressed by it.

Whatever, he thinks, shoving the note back into his pocket and trying not to be too sullen about the fact that some Luke out there is getting romantic, literary notes written for him. He’ll put it with the others on the desk on Monday.

-------

Luke’s weekend is spent watching movies and eating junk food, with a little feeling sorry for himself sprinkled into the mix, so he’s feeling pretty well-rested by the time he gets into work on Monday morning. He steps through the door at ten to nine, shakes out his umbrella before slotting it neatly into the umbrella stand, and heads over to the desk that Michael has already vacated, as usual.

There are two notes in the system for him when he fires it up.

not luke johnson - michael

alphabetical order makes it so much easier to sort through fuck you - michael

Luke scowls at the screen, tapping out a reply before he can think better of it.

How does it make it easier to sort through?! You have to cross-refer everything to the database!! - Luke

He clicks off the notes, mentally crossing out a second of the four Lukes, which reminds him to set the third note on top of the other two in the corner of the desk for James and Michael to see.

Besides Fridays, Mondays are the busiest days for check-ins and checkouts, so Luke’s face is already aching from the polite smile plastered on his face by ten past two. He’s idly rubbing at his cheeks when the door to the lobby swings open, and Ashton comes striding in, looking somewhere between furious and concerned. Luke starts in surprise, checking the time to be sure he’s not, like, missed two hours of the day somehow - nope, definitely ten past two - but Ashton doesn’t even stop at Luke’s desk, doesn’t even spare him a glance as he heads for the door to the kitchen.

“Um- you can’t go in the-” Luke starts, but he’s cut off by the door to the kitchen banging shut behind Ashton. Luke stares at it, and then sighs. Whatever, he tried.

He turns back to his screen, expecting to hear Calum and Ashton striding out of the door any minute, laughing and joking and nudging each other, but the door stays shut. Instead, after Luke’s read the email in front of him at least three times, mind elsewhere, he hears raised voices shouting in the kitchen, although he can’t make out what they’re saying.

He clears his throat, and reads the email again. This isn’t any of his business, he tells himself, trying to focus on just what week Ms Barnet wants to book seven rooms. Ashton’s perfectly capable of looking after himself.

(He vaguely registers that maybe he shouldn’t be more worried about a stranger than about his colleagues, but whatever.)

The voices get louder and louder, still muffled by the kitchen door, and Luke strains his ears to try and hear what’s being said (he’s pretty sure he can make out a bunch of fucks). After a good two minutes, the door slams open again, making Luke jump, and Ashton walks out, Calum leaning into him, an arm slung over Ashton’s shoulders.

“...can fucking look after myself,” Calum’s saying irately, as Ashton strides towards the door, Calum limping at his side. Ashton’s got his arm around Calum’s waist, clearly supporting his entire body, and Luke tries his best not to think about how strong Ashton must be to do that.

“Look after yourself? You fucking fainted, Calum, and they let you keep working!” Ashton says furiously.

“I��m fine, Ashton, I told you, I’m fucking fine,” Calum spits, and Ashton growls, like, literally growls. Luke swallows, hard.

“Oh, sorry, Doctor Hood, want to show me the medical degree you’ve got to back up that opinion?” Ashton says sarcastically.

“Fuck you, Ashton, seriousl-” the door swings shut behind them and cuts off their conversation, leaving Luke staring at where they’d been standing half in surprise, half in arousal.

Okay, so he might have just discovered he has a bit of a thing for protective men. Or, maybe he’s just discovered he’s got a bit of a thing for Ashton. Which, frankly, isn’t much of a discovery, more of a confirmation.

He shakes his head, trying to erase all the images this has conjured in his mind, and resolves to look into getting laid as soon as possible.

-------

Luke scours his desk before he leaves on Monday, but there’s no note. He finds himself a little disappointed for a moment, because it’s kind of nice to be able to kid himself that the notes are for him for a minute or two, before James finally arrives and he’s able to push it out of his mind in favour of shouting at James for being a whole ten minutes late.

On Tuesday, Luke finds himself tensing up around ten to five, but Ashton never comes and Calum never leaves. There’s no note on Tuesday either, and Luke wonders whether maybe the fact that the mystery note-leaver isn’t getting any responses from the mystery Luke has disheartened them, and immediately feels guilty that he hasn’t tried hard enough to get the notes to the right Luke. The thought is forced out of his mind, however, when James arrives (half an hour late) announcing that the trains are all cancelled because of some signal failures and he’d had to carpool to work, so Luke needs to, like, call an Uber, or something.

“Fuck’s sake,” Luke says, because he really can’t afford an Uber all the way home.

“I know,” James tells him, sitting down in the chair heavily. “At least you’re not the one who’s going to be dealing with pissed off guests.” Luke has to concede there.

Luke goes to the station anyway, in the vain hope that the Sydney Trains will actually fulfil their single function as a transport service, and is informed by an overwhelmed-looking station guard that it’ll probably be another three hours before they’ve sorted out the problem and got all the trains moving again.

Great, Luke thinks, as he walks out of the station and into the cold mid-May air. Where the fuck is he supposed to spend the next three hours?

He wanders around aimlessly for a while, sits down on a bench in Hyde Park for about ten minutes before the wind starts threatening to take his nose from him, wanders around some more, and then, because the universe wants Luke to lose the will to live entirely, it starts to rain.

Great.

Luke ducks into the nearest building - a bar, he can make that work - and shakes the water out of his hair, chancing a glance at the bar itself. Seven isn’t too early to order himself a shot, right?

He stops short, however, when he sees who’s behind the bar.

Ashton.

He’s about to turn on his heel and walk out - he’s dripping wet, in a terrible mood, and Ashton’s terrifying on the best of days - but it’s too late. Ashton’s already spotted him, face splitting into a grin, beckoning him over to the bar. Fucking hell.

Luke edges over hesitantly, trying to surreptitiously arrange the curls around his face - fucking rain, honestly - giving Ashton a hesitant smile as he gets to the bar.

“Didn’t think you’d come, pretty boy,” Ashton says, still smiling, as Luke reluctantly sits down on the bar stool opposite him.

“Um,” Luke says, glad that the bar is poorly lit so Ashton won’t see the blush creeping up his cheeks. “It’s raining.” That doesn’t dim Ashton’s brilliant smile at all, though.

“I remember saying you could drink on the house,” he says, eyes twinkling.

“Conditionally,” Luke says, without thinking. Ashton looks at him for a moment, and then laughs. Luke’s stomach flips, heat pooling low in his abdomen - Jesus, someone as hot as Ashton shouldn’t be allowed such a cute laugh.

“Is giving me your number such a burden?” he says, grinning. Luke flushes, and looks away. He doesn’t get why Ashton gets such a kick out of making fun of Luke like this. He’d thought he’d left the days of people pretending to be into him for fun behind in high school.

Ashton seems to sense Luke’s trepidation, and leans back from the bar.

“Relax, pretty boy,” he says. “I don’t bite.” Luke can’t help the sceptical look he sends Ashton’s way, and it’s met with a dimpled grin. “Okay, I do, but you’ve gotta pay for the privilege.”

“I don’t have any money,” Luke says, because it’s true. That’s the whole reason he’s here in the first place; he can’t afford the fifty dollars it’d cost him to Uber home.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m in a generous mood,” Ashton says, leaning against the cupboard behind him. “What’ll it be?” Luke hesitates. On the one hand, he really doesn’t have any money, and if Ashton reneges on his offer, Luke’s kind of fucked. On the other hand, he’s had a shitty day, he’s still got an hour until the signal failure might be fixed, and he wants a fucking shot.

“Tequila chilled, please,” he says eventually. “But I thought you weren’t a bartender.” Ashton’s lips quirk up in a grin, as he reaches for the tequila and a glass.

“I’m not,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “But what are you going to do, tell on me?” His tone is both amused and challenging, and Luke swallows. They both know Luke’s not going to do shit.

“That’s not chilled,” is all he says weakly, when Ashton pours the tequila straight into the glass. Ashton laughs, and pushes the glass towards Luke.

“Try it,” he says. Luke stares at it, wrinkling his nose, and Ashton grins. “C’mon, I’m not trying to poison you. You’re far too pretty for that.” Luke bites his lip, but picks up the glass and glances at the clear liquid in it warily. He doesn’t even know Ashton, he thinks. This might be, like, straight hydrochloric acid, and Luke would be none the wiser until his oesophagus disintegrated.

Despite his better judgement, though, and largely due to the heat of Ashton’s gaze, Luke raises the glass to his lips and tips the tequila down his throat, wincing as it burns down his throat. It’s warm, and it really does burn, but it burns in a good way, kind of peppery in his mouth, and Luke finds he doesn’t actually mind the aftertaste.

“Huh,” he says, as he sets the glass back down, staring at it in surprise.

“Told you,” Ashton says smugly. “Want another one?” Luke hesitates, and Ashton rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “On the house, pretty boy. You look like you could do with one.” Luke nods, and Ashton pulls the glass back towards him and pours him another shot. Luke watches him pour, trying not to think about the way his fingers are curled around the neck of the tequila bottle. He blames it on the alcohol making its way through his veins, ignoring the fact that it’s far too soon for it to have had an impact.

Ashton pushes the glass towards Luke, who takes it and downs it without a second thought. Ashton laughs again when he sets the glass back down on the bar, eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Rough day, huh?” he says. Luke, fingertips tingling, cheeks a little warm, nods.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Guess that’s what happens when I don’t show up for a day,” Ashton says, eyes glittering, and there’s something behind the humour on the surface that Luke can’t quite put his finger on.

“Is Calum okay?” Luke asks, without thinking. Ashton looks at him for a moment, surprised, and then nods.

“Took him to hospital,” he says. “Doctor said he should rest for a few days, but he’d be fine. He’s kind of pissed about it.” Luke can’t help the snort that escapes him, and Ashton’s lips curl up in a smile.

“He sounded pretty pissed at you,” Luke says, as Ashton pulls the glass back towards him and pours Luke another shot. Jesus. Luke’s not even going to make it on the train at this rate.

“He was,” Ashton says nonchalantly. “But Michael would have been more pissed if I hadn’t picked Cal up from work, and I’d take Calum’s wrath over Michael’s any day.” Luke wrinkles his nose.

“Michael has a terrible organising system,” he says, swirling the tequila around in the glass.

“He says the same about you,” Ashton says, which makes Luke start in surprise.

“He knows who I am?” Ashton gives him a funny look.

“Of course he knows who you are,” he says. “You’re day shift.”

“Oh,” Luke says. “Day shift. Yeah. That’s me.”

They lapse into silence for a while, Ashton gazing at Luke like he’s trying to work something out, Luke staring through the bottom of the glass and wondering whether he really should take this shot or not.

“Are you afraid of me?” Ashton asks, eventually. His tone is even, and his face is calm, but Luke sees the tension in his posture, the hardness in his eyes.

(Luke takes the shot.)

“Uh,” he says, when he sets the glass back down on the bar. “I’m afraid of everyone.” It’s not technically a lie, and Ashton considers it for a moment before shrugging.

“I’m not trying to trick you, pretty boy,” he says, and he’s aiming for casual but Luke hears the seriousness beneath it.

“I didn’t say you were,” Luke says, now definitely a little buzzed. Ashton cocks his head and narrows his eyes, gazing at Luke.

“You don’t trust me,” he says after a moment. Luke shrugs uncomfortably.

“I don’t know you,” he says. Ashton scrutinises him for another moment, and Luke desperately wishes he had something that wasn’t Ashton or his hands to stare at, before Ashton grins.

“Let’s change that,” he says.

“Huh?”

“Ask me anything you want to know,” Ashton says, putting his elbows on the bar and leaning forward. His hazel eyes glint in the dim light of the bar, and Luke parts his lips to respond, but finds himself too caught in the brown-gold-green.

“Uh,” he says intelligently, shaking himself out of it when he remembers that hello, staring at hot and intimidating guys is kind of a bad idea. “What?”

