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animentality · 1 year

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I’ve seen some of your posts about Star Trek, and decided that I want to start watching it. Where do you think I should start?

Oh BOY.

See, this is a fascinating question. Technically, there are several places you could hop in. I will give you the pros and cons of each.

The short answer is honestly The Next Generation (TNG) or Deep Space Nine (DS9).

TNG is on the edge of accessible and non-accessible. It's a little dated, but still stands up well to the test of time. Its stories are self-contained and often don't need context from the greater world or previous episodes. It's thoughtful and optimistic about the human condition and highly intelligent.

But DS9 is easier for the modern TV watcher to start with, because it's more realistic, grounded, and it fleshes out its characters and their interpersonal dramas more.

It's also this clean mix between episodic and more serialized, so you'll get the fun and outstanding standalone episodes, like TNG's greatest hits, but mixed in with a fascinating overarching narrative, which will have a lot of fun space battles and space politics and something you can really sit down and get invested in.

so I'm biased to DS9, as you can tell.

But I concede to TNG too.

That's my short answer.

I'll also give you my short answer proposed order too:

DS9 or TNG first

Then watch DS9 or TNG, depending on which one you picked to watch firrst.

Followed by VOY.

You don't have to watch TOS, but if you're invested by that point, it might be fun.

Then skip ENT.

And from there, you get into modern Trek.

I'd give Discovery a try, because it's definitely high octane, easy for a modern viewer to get into.

But skip Picard, which is just...awful.

Then definitely watch Lower Decks, which is really fun.

Then check out Strange New Worlds, which is pretty good.

That's my short proposed order.

But if you care...here is my LONG answer, where I explain the pros and cons of starting at different spots.

TOS: The BEGINNING.

The Original Series, commonly shorted to TOS by fans.

Pros: This is the literal beginning of it all. If you wanted to really get into the lore of Star Trek and be this mega nerd who has a strong opinion about every following Star Trek interpretation, and get your nerd credentials, then this is a good place to start. Plus, some people don't mind the "oldness" of it, because it's simple, it's silly, and it's fun. The characters themselves are fun, and memorable. The episode plots range from ridiculous and batshit insane to thoughtful and somber and philosophical. You get to watch the OGs, Spock and Kirk and Uhura and Scotty and Bones, who are all iconic in their own way. It's also a nice little ensemble of goofballs, and you'll get to understand and appreciate the silly little TOS memes. Plus, I personally find it iconic how the TOS fandom is still going strong...after literally fifty seven years. That's icon status, baby.

Cons: IT REALLY IS VERY OLD. And kind of hard to get into, if you're not looking to watch a show that is VERY dated. I fully admit that I haven't re-watched TOS much. It's just not everyone's cup of tea, you know? It has its great moments, but I very rarely recommend TOS to people because I don't want to scare them off from Star Trek! So I wouldn't recommend starting here. Maybe watch it later, after other series, to get a well rounded view of the world, but TOS is sort of an odd place to start for the modern TV watcher. Ironically.

TNG: The SUCCESSOR

The Next Generation, commonly shortened to TNG.

Pros: TNG is iconic in its own way. It has its own memorable crew of Jean Luc Picard, William Riker, Deanna Troi, Geordi LaForge, Beverly Crusher, Worf, our best robot boy Data. It has aged much better than TOS, with a greater number of standalone episodes and thought provoking plots. It has some of the most brilliant non-serialized writing of all time, with great social and political commentary that hadn't ever been discussed in TV at that point, and honestly aren't even being discussed now. Its highs are peak Star Trek, with some of the most intelligent analysis of what it means to be an evolved human being ever created for television. It takes a serious look at many aspects of humanity through the lens of "alien" troubles, and its philosophical ramblings are deep, rich, and often thickly layered. That being said...

Cons: It's highly episodic, so you won't find yourself really "gripped" by one single or even multiple plot threads. If you don't like non-serialized stories, then well, most of the stories are designed to be enjoyed without the context of the rest of them. Also, some of it is wildly dated. ESPECIALLY the first season, which is a fucking mess, with like...almost no redeeming episodes. The pilot is AWFUL. The female characters are handled...in such a sexist way that it's honestly kind of enraging. Now it DOES get better, much better, by mid season two, and pretty much starts pumping out nothing but bangers by season 3, but... there will still be some dated stuff. Plus, even the really good episodes are still paced rather slowly. So keep that in mind, if you want to start with TNG....