“C’mon,” Ashton says, eyes sparkling with amusement. “There’s got to be things you want to know about me.”

“What’s the catch?” Ashton laughs, tipping his head back, and God, Luke wants to mark up that throat. Jesus. He makes a mental note for the future that tequila at seven p.m. is a no-go.

“You really don’t trust me, huh?” Ashton says, grinning. “Well, I was just going to let you ask, but...how about I get to ask questions in return? Quid pro quo.” Luke swallows.

“Okay,” he says, because what’s he got to lose?

“But you have to be honest,” Ashton says seriously, and Luke nods. He’s a shitty liar, anyway. “Alright. You first.” Luke’s eyes widen, and Ashton looks at him expectantly.

“Uh. What- what’s your favourite colour?” he asks stupidly.

“Seriously?” Luke shrugs, averting his gaze to the glass still sat between the two of them. “Okay. Green. Why don’t you ever speak to me when I’m at the hotel?”

“I’m on shift,” Luke says automatically. “What’s your favourite food?”

“Carbonara. Do I bother you?” Luke hesitates. He’s tipsy enough that he can’t lie, but still sober enough that he doesn’t want to potentially aggravate Ashton by being too honest.

“Yes and no,” he says after a moment’s consideration. “When’s your birthday?”

“Sixteenth of July,” Ashton says. “What do you mean, yes and no?”

“Yes, because I’m trying to work and you’re really fucking distracting, no, because you’re-” Luke coughs, feeling himself flush. “Uh. Do you have any siblings?”

“A brother and sister,” Ashton says. “Because I’m what?” Luke swallows.

“Give me another shot,” he says, and Ashton laughs.

“I think you’ve had enough,” he says, grinning. “You still need to get home in one piece, pretty boy.” Which, shit, what time is it? Luke pulls his phone out of his pocket - fuck, ten to eight, the trains might be back up and running by now - and pushes himself off the bar stool.

“I’ve got to go,” he says, steadying himself against the bar as his vision spins from standing up too fast. “Uh. Thank you? For the drinks.”

“Hang on,” Ashton says, catching Luke’s arm as he turns away. Luke’s skin burns red hot under Ashton’s warm, calloused fingers, and he tries not to let it make him even giddier. “You owe me a number.”

“I don’t know my number,” Luke says, and Ashton frowns.

“Hey,” he says, sounding a little concerned. “You can say no.”

“I’m not saying no,” Luke says. “I’m saying I don’t know my number.” Ashton blinks at him for a moment, and then drops his arm.

“You’d say no if you meant no?” he says, like he’s not quite sure he believes Luke. Luke nods.

“That’s why I’m not saying no,” he tells Ashton, and then his stomach lurches, because fuck, that might have been a bit too forward for Luke, even in his mildly inebrieted state. “Uh. I really do have to go. Thanks.” Ashton nods, leaning back against the cupboard behind him and folding his arms. Luke closes his eyes so he won’t have to stare at Ashton’s biceps.

“See you around, pretty boy,” Ashton calls, as Luke turns on his heel and heads for the door as fast as he can without looking suspicious.

The cool May wind crashes over him when he stumbles outside, and Luke gulps in the crisp air like a drowning man.

Jesus Christ, he thinks, tipping his head back and letting his eyes flutter shut. Hopefully Calum has to stay home for a long enough time that Luke can legally change his name and move to Perth, or something.

-------

On Wednesday, Luke checks a tired-looking Luke Newham out.

“Thank you very much, sir,” he says politely, when Luke Newham hands his room key over. “Oh, by the way - we had a number of notes arrive for a Luke in the hotel. Were you expecting anything?” Luke Newham looks surprised.

“No,” he says. “Definitely not for me.” Luke frowns, and nods, and mentally strikes Luke Newham off the list.

Well. It’s got to be Luke Byrne then.

On Thursday, Luke arrives to find a note in the system from James on Luke Byrne’s guest data.

Told you they were for you. - James

Luke frowns, and reaches for the three notes folded carefully in the corner of the desk.

Golden boy. Surely that’s not Luke? Okay, he thinks, looking at the first note - golden curls, yeah, he’s got blonde hair, but besides that? Golden smile, golden heart? If whoever is leaving these notes thinks Luke’s customer-service smile is golden, he’s going to have to recommend a lobotomy. And, he thinks, shuffling to the second and third notes, nobody could think he shone like the sun, nor have their hearts sent racing by his lips. Luke just isn’t that person for anyone, never has been.

He spends the whole day puzzling about it, so consumed in trying to make sense of the situation that he doesn’t even realise how fast the time is going until the door swings open at ten to five, Ashton already grinning as he walks over to Luke’s desk.

Oh, fuck.

Luke hasn’t seen Ashton since the night at the bar, and he’s been trying his best to keep Ashton out of his mind, too. He’d nigh-on had a panic attack when he’d thought back to their conversation in the shower the next morning, so he’s counting the repression as being for health and safety reasons, which is definitely permissible.

However, he can’t avoid Ashton at work.

“You look happy to see me, pretty boy,” Ashton remarks, leaning against Luke’s desk, that one fucking curl falling in his eyes, and Luke forces the trepidation off his face.

“Long day,” Luke says.

“Need another pick-me-up?” Ashton asks, lips quirking up in a grin. Luke wills his blood to remain where it is and not rush to his cheeks, and averts his gaze back to his screen.

“No,” he says, and then thinks it might have come out a bit curt, and adds, “thank you.”

“Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind,” Ashton says. Luke nods tightly, and taps out a response to an email.

“Michael says someone’s been receiving mystery notes,” Ashton says after a moment, far too casually. Luke’s eyes snap to him, and narrow.

“What?” he says. Ashton shrugs.

“Says someone’s been leaving notes for a Luke, and you’re trying to find who it is,” he says. Luke hesitates, then nods.

“Well, they’re for a Luke, but I’ve checked with every Luke that was staying here when they came,” he says. “So. I’m going to check whether there are any Lukes due to arrive soon.”

“You ever stop to consider it might be you?” Ashton asks, amused.

“Well,” Luke says. “I mean. No? Like, I’ve thought about it, but- I’m not, y’know. That kind of person. I mean. Nobody, like.” He shrugs uncomfortably, wishing he’d never opened his mouth in the first place.

“Nobody what?” Luke sighs.

“Nobody would do that for me,” he says, all in a rush. Ashton raises an eyebrow.

“Oh?” he says. “Says who, pretty boy?” Luke opens his mouth - to say what, he’s not quite sure - but they’re interrupted by the kitchen door banging open, Calum striding out, beaming.

“I’m going to do it,” he says to Ashton.

“Good,” Ashton says, pushing himself off Luke’s desk. “Only taken you a decade.”

“Are you fucking mad, as if he would have said yes when we were sixte-”

“See you tomorrow, pretty boy,” Ashton calls, and Luke starts in surprise. Ashton never says goodbye, forgets all about him as soon as Calum comes out.

“Uh,” Luke stammers, “bye?” Ashton throws him another amused glance over his shoulder, and falls in step with Calum, who’s saying something about how he had to wait for the right time, okay, sixteen is way too young, even if he already knew back then.

Luke stares after them for so long after the door has closed that his eyes start to water.

Ashton doesn’t say goodbye to Luke. It’s one of the universal laws of, like, life, or something. The sky is blue, the Earth is round, and Ashton doesn’t say goodbye to Luke. Luke’s honestly not sure what to make of it - does Ashton think they’re, like, friends now, or something? Is he just trying to unnerve him? Yeah, it’s probably that, he thinks. Ashton clearly gets a kick out of making Luke flustered, and throwing him a curveball like that is a surefire way to do it.

When Luke finally tears his gaze away from the door and back at the desk, he notices another scrap of paper to the left of his computer screen. He reaches for it, frowning at the Luke on the front, and opens it.

Golden boy,

Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.

- AFI.

Hamlet. AFI is quoting Hamlet. Not just that - he’s quoting a lesser-known part of Hamlet, which means he’s either googling ‘romantic quotes to put in anonymous love notes’ or he’s well-read. Luke decides to choose it’s the latter, because the idea of that makes his heart skip several beats.

Although, to be fair, that might just be him jumping in shock when James slams his bag down on the desk.

“Got your daily note?” James asks, seeing the piece of paper in Luke’s hand. Luke flushes, and folds it back up.

“It’s not mine,” he protests weakly, getting to his feet, and James rolls his eyes.

“We checked every Luke in the system,” he says. “Who the fuck else is it going to be?”

“Maybe it’s for a Lucas,” Luke suggests. “Maybe Luke is a nickname.” James pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You’re fucking impossible,” he says, holding his hand out. “Let’s see it.” Luke hesitates, and then drops it in James’s hand and busies himself with getting his things together so he won’t have to see the look on James’s face as he reads.

“Put it on top of the pile,” Luke says, his back to James as he shrugs his coat on.

“Luke,” James says, like Luke’s the stupidest person alive. Luke resents that. “This is about you. This is about you doubting the notes are for you.”

“It’s not,” Luke says.

“You’re doubting a note written about how you shouldn’t doubt the notes?” James says, eyebrows raised. Luke scowls into his bag.

“Fine,” he says, turning around to face James. “And what if they’re for me?”

“Then we find out who’s leaving them,” James says, swinging himself into the chair and spinning around.

“How?” James shrugs.

“You’re going to miss your train,” is all he says. Luke scowls, and flips him off.

“Get an earlier fucking train,” he calls, as he jogs towards the door, because shit, he really is going to miss his train.

“No can do,” James shouts after him, and Luke flips him off again, almost shutting his finger in the door as it closes behind him.

-------

Luke can’t sleep.

He’s been lying in bed for two hours, tossing and turning, but he can’t get the notes out of his mind.

What if they are for him? Luke’s barely even stopped to consider the idea - no, he’s actively stopped himself from considering the idea, because there was no way they were for him, and it would have been stupid for him to build up that kind of hope only for it to come crashing down.

But now that they’ve checked every Luke in the system, he has to toy with the idea that maybe, just maybe they are for him. Sure, they could be for a Lucas, or for a Luke that’s still to arrive, but the rational part of his mind tells him that the likelihood of that is incredibly low. Logically, he knows he’s looking for other explanations because the idea that they could be for him just doesn’t compute. Luke’s not someone who gets romantic notes. Luke’s not someone who gets romance full stop - the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for him is pay for his cab home from their place.

(He still thinks about Nick fondly.)

And if they are for him, that opens up a whole new can of worms. Luke’s barely even given any thought to who AFI might be, because he’s been telling himself the notes aren’t for him. But now that he’s starting to entertain that notion, that question is crowding into every corner of his mind.

Is it a reference to the band? Is it some kind of cryptic musical reference that Luke’s somehow supposed to understand? Or maybe it’s someone’s initials? AFI are pretty unusual initials, he thinks. He doesn’t think he knows anyone with a name starting with F, or a surname starting with I. Maybe it’s double-barrelled?

He sighs, and rolls over onto his side, trying to put all thoughts of the mysterious author of the notes out of his mind. There’s nothing he can do about it now, and running in circles in his head clearly isn’t helping. He’ll just have to pay better attention tomorrow, see who’s dropping pieces of paper on his desk.

You know, a little voice in his mind tells him as he’s on the verge of falling asleep. Ashton starts with an A.

Luke pushes the thought away and allows sleep to envelop him.

-------

On Friday morning, Luke pushes the door to the lobby open, yawning from his lack of sleep, and stops short.

Michael’s there.

He’s standing by the desk, hands on his hips, looking distinctly irritated.

“Oh,” Luke says, completely bewildered. Michael’s never there.

“I’m specifically supposed to give you this,” Michael says, thrusting a hand out. As Luke edges closer, he sees a piece of paper in it, the same scratchy handwriting spelling out his name on the front.

“From who?” he asks.