ALSO, extra note: The crew has great chemistry with each other, but it doesn't do much in terms of fleshing them out in the early seasons. Gene Roddenberry, the creator, really didn't want the crew to have interpersonal dramas, or even want to show them relaxing or hanging out at all. Later seasons you'll see more character moments, which are great, but... TNG and TOS kind of skimp out on showing you the human elements. You aren't often allowed to get close to the characters, see their inner lives, their personal feelings about situations, the issues they have, with themselves or others. There's a distance, this professional aura to the show, which can be kind of daunting and a little alienating, no pun intended. So keep that in mind...

But now we come to the show I am most biased towards, and shamelessly.

DS9- The REALIST

Deep Space Nine, shortened to DS9.

I must start this segment by admitting, DS9 is my favorite and I am fucking biased. That being said, I first watched it when I was 9, and didn't have any problem understanding it without seeing the other Treks. There are also a million other things it has going for it that would make it the easiest place for a modern TV watcher to hop in.

So full disclosure, this IS where I would recommend you start. But anyway:

Pros: Like I said, it did away with some of that professional distance that TNG was so well known for. The characters are richer, more fleshed out, more flawed. They don't like each other in the beginning. They have to earn their found family, and that just makes it sweeter and more poignant when they finally begin to see themselves as a family. DS9 is the "grittier," edgier Star Trek, the one that seriously tests the hopeful optimism of the future...but it never breaks it. That's important to note. It still understands the idea that humans have evolved to be better.

It covers more controversial topics in a more straightforward way. War, genocide, fascism, political instability, coups, war crimes, espionage, propaganda, religious dogma, trauma, it can get pretty heavy. But there still is this hopefulness to how characters grow and change and heal from past traumas. It also fleshes out the aliens more than TNG or TOS, taking a more nuanced perspective of them, and even has individuals who fight back against the "mono" culture that was so popular in early star trek.

As mentioned above, it also blends serialized with non serialized. You get standalone episodes, and episodes that follow up on pre-existing plots. That's where you get the nuances and the depth and the richness of the universe, as well as the interpersonal relationships of the crew.

Now for the Cons:

NONE. It's perfect.

Just kidding.

Some people don't like DS9 because of its darkness, but in just terms of where to start...I agree that there ARE some things that come from TNG that you might appreciate more if you watched TNG first. It does mostly explain these things, but the flesh comes after the bones, you know. Also, DS9 has its weaknesses in season 1, same as TNG. It has some real stinkers. It doesn't get going until season 3, and also? You know how I said it's political?

Well, some of the politics are reallllly boring. Not very sci fi, dare I say. You might find it better to watch with a guide that can tell you what to skip, because some of the early stuff is pretty bad. It also took some time to find its footing, which means there are some elements to it that might come across as just bizarre.

But anyway.

As I said, my favorite Star Trek, and where I personally started. But anyway.

Moving on...

Voyager- the Troubled

Voyager, commonly shortened to VOY.

Pros: First female captain, and she's very charismatic. For feminism reasons alone, you could start with VOY. It also has the most interesting beginning concept too. Voyager is a warship that gets dragged out and stranded in the Delta Quadrant, which is far, far from where Star Trek normally operates. So it's about a crew, stranded in what is essentially hostile alien territory, with no one to help them. Their whole mission is just to get back home, which will take them 70 years to get back to. So it has that going for it. It also has its own fascinating little crew, which has great interpersonal relationships and some great sci fi standalone stories. It does have its own overarching stories as well, which makes for some fun action and drama. Also in terms of understanding what's happening without seeing other Star Treks? Pretty good. Less connected than DS9, mostly, with a few glaring exceptions.

That being said...

Cons: Just like TNG and DS9, atrocious first 3 seasons. Also, Voy is sort of known for being a little sloppy. The writing is all over the board, ranging from mediocre to absolutely dogshit to not bad actually to pretty decent. It's a fun premise, but it's squandered a little. Characters are also inconsistent, depending on who's writing that particular episode. Unlike other Treks, it also doesn't quite meet the standard of mediocre, not even by season 3. It also doesn't flesh out some of its characters, and squanders a lot of their potential. It also has a very strange and rushed ending...also, it tries to be as edgy as DS9, but without the emotional depth, which often comes across as distasteful and even dare I say, boorish. So it has a lot going against it.

Moving to....

Enterprise- the Yikes

Shortened name: ENT

Full fucking disclosure. I fucking hate Enterprise.

Its stories are bad, most of the time. Its best episodes are still mediocre, by other Star Trek standards. Its overarching stories are terrible, with only a few even potentially interesting.

Also it got fucking cancelled by season 4, so its finale is baaaad.

Don't start with Enterprise.

Pros: Archer is great. I love Trip. T'Pol is adequate. So that's three good characters. There's one plot that's kind of cool.

Cons: It only has 3 good characters. And they are so waaaasted. As is that one plot.

So.

Moving on.

Now we get to modern trek.

Star Trek Discovery - the Doing Its Best

Nomenclature: DIS

Alright, full disclosure again. I watched two seasons of it, before quitting. But I can tell you this.

Pros: It's exciting and fresh and high quality. No more dorky little alien suits. State of the art CGI. High octane sci fi stories. Lots of death and drama and characters all hate each other and have trauma and don't want to deal with it. It's definitely made for the modern audience, and it has this like...disdain for other Star Treks. So if you haven't seen the other Star Treks, don't worry, it also has not. Not a bad place to start, if you don't care much for older shows and want something fun and new and set in space, and you like seeing phasers blow stuff up.

Cons: If you were interested in Star Trek for its hopeful future, that isn't what DIS is. DIS is more like, what if we had this one character and we focus on just her, and the rest of the crew doesn't matter? It's also sloppily written.

Now extra note: my MOM says Dis gets good by season 3. And I am inclined to believe her, because she is a diehard trekkie, and a true trekkie knows, season 3 is like...always where a Star Trek show gets off the ground.

But again. I have to admit, I never got there.

And I don't know if you'd personally like it. Maybe, if you're a fan of the more..exciting space action sci fis. If you like mega gritty war stuff, and torturing aliens to make your warp drive go fast.

But in terms of places to start...? Again, not a bad place if older star trek seems dull.

Discovery certainly is modern and not dull.

Picard- the Cash Grab

Name: PIC

Do not start with Picard. You won't get much out of it if you haven't seen TNG. You won't get much out of it if you have seen TNG.

Pros: It's good for...if you haven't seen Patrick Stewart play Picard in along time.

Cons: It's kind of terrible and messy. It also relies way too much on nostalgia and preexisting knowledge of TNG. So definitely do not bother with Picard as your first Star Trek.

Lower Decks: The Satirical Love Letter

Just called Lower Decks, I think.

Don't start here either, it is VERY dependent on you having seen every Star Trek ever. It's pretty good, but...it's satirical and to understand it well, you would've had to have seen the other Treks.

Strange New Worlds: the Fixer Upper

Shorthand: SNW

Pros: It's the only modern Star Trek that actually seems fond of the original Star Treks, while also being pretty decent just on its own. It brings back the optimism, while maintaining the high quality CGI. Its interpersonal relationships aren't bad. The overarching plot is only somewhat important, and it goes back to form, on that whole episodic thing. If you were allergic to bad rubber alien masks, and wanted to watch something from this era, SNW is the best place to start.

Cons: It might bore you a little if you weren't already a diehard Trekkie. It does depend a little bit on you knowing preexisting properties, just so far as the little wink wink, nudge nudges. It's also a little weird in that the crew doesn't quite live up to the fleshed out nuances of DS9, nor does it rise to the intelligence of TNG's plots.

So there you have it!

This took me almost two hours to write!

I don't know why I wrote it.

Something is wrong with me.

I love Star Trek.

Even the ones I criticized the most, I still like most of them.

I fully accept the Star Trek fandom's wrath too.

I know some people are bigger fans of the other Treks.

But this is my opinion, you know?

Which means I'm right, and everyone else is wrong.

#star trek #tng #voy #ds9 #ent #tos #picard #lower decks

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jojotichakorn · 4 months

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ask game - top five favourite female characters :3

ok so we collectively decided that i will do top five from dramas and then top five from other forms of media, so this is gonna be a long post 😌

top five favourite female characters from dramas

number one. koh ae ri from the eighth sense

she is for real one of my favourite secondary characters of all time. she is so funny and i absolutely love the way she teases her friends, bullying IS a love language yes. i also love how confident and slightly over-the-top she is, she can really stand up for herself and other people as well, which is an admirable quality. also, i am side-eyeing her and her bestie. 🫵🏳️‍🌈⁉️ ykwim

number two. ink from bad buddy

we all know what i think about bad buddy but that doesn't mean there aren't any characters in that series who i still cherish, and ink is definitely one of them! i feel like everything in the world has already been said about her and i don't even have to explain myself. we all love her.