“Can’t tell you,” Michael says shortly, dropping the note in Luke’s hands and hoisting his bag over his shoulder. “I’ve left the keys in alphabetical order, and if you fucking mess them up again, I’m going to have Calum commit a fairly serious crime against you.” Luke clenches his teeth, watching Michael as he saunters out of the room without waiting for a response from Luke (not that he would have got one anyway), only dropping his gaze to the note in his hand when the door closes behind Michael.

Okay, he thinks, unfolding the note, and trying to ignore the way his heart is racing and his fingers are fumbling with the paper. So the notes are for him.

Golden boy,

Maybe I’ve been too subtle with these. Maybe you needed the pomp and blare, and not the old friend through quiet ways, the seeming prose.

- AFI.

Luke frowns at it, sitting down in his chair and pulling up a browser on the computer. He’s not really sure whether these are AFI’s own words, or whether it’s a quote from something he hasn’t read before. However, a quick Google informs him it’s a (very butchered) line from Anne of Avonlea, which immediately makes Luke’s heart jump a little, because who outside of bookworms reads any further than Anne of Green Gables? Jesus, Luke’s already a little in love with AFI, and for all he knows it could be James playing a prank on him.

And, like, okay. The notes are for him, and it makes Luke’s palms sweat a little just to think about. AFI thinks he’s a golden boy. AFI thinks he’s worth sending romantic literary notes to, and wants him to know they’re for him.

And, more importantly, Michael knows who AFI is.

Luke stews on that all day, thoughts stumbling over each other in their haste to get to the forefront of his mind. Why wouldn’t Michael tell Luke who it is? Why is AFI so keen to remain anonymous? Are they embarrassed to like Luke? Actually, that would explain a lot, and Luke can’t really fault them for it. He’s not exactly anyone to show off to friends and family.

He’s so preoccupied that by four-fifty he’s only about two-thirds through the emails he should have answered, but as soon as he feels the familiar presence of Ashton looming over his desk, he knows he’s not going to get anything more done. He sighs, leaning back, and looks up at Ashton, who’s grinning at him.

“Afternoon, pretty boy,” he says, looking particularly pleased with himself for some reason. Luke decides not to ask.��

“Hi,” he says.

“You look pensive,” Ashton remarks. Luke shrugs, a little uncomfortably. What the fuck is he supposed to say to that? Yeah, you wouldn’t happen to know who dropped a note off for Michael to give to me this morning, would you? Cheers, mate. By the way, I’ve wanted to fuck you for, like, six months, and your presence is getting a bit unbearable, so would you do me a favour and not show up again until I’m out of this dry spell?

“Uh,” he settles for. Close enough.

“Heard you met Michael this morning,” Ashton comments, examining his fingernails.

“Yeah,” Luke says, even though he’s met Michael before. “He’s, uh.” Bitchy? Luke’s not sure insulting Ashton’s friends is the best idea he’s ever had, so he says nothing. Ashton seems to get it, though, and just laughs.

“Yeah, he’s like that,” he says. “But he’s lovely when you get to know him.”

“Right,” Luke says doubtfully. Ashton just grins, and reaches for the cigarette behind his ear.

“Uh,” Luke says. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“Oh?” Ashton says, raising an eyebrow, cigarette already halfway to his lips. “What are you going to do about it?” Luke opens his mouth, and closes it again. Then, suddenly-

“I’ll give you my number if you don’t,” he blurts, and then immediately feels himself turn an impressive shade of red. Ashton’s hand stills for a moment, and then he grins, and tucks the cigarette back behind his ear.

“If I remember correctly, you owe me your number anyway, pretty boy,” he says, but he’s still smiling.

“You almost gave me a hangover,” Luke says, but he’s reaching for the phone in his coat pocket anyway, if only to spare himself from having to look at Ashton. Jesus Christ. What the fuck came over him?

“Not my fault you’re a lightweight,” he hears Ashton say, and he scowls, unlocking his phone and pulling up his own contact. He spins back around to his desk and pulls a piece of paper towards him, scribbling the numbers down at the top. He hesitates, and then writes Luke at the top, even though Ashton clearly knows his name. He’s not sure how many numbers someone as attractive as Ashton must be receiving on a daily basis, so it can’t hurt, right?

He pushes the piece of paper towards Ashton, who takes it with a grin, reading the numbers at least three times.

“You know, I know your name,” he remarks.

“I know.” Ashton glances back at the numbers again, and looks like he’s going to say something else, when the door to the kitchen opens.

“You come on your bike?” Calum asks Ashton, who nods. “Good. I’ve picked out a few places I think might have good ones.”

“In your budget?”

“Fuck you,” Calum says, as they start off towards the door. “I got a raise, remember?”

“And you still think Michael’s going to say yes when he hears how you got it?” Ashton says, sounding amused.

“He already knows,” Calum says dismissively, pushing the door open. “And it’s not like he’s above threats of violence himself.”

“I’ll text you, pretty boy,” Ashton calls over his shoulder, just before the door shuts behind him.

Luke’s glad the door’s between them, or he might do something stupid like shout yes, please do, and please fuck me while you’re at it after Ashton.

Jesus, he thinks, putting his head in his hands. Ashton’s got his number. He’s given Ashton his number. He, Luke Hemmings, had the gall to give the hottest guy in the entirety of Australia his number.

Whatever, he tells himself, packing his things together. Ashton’ll probably forget to text him, anyway. Luke’s not exactly high up on anyone’s to-do list.

-------

Much to his surprise, Luke’s first text from Ashton comes on Saturday evening.

0491570156 Evening, pretty boy.

Luke looks over at his phone lazily when it chimes, not intending to answer his mum when Mike Ross is about to get found out as a fraud by Jessica, and jerks upright when he sees the nickname.

Hi.

Hey.

Hi :)

Hi!

Luke types and erases each one. Too serious, too enthusiastic, too childlike, not cool enough. By the time he’s decided to just bite the bullet and go for Hey, Ashton’s typing again, and Luke erases it all and waits with bated breath.

0491570156 You typing an essay or something?

Shit, Luke forgot Ashton could see when he was typing. God, he’s going to have to start typing on Notes, or something.

Me Sorry. Hi

It’s terrible, but so is Luke, so it’s fitting. He clicks off the chat so he won’t have to see Ashton typing, and saves him as a new contact, by which time Ashton’s sent another message.

Ashton You sound pleased to hear from me

Luke swallows. He’s not sure whether it’s just because it’s over text, but Ashton sounds kind of pissed.

Me I am!

He erases that immediately.

Me I am, I’m just surprised

He bites his lip, and then thinks fuck it, takes another gulp of his wine, and adds a line.

I’m also pretty bad at talking to people.

Ashton’s reply is instantaneous.

Ashton You’re cute when you’re flustered

Ashton Although honestly, you’re cute all the time

Me I’m flustered all the time

Luke stares at the screen, willing Ashton to respond, heart beating wildly. He’s not exactly known for his flirting prowess.

Ashton Damn...thought I was special

Luke inhales deeply, and types without letting himself think about it.

Me Never said you weren’t the reason I’m flustered all the time

This time, Ashton replies immediately.

Ashton Good :) I was starting to think this was all one-sided

Luke lets out a shaky exhale. What’s that supposed to mean?

He’s halfway through typing out a message along those lines when another text comes through.

Ashton Sorry, my shift is actually about to start. Wasn’t expecting you to reply so quickly

And then another:

Ashton See you around, pretty boy

Luke stares at it, and then puts his phone down, slightly dazed.

He’s not going to think about this until he absolutely has to.

-------

‘Until he absolutely has to’ turns out to be about ten p.m. on Sunday night.

Ashton Hey, pretty boy

Ashton I’m on my break

Luke jumps when his phone chimes, and grabs for it with fumbling fingers.

Me How’s work?

Ashton Oh, you know

Ashton Only had to kick out one guy so far

Ashton So pretty good

Luke huffs out a laugh.

Me Pretty sure that’s a bouncer’s job, not a barback’s

Ashton I’m a good multitasker

Okay, Luke doesn’t have, like, a thing for bouncers, but the idea of Ashton squaring up to some drunk guy and throwing him out is kind of doing something to him. He blames it on the fact it’s late, he’s tired, he’s desperate, and Ashton’s far too attractive for his own good.

Me Clearly, since you bartend too

Ashton Hey, you said you wouldn’t tell

Me Telling you doesn’t count as telling

Ashton You don’t know who might be watching over my shoulder

Luke grins.

Me Who’s watching over your shoulder?

Ashton No one, but it’s the principle of it

Luke doesn’t really know what to say to that, but he’s saved from having to come up with anything by another text from Ashton.

Ashton You should come by the bar again soon

Me Bars aren’t really my scene

Ashton The way you knocked back those tequila shots says otherwise

Me I said bars, not alcohol

Ashton Come after closing, then

Luke hesitates.

Me I have work during the week. I can’t be out at three

Ashton Then come on Friday

Luke exhales heavily.

Me Maybe

Ashton You can say no

Me I’m not saying no

Ashton :)

Ashton Break’s over. I’ll see you soon, pretty boy x

Luke throws his phone down on his bedside table, pretending for the sake of his sanity that he hasn’t seen the fucking kiss at the end of that message, rolls over, and goes to sleep.

(And if his dreams are filled with dimly lit bars and hot guys in leather jackets, that’s a total coincidence.)

-------

It comes to a head on Tuesday.

On Monday, Luke’s note had read:

Golden boy,

Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others. I think we are the latter.

- AFI.

Luke hadn’t had to look that one up - it’s Sense and Sensibility, anyone would know that. It might have made his heart race a little, seeing those words in the rushed, scratchy writing he’s come to associate with AFI, and knowing that they’re for him. Someone out there thinks that despite the fact they’ve only been leaving him notes for a little over a week, that’s enough.

Ashton doesn’t show up until a minute before Calum’s shift ends on Tuesday, which is unusual for him. He’s got bruised knuckles and a black eye when he does turn up, and he can only throw Luke a slightly half-hearted smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and doesn’t even call him pretty boy.

“Hi,” he says, sounding tired.

“What happened?” Luke says, frowning. Ashton shrugs.

“I owed someone a favour,” he says simply, and there’s a tone of finality to his voice that tells Luke not to pry. Luke swallows, and nods.

“You should put ice on that,” he says instead, nodding at Ashton’s eye, and Ashton huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I-” he starts, and then the door to the kitchen bangs open, and Calum’s striding out, looking stricken when he spots Ashton.

“What the fuck?” he demands, coming up to Ashton and cupping his face in his hands. “Jesus, was this Leon?”

“Ben,” Ashton corrects, and Calum drops his hand.

“Ben?” he says, an edge of fury to his voice. “Which Ben?”

“You know which Ben,” Ashton says uncomfortably, turning away from Luke and heading off towards the door. Calum jogs after him, making a noise of anger.

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin, what the fuck did I tell you about going after Ben?” he says dangerously.

“I know, but Sam said-” Ashton says, cut off by the door swinging shut behind them, and Luke never gets to find out what Sam said.

It doesn’t matter, though, because he’s gaping at the spot Ashton and Calum had just been standing in.

Ashton Fletcher Irwin, Calum had said. Ashton Fletcher Irwin.

AFI.

Luke barely even notices he’s on his feet until he’s at the door, tearing it open and looking around wildly. The cold May air heads straight for his nose and ears, but he can’t even bring himself to care, rushing down the steps when he spots Calum and Ashton arguing by two motorbikes.

“...owed him, Cal, you and I both knew he was going to call the favour in at some point,” Ashton’s saying.

“Ashton,” Luke says, and both Ashton and Calum turn to him in surprise.

“Yeah?”

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin.” Realisation dawns on Ashton’s face, and he swallows.

“Yeah,” he says, a little quieter this time.

“You?” Ashton squirms a little, and nods.

“Holy shit,” Luke says, because he doesn’t get it, can’t wrap his head around it. “Fucking- you’re AFI.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. “Look, I’m sorry, I just-”

“You read Anna Karenina?” Ashton glances at him in surprise.

“What? Yeah, it’s one of my favourite books.”

“And Hamlet?”

“Who hasn’t read Hamlet?”

“Gone With The Wind?”

“I- yeah? I just-” Luke takes a deep breath.

“You’re AFI,” he says, again. Calum’s watching this entire exchange with something between bewilderment and amusement, leant back against his bike.

“I just said that,” Ashton says.

“You wrote me romantic notes.”

“I- uh, yeah. I did.” Luke blinks at him, and takes a deep breath.

“You- did you mean them?”

“Of course I meant them,” Ashton says, sounding surprised. “How could I not? Jesus, Luke, look at you. You’re a fucking fantasy come to life. I’ve wanted nothing more than to kiss you since the day I first saw you. You think I was coming to pick Calum up from the hotel to be a good friend?” Luke stares at him. That’s the first time Ashton’s said his name, and Luke wants to hear it for the rest of his life.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment I saw you,” he says, without thinking. Ashton chokes on his next breath, and Calum sniggers behind his hand.

“I’m going to go ahead,” he says, still smirking, throwing a leg over his bike. “Be safe, boys.” Ashton flips him off as Calum kicks his bike into gear and rides off, leaving Luke and Ashton alone in the deafening silence that follows Calum’s roaring exhaust.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Ashton says, after a minute. Luke bites his lip.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he says, “but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” Ashton laughs at that, amused and fond, before his face falls again, like he’s just remembered something.

“Luke,” he says carefully. “I- look. I like you, but I’m- I’m not a good guy.”

“Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?” Ashton sighs.

“No,” he says. “I- look. I’m trying to be better, okay? But I don’t want you to get caught up in all this. I’m trying to end it.” Luke hesitates, and then nods. He’d kind of known Ashton was mixed up in something, and he finds that it doesn’t really bother him.

“Okay,” he says easily.

“No, Luke, you don’t get it,” Ashton says, sounding a little frustrated, and Luke takes a bold step forward, because what the fuck does he have to lose now, and places a hand on Ashton’s forearm.

“Hey,” he says, summoning all his courage. “You owe favours, you’re repaying debts. You don’t have to tell me what they are. I’m okay with that.” Ashton frowns at him.

“I’m ending it,” he says again, like he doesn’t think Luke believes him. “These are the last few jobs. I’ll be out of the bar in a few weeks.” Luke nods again.

“Okay,” he says. “I can wait a few weeks, if you want me to.” Ashton tilts his head, and stares at Luke.

“You’d do that?”

“Well, I’ve waited six months, haven’t I?” A slow grin spreads across Ashton’s face.

“You don’t have to wait,” he says. “It’s not- like, I’m not in the fucking mafia, or anything. I just don’t want you to get caught up in my business.” Luke shrugs.

“I’m good at lowkey,” he says, and Ashton huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I can believe that,” he says. “So. How about mine on Friday, instead of the bar?” Luke blinks at him.

“Don’t you have to work?”

“Not if I call in sick,” Ashton says. Luke hesitates, and then a small smile spreads across his lips.

“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “Yeah. I’d like that.” Ashton grins back at him, swinging a leg over his bike and pulling his helmet on.

“I’ll text you,” he says.

“Yeah,” Luke says, a little dazed. “Text me.” Ashton kicks his bike into gear, and Luke sees his eyes crinkle, which means he’s smiling.

“See you around,” Ashton says, “golden boy.”

#lashton #5sos slash #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #malum #i'm telling you i haven't struggled this much to write a fic since like 2015 #JESUS CHRIST I HAVE 2 MINUTES AND I AHVENT WRITETN AN AUTHORS NOTE FUCK ME #OH SHIT I SAVED IT AS A DRAFT INSTEAD OF POSTING IT SORRY IM 5 MINS LATE

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doc-pickles · 3 years

Text

won’t let no one break your heart (part four)

“Have the girls been adjusting well?”

“As well as they can be. Things have gotten better over the last few weeks.”

Jo and Alex sat in an empty conference room on the Peds floor with Martha, who was doing a check in with them. The girls had been with them for two months now, all four of them getting more and more used to their new living situation. Sadie had started back at school three weeks ago and Molly had adjusted quickly to the hospital daycare.

“You know, as of three days ago Sadie and Molly are officially wards of the state. Dad was let out on bail and OD’d within 12 hours of being released. Mom passed shortly after Molly was born,” Martha glanced up at Jo and Alex, who were both wearing shocked expressions. “Have you two thought about adopting? Both girls seem very attached to you and they’re both thriving. Sadie’s teacher said this is the most focused she’s been all school year.”

“Ummm we hadn't considered it actually,” Jo’s words come slowly, the shock on her face speaking for her. “We’re expecting a little boy in three and half months, taking on two more wasn’t really in the cards.”

“Well you two have been doing an excellent job regardless,” Martha packed her bag up and stood to leave. She turned back to Jo and Alex, who were still sitting there stunned, a smirk on her face. “Think about it, it might be good for you and for them.”

Alex’s mind whirled as he processed Martha’s words. Sadie and Molly had fit so easily into his and Jo’s routine that sometimes he forgot their arrangement was temporary. Both girls were beyond excited for the newest addition, always giving them new suggestions for baby names. (Molly’s favorite was currently Pinecone while Sadie’s was Elsa.)

If he was being honest, Alex would admit that he had considered adopting the girls more than once. The way that Sadie and Molly cuddled into his side on early Saturday mornings and how his wife always made sure to tuck them in no matter how tired she was cemented in his mind that the girls belonged with them. He knew Jo didn’t see eye to eye with him, but he also knew that a lot of her apprehension over the matter had to do with the fact that going from no kids to three kids in the house was terrifying to think about.

Both Jo and Alex’s pagers lit up, breaking them out of their daze with a 911 page to Trauma 2. They both stood and exited the conference room, boarding an empty elevator that slowly began its journey downstairs.

“Hey this probably means we get a case together,” Jo grinned at Alex, gripping his hand tightly. “We almost never get to work together anymore.”

Alex froze then, Jo was right. They never got paged together, especially with Jo being a fellow who didn’t usually work on cases that came through the ER anymore. His heart dropped, realizing that maybe there wasn't a case and something was wrong.

As soon as the elevator doors had opened, Alex knew he was right, Even from this far back, he could hear the screams coming from the trauma bay that he was all too familiar with. Jo broke her hand away from his, jogging as fast as she could towards Molly’s screams.

“She got hit in the forehead with a block, she probably won’t even need stitches but I think the blood is freaking her out,” Owen is standing in front of Alex now, but he can barely process what he’s saying as Molly continues to scream. “We haven’t been able to calm her down since they brought her over.”

Alex pushes past Owen, following the screams until he’s standing behind Jo outside of the trauma room. He watches as Molly finally sees Jo, her screams turning into cries as she outstretches her hands towards her, “Mama! Mama, Mama!”

If Jo is fazed by Molly’s words she doesn’t show it as she surges forward and gathers the little girl in her arms, “It’s okay baby, you’re alright.”

Molly’s cries finally settle down to whimpers as Jo rocks her back and forth, allowing Alex to look at the cut on her forehead. Owen’s right, the cut is shallow and won’t need stitches, but Molly’s face is dripping with blood. He quickly cleans her up, watching as she slowly falls asleep on Jo’s shoulder. Once she’s out, Alex takes the toddler from Jo, watching as she collapses into a fit of tears.

“I heard her screaming and I thought the worst. And she was covered in blood and I just…,” Jo takes a deep breath before a sob breaks from her throat, Alex pulling her into his chest as she continues to cry. He’d truly never seen Jo so upset, her body shaking as she curled into his embrace.

Alex knew then that he needed to convince Jo of what she couldn’t see, that she too had grown attached to the little girls that slept across the hall from them. Her fear was clouding her judgement, he knew damn well that Jo would be a great mother, she already practically was one to Sadie and Molly. Afterall, it was her who Molly had called out for and been comforted by.

Looking between Molly and Jo curled up against him, Alex couldn’t help but feel like things were falling into place for them. Everyday both Sadie and Molly taught him something new about being a parent and showed him that he didn’t have a reason to be scared about parenthood. He just hoped that Jo could see what he did…

Three days after Molly’s ER run in, Alex is blindsided by a completely different situation. He’d just finished his work for the day and was about to find Jo and Molly when both of them showed up on the Peds floor.

“Hey, I was just about to go and find you two,” Alex leaned down to kiss Jo’s cheek, his tired brain finally registering the woman standing behind his wife. “Mom? What’re you doing here?”

“I came to surprise my son and daughter in law, but instead I found out that they’ve got two and a half kids they’ve been hiding from me,” Helen leaned up to kiss Alex’s cheek, chuckling at his sheepish expression. “Oh don’t feel bad dear, this little one has already buttered me up, haven’t you Molly?”

A nervous smile spread across Alex’s cheeks as he avoided his mom’s gaze. He had only recently told his mom that she was going to be a grandmother again, but he hadn’t mentioned how far along Jo was. He was certain that if the six month baby bump his wife was sporting wasn’t enough to shock her, that the toddler on her hip was.

Alex looked from Helen to Jo, who shrugged at him to indicate that she was just as thrown off as he was. Turning back to his mom, he tried to look as sincere as possible, “Sorry mom, we’ve been… overwhelmed around here. But the girls aren’t ours, it’s just temporary.”

“Why don’t we head back to the house? It’s almost time to pick Sadie up anyways,” Jo looked to Alex with a small smile, her expression calm as if to say she would handle the situation. “We can order pizza and you can show off the new house to your mom.”

The drive to pick up Sadie and back home was loaded with Alex and Jo filling Helen in on everything happening in their lives, including how Sadie and Molly had fallen into their laps. As soon as they’d picked up Sadie though, her and Helen couldn’t stop talking. The six year old had instantly bonded with ‘Nana Helen’ and had a million questions for her.

Once they arrived back at the house, Jo hurried the girls upstairs for a bath while Alex showed his mom around the new house. A smile appeared on Helen’s face as they walked into the bedroom that they’d made up for the girls, “You know you have that same sense about you that you did when you would take care of your siblings. Like you’d do anything for those girls.”

“Well, I would, they’re special,” Alex tried to brush his mom’s comment off, but the words stuck with him. “Their case worker wants us to make it official, adopt them ya know? And Jo isn’t sold on it, but…”

“But you are, you’re already hooked,” Helen let out a small laugh at Alex’s shocked face. “Don’t act so surprised, I am your mother after all. I know that you want to keep them, so does your wife even if she can’t see that. Have you seen the way her face lights up when Molly calls her mama?”

“Oh don’t get me started on that,” Alex chuckled, wrapping an arm around his mom and bringing her into his side. “I’ll win her over. Or the girls will… either way, I think you might get three new grandkids here soon.”

After dinner had finished, Molly and Sadie both found themselves cuddled into Helen’s side while the family watched a movie together. While Molly was invested in the movie, Sadie was watching with wide eyes as Helen knitted in front of her, “What is that going to be?”

“It’s a hat for the baby,” Helen pulled at the green yarn, explaining the stitches to Sadie. “I figured he might need something to keep him warm since it’s so cold in Seattle.”

“That’s a big hat for a tiny baby,” Sadie mused, causing Alex to chuckle from across the room. “What’s so funny Alex?”

“Nothing, the hat’s just big because Karev babies have extra big heads,” Jo’s hand comes up to slap Alex’s head, prompting him to look down at his wife who was stretched out across him. “What?! You’re the one that decided to procreate with me, you’ve seen my big ass head.”

“Alexander Michael! Language! There's children here,” Jo’s tone makes Alex laugh, hearing his foul mouthed wife berate him for saying the word ‘ass’ well and truly undoing him. “Stop laughing at me, you’re insufferable.”

As Alex and Jo settled in for the night, all he could think about was what his mom had said to him earlier. Jo was laid out in bed already, palms resting on her belly, “You know I don’t get it.”

“Get what?,” Alex looked up from where he was brushing his teeth, eyeing his wife as she stared at the ceiling.

“I don’t get how you can leave your baby, your own flesh and blood, at a fire station when they’re not even a week old. I could never imagine a world where making that decision makes sense,” Jo pauses for a moment, Alex watching as her mind works out her next words. “I can’t imagine doing that to our baby, I can’t even imagine doing that to Sadie and Molly and they’re not even ours. I just… I’ve been painting this picture in my head for years that my mom did the right thing but now I’m not so sure.”

Climbing into bed and wrapping his arms around his wife, Alex pressed a kiss to her neck, “You know I’ve been thinking.”

“Always dangerous words coming from you.”

“I think we should keep the girls, make it official,” Jo turned in his arms, her eyes blown wide as she met his pleading ones. “They’re doing so good here and they’re comfortable and-”

“Alex, in a few months we’re going to have a newborn,” Jo’s fingers looped through Alex’s to press against her stomach, as if to emphasize her point. “We agreed it was only temporary, three kids is a lot to take on.”

Knowing he’d either anger or freak out Jo if he kept pushing, Alex let out a sigh as he pressed a kiss into her head, “Okay, if you say no then it’s a no. I won’t ask again.”

He settles down then, his breathing evening out and his body almost asleep when he feels wet tears soaking into his shirt. Alex knows Jo’s mind is racing just the same as his, but she doesn’t want to entertain the same ideas that he has. Instead of bringing up his wife’s emotional state, he tightens his grip around her and rubs her back silently.

“Nana I don’t want you to go, what if you just stayed with us forever?”

Helen chuckles at Sadie’s pleading tone as she zips up her suitcase. Both Sadie and Molly are perched on Helen's bed in the guest room, watching with sad expressions as she made sure she has everything. In the three days that she’d been in Seattle, both girls had grown closer to Helen than any of the adults could’ve anticipated.

“I’m sorry sweetie, I have to get back home,” Helen sat between the girls, both of them immediately climbing into her lap. “But I do have a surprise for you two.”

Helen reached into her handbag and pulled out two bright green knitted hats, the same color as the tiny one she’d been working on the past few days. Both girls eagerly put the hats on, giggling as they looked at each other.

“We look like teddy bears Nana,” Sadie swatted at the two pompoms on top of Molly’s hat with a grin. “And we match the baby’s hat!”

“Well I didn’t want you to feel left out,” Helen looked between the girls and sent a wink in Sadie’s direction. “I have a feeling that you two will be good big sisters.”

The girls spent a few more minutes enjoying Helens presence before Alex came in and interrupted, “Alright girls we gotta get Nana to the airport. If you come with us we can go to the park after.”

Molly rushed to Alex's arms, the two walking out of the room as Sadie lingered behind and looked up to Helen with a worried expression, “Do you think next time you come back that me and Molly will still be here?”

“You know what,” Helen leaned down and pressed a kiss to Sadie’s forehead. “I think you will be.”

#jolex #alex karev #jo wilson #jo karev #greys anatomy #jo x alex #jolex fanfic #jolex fic #greys anatomy fanfic #nina writes

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nicknellie · 3 years

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That’s very relatable, I’m kind of in the same boat so I get what you mean lol. Also Good morning!

Box stuff:

1. I love that as well, and when Luke’s room is particularly bad. Emily will call Alex up (the Mercers had a household phone just because) and would hope that he was around to answer it so she could ask him to clean Luke’s room.

I love that Alex just casual knows where the cleaning supplies are. Maybe that’s something that Emily and Alex do together on a random Sunday or something, they just make food together and then clean up the house.

Oh yes, sometimes Reggie will join Alex in cleaning due to a particular bad fight. Maybe that’s how the boys know that Reggie’s parents had a bad fight because Reggie won’t tell them due to the fact that he doesn’t want to bother them. But due to him cleaning they just know (also the fact that he can’t lie to them). Exactly yes! Just as you said (I hadn’t finished reading the paragraph when I said my part lol)

Yes exactly as you put it, they just go up to his room just to think about when he was still alive and how him and the boys were safe there. Oh my goodness, yes they talk to him but just like with Bobby, they can’t get a sign so they don’t know that Luke has words he never said and that he regrets that he didn’t get a chance to say them.

Yes, and Emily will always regret that she didn’t put as much support into the band as she should’ve because now she can’t take back her yelling at him to do more work and or to quit the band because education is so much more important; that he will never be able to go far with the band. So I’m listening to music and right now the song is ‘Supermarket flowers by Ed Sheeran’ and if you change around some lyrics it could be something that is Emily to Luke. (Kind of how unsaid Emily is for Emily)

3. Exactly, it’s like I somehow reached the conclusion but I have no clue how to explain to you the processes but it’s edible so.

The boys are always in awe because Alex talks while he bakes so randomly he will say something like ‘fold the flour well what if I just don’t’ ‘how is this the recipe book it gives me no instructions I need like an in-depth explanation on what the heck this means’. And then the food tastes amazing, although they once thought that Alex was just not going to include the flour (also that he was going to give them salmonella by not cooking it)

Board games and jam

1. Alex is never running out of drumsticks is hilarious. Also just love the fact that this goes on for half an hour before he stops and then once Luke has been situated and isn’t expecting Alex to throw drumstick, he throws one more.

I love that, just Reggie being so competitive when it’s legitimately Alex sneezing because he needed to sneeze. Also the fact that Alex is ready to throw drumsticks at Reggie as well. Honestly at some point Alex has thrown drumsticks at everyone (even Caleb).

Among us

It definitely would, like Luke can’t do it for anyone else but the second Alex is imposter he’s just like I know who it is.

Basically this meme: (Luke is the one saying that he has connected the dots)

Yes, however once Willie did kill Alex just to throw people off of his tail. And yes, Julie will always kill Luke first and if someone else is the imposter they will try to do the same just so people think the Julie is the imposter.

I love the accessories addition, definitely needed

Luke and Julie- yes

Willie- that is a power move and I love it

Alex- yes

Reggie- I do agree however at the same time I raise the cowboy hat

Flynn- honestly the fact that Flynn paid money to get a little character is everything and totally something that she would do.

Also if Carlos is playing then he has the paper bag

Honestly the boys thought that monopoly couldn’t get more chaotic and then they played it with Willie and Flynn and they were like this is new level. Because Flynn is competitive and she is definitely the one who would double check the rules and call out any of them if they got something wrong.

I love that Alex will just give Willie money. ‘I have no clue what you guys are talking about. Willie just has money because you guys are bad’

Despite the fact I have played Monopoly I legitimately cannot tell you what cards Flynn has that make her better than everyone else but you are completely correct. (Get out of jail for free? possibly) Also just has really good luck at picking out chance cards (maybe one of the ones in the middle idk)

Honestly I was kind of thinking that Luke would jump the table when Alex said that he wasn’t giving Willie money and that they were just bad. But I love your addition so much.

I love the fact that Reggie wouldn’t speak to Luke for a week when Luke just can’t avoid talking to them for about 2 hours. (Also Luke does the same to Reggie that they would do to Alex and Jess is in the background of everywhere with puppy dog eyes because Reggie won’t give him attention)

Numbers

2. I love this so much. Alex looks hurt about the fact that Willie is laughing however at the same time he loves his laugh. So Alex is stuck between because upset that Willie is laughing at him and the fact that Willie is laughing.

I’m glad that it changes as the story goes on, honestly right now I’m just not the biggest fan of Arthur. (I will definitely keep you informed, I’m glad that you said this because I didn’t want to over impose) Currently haven’t watched another episode so I’m still on the first one for now.

Wait yes! That is total Alex energy, also just Alex being done with Luke all the time. Just can’t believe that this is the guy he has to protect.

6. I mean Alex didn’t function after the hair flip in the show so if Bobby had been there then maybe Alex would’ve been able to function better 😂. Also yes exactly, just slaps the back of Alex’s head just so Alex will have a normal conversation with Willie and not just them staring at each other.

I mean I know you have four requests but I’m in fully support if you do want to write that after 😂. Also love how they don’t explain anything just very straight to the point and say that he shouldn’t steal their music.

8. Honestly relatable, I can’t wait for your tangent when it’s not 1am.

10. Yes exactly. Reggie is a tiny bit upset but then he’s like ‘I’m not even the one who did the developing, Bobby is and seeing as which we are kind of mad at him that’s good’. Oh my goodness, just happy Reggie staring starstruck at pictures because of how defined they are.

Alex knows that’s what Reggie is doing but of course he’s going to humour him and make the food.

11. I can’t believe you just pulled out the fact that no adult believed Reggie as a kid and you compared it to Reggie meeting a lot of celebrities. Whoa, you’re completely correct but whoa that’s painful. Yes, he has met all of them (oo nice, which Billy Joel one?). Also Luke is hurt about the fact that Reggie met him but Luke wasn’t there. To add on, Reggie has met Prince, Elton John, and Michael Jackson.

17. No, You shouldn’t go back on that, Reggie definitely has Caleb‘s baby picture like legitimately he has everyone’s baby picture even Nick.

I love that addition like Caleb tried to steal their soul but Reggie just asked for him to give Reggie his baby pictures before they poof out to do stand tall. Then next time they see each other Caleb just hands them over.

Yes, that was exactly my thought process also your addition that Caleb is mean but he isn’t stupid, about the fact that Reggie is sweet is precisely that interaction. (I mean Caleb probably saw Reggie get upset over the fact that Han Solo died and was just like Reggie is a precious being must protect. I mean take his soul but protect.)

Nope she just handed them over, just as you said. Honestly Reggie could take over the world and no one would question it just because it’s Reggie. ‘probably priceless photos and they are in some ghost scrapbook’ is the greatest comment.

Exactly yes, honestly it doesn’t matter how the hot dog is involved in the picture but there has to be one baby photo of Willie that includes him in the presence of a hotdog.

19. Agreed, usually by the point that Willie and Alex’s alliance is over. Than Alex will start one with Luke, and they will just bombard Willie with snowballs. (Just because I want Julie and Willie to be friends maybe they start an alliance just to get back at Alex and Luke) (also for Reggie he has one with Carlos)

20. They are and we did get very luck with this cast. Because no matter who you look at, they all have such great chemistry with each other and work so well with each other. For example the band demonstrate such a wonderful friendship, as do Flynn and Julie. Just flawless performances all around.

Honestly I’ve seen those as well and it just makes me upset because the show legitimately shows and has Willie say that he had no idea that Caleb was going to give them the stamps. Like he wouldn’t say that, if it didn’t actually happen. Because, if he had done it in front of Alex then it possibly could be spun in the way that he was just trying to fake out Alex (lack of better word) but he did it alone with Caleb, demonstrating that he did not know what was going to happen.

Honestly same, I just want good Caleb who adopts Alex/takes Alex under his wing. Yes! I’ve also seen theories where Caleb is actually working for someone and it isn’t entirely him who is trying to take their souls (however I think that yours is much better and I actually feel like it’s a good way for the show to not have so many villains you know. Also in general your idea was well articulated and eloquently put)

Oh my goodness, Caleb only using his power for people who hurt Willie and Alex is everything. (Also adding Reggie to that mix because)

Understandable honestly Luke and Flynn would be such a power duo and anyone who made Julie upset would need to run for their life. (Also I am totally here for another tangent, I would love to see your thoughts). And yes them arguing over who loves Julie more and somehow this gets finished because Alex randomly appears and says that he and Reggie loves Julie the most.

21. So how Alex gets arrested, I was legitimately going to send to you in another ask but then forgot so here it is. Basically they are at pride and just a lot of bad things are said so Alex punches a cop and hence him being arrested.

Also I love that either Alex vandalizing some thing or arson is your first theory. Honestly I feel like it’s Luke and Reggie who would be the reason for arson and Alex and Bobby just getting dragged along. Also you’re completely right, going on with that, one day they did graffiti of the Sunset Curve logo. Also I love how after all of this the one thing he gets nervous about is a closed museum with no one there.

25. Honestly Alex and Carries friendship would be unbeatable. Also Carrie alongside Luke and Reggie would definitely give Willie a shovel talk, just have to say.

You’re absolutely correct, honestly I feel like they would have such a better friendship than a dating relationship. (honestly it would be hilarious if it was Carrie who found out that Nick was possessed)

26. Honestly anything Willie, I just need and another hair flip is top of the list. What if Willie knows that Alex is short-circuiting around him and purposely does these things just so he can see Alex flustered. Also swimmer Willie is needed. And Willie twirling Alex’s hair is everything and I want that for S2. (Also at some point Alex braiding Willie’s hair)

32. Honestly anyone giving them stickers is completely true. Also yes, The person who gave Reggie the stickers was the park ranger. Who helped him locate the rest of the band because Reggie had wandered off

35. That is sad, also yes. Just Ray calling them his angels would be everything, also just more Reggie and Ray general.

I’m glad, mostly because ghost taking pictures for other ghost to be seen. Kind of isn’t logical but I just want Reggie to be able to take pictures of Willie. (Also the rest of the band as well)

37. Oh my goodness, that is a rollercoaster to read. Also agreed, Reggie just had no clue how to work the washing machine. He just had lights and darks all together and to this day Luke and Alex are very concerned on how Reggie turn some thing that was black into a like horrible red colour. Also yes, everyone was freaking out about how Luke could possibly set something on fire and how this happened in the two minutes that someone wasn’t watching him.

39. Yea, Ray and Trevor being friends would be so cool. Also agreed, since Julie and Carrie were close then they were kind of close as well so once Julie and Carrie fell apart then they just stopped being friends as well.

Agreed, also seeing Reggie has the Queen‘s baby photos with no content is hilarious. (Also possibly could be how Julie reacts when she randomly see the pictures)

Good morning/afternoon/night for whatever time it is when you read this! :)))

Box stuff (which is somehow not about boxes anymore idk how we got here lmfao):

1. Yes I love that! Maybe when she and Luke argue he gets like. Really mad. So he storms off up to his room and if he’s in a really bad temper he does Classic Teenage Boy Angsty Stuff and knocks things over and messes up his room. So Emily calls Alex to A) sort Luke’s room out because there’s no way he’d let her in there to help right then and B) to calm him down

Omggg I love that so much, like mother-son-bonding time between Alex and Emily 🥺 I imagine it like you said, they make food and then clean, and they’re basically just talking the entire time as if they’re close friends or really mother and son - like Alex will tell Emily about school and any drama that’s going on at the time, or he’ll complain about someone being nasty to him, and Emily will tell him stories from when she was younger or “you’ll never believe what Helen from down the road has been up to!” And they’re super close and know pretty much everything about each other omg yes

Omg omg ok now you’ve said that - back to the AU where they could give Bobby a sign and then still join Julie, what if they had the choice of people to give a sign? Like they could have chosen Bobby, Luke’s parents, Alex’s parents, Reggie’s parents, or any other people they were close (or not close) to. But they could only choose one for whatever reason and they all had to pick the same one, so they’re between Bobby and Luke’s parents and they can’t make a decision because either way someone is going to miss out on hearing from the boys ever again and it breaks their hearts either way

Ok so I listened to the song and first of all ouch. I think I remembering hearing it like a few years ago but it hits different now. And I can totally see it being about that if the lyrics are switched around and it hurts. But also I couldn’t help thinking of how perfectly it fits Julie (won’t lie, I was/am literally sobbing while thinking about this) so that made me think that after Unsaid Emily happens Julie and actually goes back and she and Emily become really close (we might have already said this? Idk there’s been so many posts now 😂) and this song is playing on the radio one day and they listen and they share their grief with each other and it’s beautiful and emotional and then Julie learns the song and I’m gonna stop before I make myself cry again

3. Lmaoooo thats amazing I love it. Alex talking to himself while baking is everything. And he sometimes straight up ignores the recipe book kind of like you said he’ll be reading it then just go “that doesn’t make any sense and it won’t work so bye bye Mr Recipe Book I think I can do this myself” and he literally just chucks it across the room and Luke and Reggie just look at each other like Oh God.

Board games and jam:

1. Omg yes exactly. Luke finally isn’t on edge anymore and he relaxes but Alex is just like bitch you thought and throws one and it strikes him right in the middle of the forehead

Alex’s weapon of choice is his drumsticks. Reggie accuses him of being suspicious and Alex just readies the sticks slowly and Reggie hides behind Julie apologising over and over again bc he saw what happened to Luke and is slightly scared of Alex now. Him using them on Caleb has me screaming I love that so much - it’s just like Caleb being in the middle of an evil speech all like “I will have your souls if it’s the last thing I do” and then just gets hit in the face by a drumstick. The camera pans round and we just see Alex getting ready to throw another like a dart.

Among Us

Yes omg that’s perfect lmao, and if Luke says it’s Alex everyone votes for him without questioning it so Alex spends the rest of his time as a ghost just terrorising Luke and not bothering to sabotage anyone or anything else

YES the one time Willie did kill Alex, Alex got really offended and wouldn’t speak to him for an entire day so Willie vowed never to do it again. Also I love how that means that no matter who’s the imposter Luke is the first to die - he’s terrible at imposter because people know that if he isn’t the first out then he’s the one doing the killing

Accessories - I FORGOT THERE WAS A COWBOY HAT yes omg you’re right that’s Reggie’s. And Carlos would definitely have the paper bag - he thinks it makes him look sneaky and he loves it

Flynn being competitive is everything - she gets loud and angry if she thinks a rule has been broken, literally she’ll snatch the rules from Alex and point them out to show she’s right. If a decision is taking too long to be reached she’ll just roll her eyes and take the money and give it to whoever she thinks is right. Alex just looks around like “I’m pretty sure this is my job??” but Flynn’s just like “don’t care, let’s get on with this.”

And I love that absjdldl like

Alex: Willie won his ten thousand dollars fair and square.

Flynn: Prove it.

Alex: No.

Yeah same lmao it’s been years since I played monopoly because it just causes arguments between me and my sisters but I think you’re right about the cards?? I honestly don’t know, but Flynn does and she’s great at magically choosing good ones lol. She just has a stash of get out of jail free cards (Alex: Are you sure there’s really that many of those in the deck? Flynn: *hiding literally hundreds of get out of jail free cards behind her back* Excuse me, are you accusing me of cheating?)

Yessss lmao like Reggie is doing his best to avoid him but whenever he like opens a door or something Luke is on the other side like 🥺 and so Reggie just shuts the door in his face and walks away again

Numbers:

2. Awww wait that’s adorable, like Alex trying to stay furious but Willie laughing just makes him unable to stay angry so he tries to look angry but it’s obvious that he isn’t and the whole effect is ruined but he still makes Reggie and Luke get him a new hoodie or at least fix the old one

Yay, great!! I didn’t like Arthur to begin with either but he’s one of my favourites now. Maybe he’ll grow on you like he did for me :)

Exactly lmao like Luke is about to do something dumb and call himself a hero meanwhile Alex is in the background working his magic to save his life like “I couldn’t have got a less stupid prince to be forever connected to huh?”

6. I love that, just Alex so entranced and literally breaking inside because omg cute boy hair flip omg help but Bobby just nudges him and he’s like oh yeah I’m in front of my friends I’ve gotta seem cool (even though they definitely know he isn’t) or if he’s really stuck then yep the slap does the trick and Alex is a little more annoyed but at least he isn’t just gawking at Willie 😂

Literally they’re just like “bro we know what you’re thinking. Don’t you dare. Literally we’ll be back in 25 years don’t worry”. And honestly I really might write it after I’ve done everything else or maybe I’ll save it until I officially finish school so I can focus on it completely bc honestly if I do it I want it to be the best it can it deserves it 😂

8. Ok so this goddamn tangent omg. It also works perfectly for Julie and the Phantoms but I’m going to focus on Sunset Curve bc like you said Bobby being lost without them it’s just like yeah ok.

They are literally the perfect recipe for a band or even just a group of friends. You’re so right that their strengths compliment each other because they’re all good at different things and they all bring so much to each other.

Luke - within the band, he’s their lead singer, their frontman, kind of the main attraction. His strengths lie in writing, singing, and guitar and that’s what he’s got the most control over in the band. He makes sure they have great material so they can sound amazing. Within their friend group, his strengths are mainly with building the others up, encouraging them and believing in them (see the whole “we’re the only family we’re ever gonna need” and “Alex you’re a great drummer and a great guy” and “dude you’re like a human wrecking ball” etc). He knows how to make his boys happier and he only ever sees the best in them. He’s protective and kind and a lot of other things too, but he’s best at being positive.

Reggie - within the band, Reggie obviously plays bass and does backing vocals. I can’t stress how underrated he is - it’s hard to hear the bassline a lot of the time but it’s the sort of thing you’d still notice if it wasn’t there. He’s an integral part of the band and it wouldn’t be the same without him. Also I’ve made a post about this in the past but his vocal range is insane. The guy can sing. His backing vocals honestly are so amazing (especially Finally Free (and obviously Now or Never and Stand Tall solos)) and he deserves more credit. Not only that but his stage presence is phenomenal. In every performance he is so into it, way more than everyone else. He bounces around, he interacts with the audience, he spins and jumps and one minutes he’s on one side of the stage and the next he’s on the other. Reggie provides the show, he hypes up the audience, he ensures everyone is having a good time because HE is having a good time. In the friend group, he serves to make people happy in a different way to Luke. He’s a literal ray of sunshine, he cracks jokes, he smiles, he gets rid of bad feelings before his friends have a chance to feel them. He provides the joy and the distraction.

Alex - the drummer is such an important part of any band. He keeps time and they would literally fall apart without him. He’s at risk of being overlooked a lot because he’s at the back of the stage and can’t move, but he’s so passionate about it all that he still captivates peoples attention. Still he is more of a background part, but like with Reggie it would be obvious if he was missing. As part of the friend group, Alex is the most sensible. Yeah, he still lets them do dumb shit and he joins in, 100% but he stops them from going too far. He makes sure everyone is safe and is the one to stop bad decisions being made. Alex provides safety and comfort and is there for protection.

Bobby - as a rhythm guitarist he is also another really important part that goes overlooked as well. We don’t get to see him play much in the show so it’s hard to say too much about his role in the band as a whole, but he does add that extra little something - sure, they could probably have the band without him, but it wouldn’t be the same. There would be something missing or not quite right, a gap that would need filling because it wouldn’t have that complete, full sound. As we’ve discussed before, Bobby is like the group’s counsellor. He’s there to listen to their problems, to help them through it, to listen and understand what they’re going through. Bobby provides a listening ear and somebody to talk to when things are difficult.

So all their strengths match because they’re all different and they all pull together to make one functioning band.

But then when three of them are gone, Bobby is left all alone. He doesn’t have Luke there anymore he reassure him and tell him everything is going to be fine and that he’s strong enough to get through it; he doesn’t have Reggie there to say something - anything - and make him smile just for the sake of smiling; he doesn’t have Alex there to stop him from doing something stupid (like stealing their music or doing any number of reckless things he could have done over the years); and he can’t take his own advice and move on without all of them there to help him through it. It could have been any member of Sunset Curve who was left behind that night, but no matter what they would have fallen apart because all they ever needed was each other and without that they lose all ability to function.

11. Lmao yes he managed to meet a load of celebrities because he would go to a lot of concerts and meet them but he just wouldn’t think to explain that when he told people so they didn’t think he was telling the truth

(And the Billy Joel concert was at Shea Stadium which according to Google actually took place in 2008 but it was really really good)

17. Lmao he definitely has Nick’s baby pictures. When they eventually find out that Caleb is possessing Nick, Reggie dedicates a page to Nick in his Caleb scrapbook because technically they were the same person for a while and that’s where the baby photos go

Yessssss that’s brilliant. The real reason Reggie doesn’t get to Stand Tall until after Alex is because he tugged on Caleb’s sleeve first and was like “real quick I need your baby photos. You can give them to me whenever” then he poofs out. He has his priorities in order

lol yes “take his soul but protect” is perfect. And like kinda the same for all of them? I do desperately want Caleb to end up good because like you just know that he would do anything to keep Alex, Reggie, Luke, Willie, and probably Julie (he’d really respect her because of her power and also everyone loves Julie) happy

Literally, Reggie could walk into the White House and ask to be president and anyone except Trump would be out of their chair in an instant like yes sir you run the country now thank you. He could announce his plans for world domination and all the leaders of other countries would just be like “sounds like a good plan boss”

19. I love that, like the alliances start as Alex and Willie, Reggie and Luke, Julie and Carlos but over time Alex and Willie turn on each other and use any opportunity for attack, Reggie and Luke start arguing because one of them accidentally got the other, and right from the start Carlos is pelting Julie with snowballs over and over again so they very quickly divide into the absolutely perfect dream teams you said!!

20. Exactly!! Like I don’t watch all the behind the scenes and the only time I really find anything out about the cast is scrolling through Instagram every other day or on here, but still everything I’ve seen of them together shows that they’re basically a little family. And like you said they all have so much chemistry on screen, their dynamics are so beautifully built and the best part is that there are not bad actors! I won’t lie, like there’s time from all of them when the acting isn’t perfect but that’s the same with any actor or actress and overall they do incredibly

!!!!!!!! Exactly!!!!!! You’re so right, and anyone who is against Willie is A) probably racist and B) completely ignoring what happens on screen even though it’s all obvious and they’re literally just choosing to believe he’s a bad guy smh

Thank you!! I’ve seen those theories too and I do like them but I just don’t think Caleb would be so into the whole soul-stealing thing if it was for somebody else and not for him which is why I think it’d be better if he turned nice (or turned nice, completed his unfinished business, handed over the HGC to Willie and crossed over). And yeah like you said I think once you add Caleb’s boss that’s just too many evil people. Id rather give everyone whos meant to be an antagonist (Caleb, Carrie, Trevor) character development or redemption arcs than add yet another villain

Oh yes definitely add Reggie to that list!!!

Honestly the Luke and Flynn friendship might deserve a post of its own 😂 I’ve already done one long tangent and I think this could be longer so I might do the whole thing separately lmao. but YES lmao if you mess with Julie you’d better watch out bc Flynn and Luke would be on their way with weapons. Alex solving the argument like that is everything lmaooo

21. OMG yes you’re so right. Let Alex Mercer Punch Cops 2k21!!!!! 100% that is what happens, absolutely no argument there

Ajsbdkskd yeah I love that for me, Alex gets in trouble so it must be arson. But yeah I actually like yours better, Reggie and Luke would be the ones to casually set stuff on fire. I feel like Alex would try to put it out but accidentally make it worse and Bobby would just be watching and quietly enjoying himself thinking the entire thing is hilarious. Yessss omg Sunset Curve graffiti all over Hollywood with the caption “Tell Your Friends” and it ends up being how they get most of their recognition and sell tickets to gigs and stuff. And yeah lmao plus he’s invisible he literally can’t be caught 😂😂

25. Oh yeah Carrie would be the first to do it like even though she can’t see Willie she’d be all up in his face laying down the rules

Right??? Their friendship has so much potential and way better than romantic (and that’s not just because I think Carrie is a lesbian, although she definitely is and that’s definitely a part of it lmfao). Honestly Carrie figuring out Nick being Caleb would really be glorious. Like, she asks him again to get back together with her but he has said no so many times by now that’s she’s expecting him to say no again, but Caleb thinks it could be a way to get Julie jealous and aid his plan so he says yes and Carrie is immediately like nope something is off.

26. He so would. He’d have a mental list of everything that makes Alex lose his mind and he’d make sure to do everything on it at least once a day

32. Wait that’s so cute 🥺😂 Reggie just getting distracted and wandering away and the park ranger being like ok first here have a sticker and second let’s go find your friends. Reggie immediately befriends the park ranger and makes sure to come back with a batch of cookies Alex made as a thank you bc he would not have made it out of there if the ranger hadn’t found him

37. Yeah lmao Reggie tried his hardest but just. Failed miserably. Lmao I love that detail of him completely changing somethings colour and Alex and Luke just being like wtf how did you do that. In the two minutes someone wasn’t watching him Luke managed to put his arm in a candle. Candles are now banned from the studio. Lmao if it happened while they were ghosts then Julie and Alex and Reggie would have just been talking then they’d hear a panicked “JULIE HELP” and turn round to see Luke on fire

Lmao Julie sees the queen’s baby photos and is like “why do you have some random old baby in this scrapbook?” and Reggie is just like “oh that’s the queen” and Julie is the first person who’s ever believed him without an explanation

#this took nearly two hours because of my tangent lmaooo #williexmercer #asks #emily answers

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javier-djarin · 4 years

Text

Como Me Duele: Chapter 8

Ship: Javi x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,563 words

Warnings: Language, Smut, Soft!Javi

Masterlist

(Gif source @thewaythisis)

Summary: Your relationship with Javi is tested after a tragic incident. You worry about his sanity, and he’s more concerned with your safety.

A/N: This chapter was fun to write, even though parts of it just hurt so much. For those of you that don’t know, the title of this fic translates to “Oh how it hurts.” Thank you again for all the love and support! Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my tag list! Chapter 9 coming soon! Also, translations are at the bottom.

Your POV

“Anoche hubo una emboscada que resultó en varias muertes de oficiales del Bloque de Búsqueda. Se desconoce si hay sobrevivientes. Entre los muertos está el coronel Carrillo. Muchos sospechan que Pablo Escobar estaba detrás del ataque.”

That was the news broadcast you woke up to, which instantly caused your heart to drop. Javi didn’t come home last night, and Steve wasn’t answering your calls. You grabbed your house coat and walked down the hall to his apartment and knocked. Much to your surprise, Connie answered.

As soon as you saw her, you burst into tears. You knew if she was back, something happened. “Where’s Steve?”

She cracked the door open and you saw him sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand and his head bowed. You ran to him and knelt in front of him. “What happened?”

He just shook his head.

“Where’s Javi?”

“He’s fine. We weren’t allowed to go on the raid,” he mumbled.

Thank God, you thought. You could kiss their new boss.

“The information that Javi got….” he paused and tried to swallow some tears. “It was a set up.” His voice cracked just a little, but enough to show that he was upset.

Connie came over and sat in the chair next to their couch, leaning over her knees.

“Where’s Javi?” you asked again. “He didn’t come home last night.”

Steve shrugged. “The last time I saw him, he was halfway through a bottle of whiskey at the office.”

You sighed, hoping he fell asleep at the office. You slowly stood up. “Maybe he’s made it back by now.”

Shuffling your feet, you headed for the door, but Connie stopped you. She wrapped you in a hug. “He’s going to be fine.”

You nodded as you turned back towards your apartment. Your door was opened, and you saw Javi sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV Screen. “Javi!” You exclaimed as you closed the door and ran to him. You knelt in front of him and rested your hands on his knees. “I was so worried. I thought….”

“Don’t,” he mumbled.

You froze, unsure of what to say. You just waited for him to speak again. He sat in silence for a long time before looking at you. “It’s all my fault.” Tears brimming at the edge of his eyes.

“How could you have known?” you whispered.

“I-I should have known better.”

You crawled onto the couch next to him and pulled his head into your lap. He turned into you, burying his face in your shirt. “Javi, this is not your fault,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. “There is no way you could have known this was bad intel.”

He sat up and looked at you. “My intel got good men murdered at the hands of that motherfucker. I knew it was too good to be true!”

You tried to remain calm, as you understood this was his grieving process. “Javi, you didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t tell Carrillo and his men to follow the information.”

“It was my lead.”

You saw a piece of paper in his hand. “What’s that?”

He looked down at his clenched fist. “It’s the address of that bitch who set us up.” He stood up and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” He stormed out of the apartment, leaving you helpless. You felt the tears you were holding back spill over. You were hurting for Javi, and you had no idea how to help him. He was so lost, so broken. You felt like anything you did to help him just made things worse.

His POV

He sat in his Jeep for several minutes staring at the garage wall. He felt like shit for the way he treated her, but then again, he was used to feeling like shit. Javi knew she was just trying to help, but he didn’t want it. No, he didn’t deserve it. He deserved every bit of the pain he felt, every sliver of regret and survivor’s guilt. He was supposed to be with that raid. He should be dead alongside Carrillo. He was hurting, hurting so bad that he didn’t know how to process or deal with it. He looked at the address in his hand, and suddenly the guilt was gone, replaced by white hot rage.

He backed out of the garage and headed for Search Bloc to find Trujillo. It was time for some justice, even if he had to dole it out himself.

***

They were sitting outside a random building they followed Limón to. It wasn’t until he left did they see Velasco was in there. He dialed Search Bloc’s number. “It’s Peña. Estoy aquí con Trujillo en la esquina de las calles 38 y 24. Necesitamos una copia de seguridad.”

“Lo siento, pero no hay autorización para despachar patrullas,” dispatch replied.

“Estamos viendo a uno de los muchachos de Escobar. Acaba de entrar al edificio,” he growled into the phone.

“Regrese a la base con la ubicación.”

He hung up the phone and mumbled to himself, “Cierto. Y aparecerás el próximo martes, Hijo de puta.”

There was no way just he and Trujillo could take on the entire building. They needed back up, but their back up was useless. Frustrated, he grabbed the phone again and dialed a number he knew he would regret. It wasn’t until Don Berna and The Castaño brothers were walking up to him did he feel the pit of his stomach drop. There was no going back from this, no matter how bad he wished he could just walk away.

Your POV

For the last three days, Javi had been in Medellín without so much as a call. You cried yourself to sleep every one of those nights worrying about him. You called Steve this morning, and he told you that Javi was fine; just busy with work. That didn’t make you worry any less. He was hurting, and you were afraid this pain was going to send him down a road he’d never come back from. With everyone gone, including Connie back to the States, you picked up more hours at work to pass the time.

You were standing at the nurses’ station looking through a patient’s file when Dr. Rodriguez approached you. “¿Está todo bien?”

“Sí. Está todo bueno,” you replied, afraid to look up and meet his gaze.

He smiled at you. “No te creo. Parece que hace estado llorando.”

You bottom lip quivered, and a few tears fell on to the paper. “Estoy bien.”

He gently grabbed you by the arm and led you into an empty patient room. “¿Que pasa?”

You took several deep breaths before looking up into his eyes. They were filled with concern, which warmed your heart that he cared. “Mi novio. Estoy preocupada por él. Tiene un tiempo difícil con el trabajo y no le he visto en un rato.”

“Su novio, ¿es esto que hombre de la barra? Javi?”

You nodded. You watched him as he contemplated what to say next. “¿Quieres salir conmigo esta noche? Te ayudará a distraerte.”

You felt your heart race. You knew Dr. Rodriguez liked you, you’ve known since that night at the club. As much as you wanted a distraction, you knew he would be the wrong kind. He would push the boundaries as coworkers and friends. So you shook your head. “No. Quiero estar en casa, por si llama.”

“No puede esperarlo para siempre,” he said, annoyed at your rejection.

“Para él, esperaría para siempre,” you said, knitting your eyebrows together.

He shook his head and walked out of the room, saying, “Hace un error grande.”

You grabbed the phone off the wall and dialed the office in Medellín. It rang several times before someone answered. “Javier Peña, por favor,” you said.

The phone rang a few more times. “Peña,” his deep baritone came through the receiver.

“Javi,” you breathed. Hearing his voice immediately relaxed you. “Javi,” you started to cry.

“Hey,” he soothed, “what’s wrong, mi vida?”

You tried to stop the tears, but they kept coming. “I’ve been so worried about you, and I haven’t heard from you in days….and….”

“Shhh, hermosa. I am okay,” he said, “I’ve just been swamped here.” You heard another phone, his cellphone, ring in the background. “I’ve got to go.” He hung up.

Your heart broke. For the first time in months, he didn’t bother to say “I love you.” Tears flowed down your face, this pain was almost worse than when Michael betrayed you. You sighed and wiped your eyes. You still had to finish your shift, no matter how bad this hurt.

As usual, your shift passed slowly, but once you got home, you were able to sit and breathe. You looked at the phone, debated on calling him again. Despite what you wanted, you decided not calling was for the best. He wanted to be alone for a bit, and you were going to let him, no matter how much that pained you.

His POV

It was late and he was sitting at his desk, staring into the bottom of his glass. Shit was hitting the fan, and he was in the middle of it all. To top everything off, Los Pepes emerged as a vigilante group - the very group he was working with. He cursed that call that interrupted them. It was dispatch telling him they found Velasco’s body. The longer he thought about that call, the more he regretted avoiding her. She deserved better than that. Better than him. The second he called Berna, he was no longer on the side of the good guys, and she deserved only the best. Now that he was allied with a narco, he knew this would only end one way. She was no longer safe down here. He sighed and looked at the clock. It was 11:30. She would be asleep, but he needed to hear her voice one last time.

The phone rang only twice before she answered. “Hello,” she said. He could tell she had been crying.

“Mi vida,” his voice cracked.

“Javi? Is everything alright?” Her voice trembling.

His heart burst. She was hurting and all she cared about was him. “I’m fine.” He sighed. “I think you should go home.”

She gasped. “What? No.”

His voice was the one trembling now. “Please, for me.”

“Javi, I’m not leaving you.”

“Things are getting dangerous, and I just want to keep you out of harm’s way.”

“And what about you? Don’t I get a say?” Her voice grew louder.

“Don’t worry about me, Y/N. I’m going to get exactly what I deserve.” His heart was racing now.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Javi?”

He ran his hand down his face. “It means exactly what it sounds like.”

The other end of the line was silent. He could have sworn she’d hung up if he didn’t hear the tiny muffled sobs coming from the other end. “Hermosa,” he whispered.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

His blood turned to ice.

“On one condition. You tell me the truth. Why do you want me gone? And don’t give me that bullshit of ‘you think I’ll be happier with someone better than you’, because that won’t happen. There is no one better than you. So, dime la verdad.”

He wanted to smile at her, run to her and kiss her like it was their last. But the days of smiling had long passed when he killed his brothers. He might not have pulled the trigger, but he signed their warrant. He took several deep breaths. “Because I’ve made some very dangerous friends down here that scare me where you’re concerned.”

“Javi, what did you do?”

“Sold what was left of my soul. But I refuse to let them take my heart, which is why I need it to get home. Back to the states, where you’re safe from them.”

“Okay,” she agreed, though he could tell she was crying again. “But the minute something catastrophic happens, I’m on the first flight back. You’re not going to suffer alone. Not when you have someone who loves you as much as I do.”

He felt himself breathe again; relieved she was listening to him. “I will send someone from the embassy to pick you up. They will stay with you until you are on the plane.”

“Javi?” She said softly.

“Yes, mi vida.”

“Cuídate, mi amor.”

“Siempre, mi hermosa.” He paused, not wanting to hang up the phone. “Te quiero, Y/N. Te quiero más que a nada en el mundo.”

“Te quiero, Javi. Te quiero mucho.” She hung up the phone, while he kept the line open until he heard the dial tone again.

He wanted to change his mind, have her stay. But he knew that was selfish. She was going to be in the crosshairs the entire time, and he couldn’t risk that. He needed to keep her safe, even if it was at the expense of his suffering. Now he understood why Steve was more on edge than ever. He found his one, the fabled person he’s meant to be with, and now that he was sending her away, he felt like he was cutting off a limb. He felt alone.

Your POV

You woke up the next morning and called the hospital. You were working the night shift, but you told them that a family emergency took place and you needed to take a few days with your family. Your flight left at night, which gave you plenty of time to pack. You were only expecting to be gone for no more than a week. It broke your heart at the thought of leaving him here, but you knew it was the only way he would have a peace of mind.

It was about 9:00 AM when you heard a knock at your door. You wrapped your robe around you and answered the door. Much to your surprise, Javi was waiting on the other side. The second he saw you, his lips found yours. He closed the door behind him and lifted you in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. You didn’t care about talking right now. You were just happy to have him in your arms again.

He gently set you on the bed as you stripped free of your robe. His eyes lit up when he saw you were wearing his Fleetwood Mac concert T-shirt as pajamas, but there was no smile. Your heart broke, and for a second you worried that you would never see him smile again. But in that moment, you decided to make it your mission to bring the smile back. You knew today, your last day together for a while, was not going to be that day. But soon, you would see his beautiful smile again.

Slowly, Javi slid off his shirt from your body before undoing his own. He was wearing the blue button down you loved on him, but you loved it even better off. He leaned down to kiss you delicately, and then passionately. His lips and tongue tasted yours as you both let your hands explore your favorite parts. Yours quickly found his belt as you started to undo it. Without leaving your lips, he helped you, and as he stood a little to slide them off, you raised too, so you wouldn’t lose that connection. As you laid back down, his hands ran down your body at an excruciating slow pace; almost as if he was savoring every inch of you and committing it to memory. You arched your back and deepened your kiss as he massaged your breasts. His hands had never felt so good on your skin before. His touch was almost enough to send you over the edge.

He rested his hands on your hips as he kissed your neck and jaw, your hands grabbing fists full of his hair. “Javi,” you said his name with a sigh.

“Mi amor,” he said, his warm breath causing goosebumps on your skin. “Mi vida.” He planted a kiss between your breasts. “Mi hermosa.” He kissed your stomach. “Mi perfecta.”

Tears fell down your cheeks. You felt like this was less “I’ll miss you” and more “goodbye.” But instead of focusing on that, you focused on the man between your legs making the most passionate love to you.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, your body already aching for him. You cried out when you felt his mouth where you wanted him. He groaned against you, the vibrations sending you even further into your ecstasy. He licked his fingers and gently placed them in you as his thumb rubbed your clit. He moved the rest of his body up to your face as he kissed you. He didn’t have to say it, but you knew he wanted you to look into his eyes when you came. His fingers moved methodically and slowly as you ground your hips into his palm. You grabbed his other arm with your hand, while the other gripped the sheets. “Come for me, hermosa,” he whispered as he looked down on you with all the love and desire in his eyes.

It only took a few more seconds, and your body clenched around him as you came. You continued to look into his eyes as you cried out his name. He kissed you deeply, taking his name off your lips. “I need you, Javi,” you said, breathless.

He kissed you again. “I need you, mi corazon.” His voice cracked.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him to you. This time you kissed him deeper, opening your mouth to welcome him. His kiss was desperate, passionate, bittersweet. He slid into you with ease and you held him. “I never want to leave this moment,” you said, kissing his cheeks and then his eyes. You noticed they were wet, but you didn’t say anything. Because so were yours. He filled you completely, perfectly, and you never wanted him to leave.

He moved slowly, pulling back and then carefully thrusting in; trying to make this moment last a lifetime. You whimpered and bit your bottom lip as you looked into his eyes, eyes that you could get completely lost in. You grabbed his hair with one hand and the other ran down his back. You could feel every ripple and muscle in his body with every movement. He leaned down to kiss you, again, like he couldn’t get enough of your taste. He moved just a little faster, and she moaned into his kiss. “Oh, Javi,” you cried.

He moaned your name back, almost like a prayer. ‘Te quiero, mi corazon,” he said.

More tears fell down your face. “Te quiero, el amor de mi vida.”

You met each of his thrusts with the grinding of your hips. His slow pace was wonderful and excruciating. Your body craved more, but you knew that meant he would be gone sooner. “J-javi,” you moaned.

He groaned as his name fell off your lips and you felt him move faster. He knew just what you needed to send you over the edge into your euphoria. He licked his thumb and placed it between the two of you to create the right amount of friction. You cried out and arched your back. Soon, you were coming, a wave of pleasure washing over you, burning your body inside and out. You cried out again as he continued. You looked in his eyes and saw he was trying to hold on as long as possible. After you came again, he gave in to his desire and followed you soon after, saying your name again.

He collapsed on your chest, remaining inside of you. He kissed you again. “I wish you could stay,” he finally admitted, “but I refuse to keep you in danger. I can’t concentrate on my job until I know you’re safe.”

You kissed him lightly. “I’ll call you as soon as I land.”

He rolled over and pulled you against him. Kissing the top of your head. “I’m taking you to the airport tonight.”

As happy as you were that he was taking you, you asked, “Are you sure? What about the embassy?”

He ran his fingers up and down your arm, sending chills all over your body. “I’ve done enough for them. They can spare me for a day.”

You curled up next to him, listening to his breathing. It was ragged and slow. As much as you wanted to stay, you promised him you’d leave, you’d stay safe. You loved him enough to leave him. “When this is over, come home to me,” you said.

“Of course,” he replied, but you could tell in the tone of his voice he didn’t believe he’d survive this. Whatever or Whomever he “sold his soul” to was going to cash in on that deal before this was all said and done. You felt your heart ache. You wanted to take him with you, protect him from whatever was going to come his way. Something told you he believed this was it, but you refused to let him be right. You would get your Javi back if it was the last thing you did.

Translations

Anoche hubo una emboscada que resultó en varias muertes de oficiales del Bloque de Búsqueda. Se desconoce si hay sobrevivientes. Entre los muertos está el coronel Carrillo. Muchos sospechan que Pablo Escobar estaba detrás del ataque. - Last night there was an ambush with resulted in several deaths of officers from Search Block. It is unknown if there are any survivors. Among the dead is Colonel Carrillo. Many suspect that Pablo Escobar was behind the attack.

Estoy aquí con Trujillo en la esquina de las calles 38 y 24. Necesitamos una copia de seguridad. - I'm here with Trujillo at the corner

of 38th and 24th streets. We need back up.

Lo siento, pero no hay autorización para despachar patrullas. - I'm sorry, but there's no authorization to dispatch patrols.

Estamos viendo a uno de los muchachos de Escobar. Acaba de entrar al edificio. - We're watching one of Escobar's guys. He just entered the building.

Regrese a la base con la ubicación. - Return to base with the location.

Cierto. Y aparecerás el próximo martes, Hijo de puta. - Sure. And you'll show up next Tuesday, son of a bitch.

¿Está todo bien? - Is everything okay?

Sí. Está todo bueno. - Yes, everything’s fine.

No te creo. Parece que hace estado llorando. - I don’t believe you. You look like you’ve been crying.

Estoy bien. - I’m fine.

¿Que pasa? - What’s going on?

Mi novio. Estoy preocupada por él. Tiene un tiempo difícil con el trabajo y no le he visto en un rato. - My boyfriend. I'm worried about him. He's having a hard time at work, and I haven't seen him in a while.

Su novio, ¿es esto que hombre de la barra? Javi? - Your boyfriend, is it that man from the bar? Javi?

¿Quieres salir conmigo esta noche? Te ayudará a distraerte. - Do you want to go out with me tonight? It will help distract you.

No. Quiero estar en casa, por si llama. - No. I want to stay home, in case he calls.

No puede esperarlo para siempre. - You can’t wait for him forever.

Para él, esperaría para siempre. - For him, I would wait forever.

Hace un error grande. - You’re making a big mistake.

Dime la verdad. - Tell me the truth.

Te quiero más que a nada en el mundo. - I love you more than anything in the world.

El amor de mi vida. - The love of my life.

Tag List

@larakasser @magneticbucky @pedropascalownsmyheart @wander-lustbabe @frietiemeloen

#Javier Pena #Javier Peña #Javier Pena x Reader #Narcos #Como Me Duele

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