number three. hashimoto mio from kieta hatsukoi

she is an icon, she is a legend, etc. etc. she is so so sweet and wonderful but can also hit you across the face so hard that you fly away if you deserve it. i don't even think that's like dramatic effect exaggeration, she will kick your ass if you're acting like a fucking idiot and i love that about her.

number four. choi yu na from semantic error

true bicon of our generation. greatest fashion sense in the world. so very tired of your bullshit (and that's absolutely fair). a great friend. *bows fifty times in respect*

number five. sunny from our dating sim

she doesn't get too much screen time but i love everything about what we see of her. she is very no-nonsense and deadpan, but also very emotionally intelligent and compassionate (she literally helps lee wan figure out why he started drawing and why it's still important to him, like she literally changes his life with one small conversation). what a legend.

top five favourite female characters from other media

number one. brienne of tarth from game of thrones (tv show)

ok yeah yeah horrible tv show. ANYWAY. i am fucking obsessed with brienne. she is SO!!!! KDGJDFJGDFJGKDF. sorry. what am i even supposed to say. she is a warrior both metaphorically and literally. she is the most knight-coded character of all time. no man can compare to her in knightly qualities. she is noble, she is loyal, she is fair. she is fucking iconic.

number two. clementine from the walking dead games (video game series)

i grew up with clem, actually. i was just a couple of years older than her when i first watched a playthrough of twdg. i suppose we have to make some space for the fact that she is a protagonist in 2.5/4 games, meaning that every player kind of decides what kind of a person she is on their own. but i think overall, no matter what choices you make, she always remains a very strong and resilient person. despite everything she's lost, she doesn't lose her humanity and manages to take great care of her found family (and her adopted younger brother, shout out to our murder baby aj <3). i am very proud of her, almost like she is a literal person who grew up in front of my eyes.

number three. lae'zel from baldur's gate 3 (video game)

ok, now this one was hard. not because i don't love lae'zel so much, but because there is an insanely long list of female characters from bg3 that i absolutely adore, and choosing just one was hard. in lae'zel's place, there could have been shadowheart or karlach or jaheira or either isobel or aylin from everyone's favourite divine lesbian duo or nine-fingers or or or. i can go on forever. but i picked lae'zel for this post. so, first thing you should know about her is that she can step on you and you will be thanking her for it if she does. she is just 21 years old, yet she goes through a completely worldview-shattering experience and comes out the other side not just alive, but with her head held high. her quote "what good this heart of stone, for it to be shattered?" absolutely kills me every time. i'm gonna stop here, but i could go on forever actually yes.

number four. josephine montilyet from dragon age inquisition (video game)

very similar situation with the dragon age games and the amount of characters i could choose. morrigan, isabela, and sera in particular were very strong contenders for this space. but i ended up choosing josie for this post. she is a very sweet and romantic character. she used to be a spy (and she actually got into it because she thought it sounded romantic - she's whimsical like that), but then she ended up killing someone she knew and that experience changed her forever. she is now a very successful diplomat, determined to deal with world's problems through any means other than violence. she is very open-minded, understanding, and just an absolutely lovely person overall.

number five. anne elliot from persuasion by jane austen (novel)

choosing a favourite jane austen herione is like choosing a favourite child, but here we are. the photos are from two different adaptations, and i appreciate both of them in different ways, though i don't think we have a 10/10 adaptation of persuasion just yet. anyway, anne is naturally a rather timid and people-pleasing person, which i think a lot of us can relate to, but throughout the book she really finds her own voice and stands her ground, while simultaneously not having to completely change her personality, which i really appreciate. not everyone can be sarcastic or witty or strong-willed and that's ok. she also definitely shines as the undeniably smartest austen herione, as she figures out all the secrets, decidedly does not trust clearly untrustworthy albeit charming gentlemen, and is overall incredibly sensible, which means it's very easy to read her inner dialogue, because you never find yourself sighing at how blind she is at something that's happening. she sees everything. being inside her head is a great time.

#this is very rambly but you know kgjdflkjkfdlg #also can u tell im a gaymer lmao #archer responds #dee tag

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jedimaesteryoda · 1 year

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Ser Tywin was but twenty, the youngest man ever to serve as Hand, but the manner in which he had dealt with the rising of the Reynes and Tarbecks had made him well respected, even feared, throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

-WOIAF, The Westerlands

Tywin built his reputation on the destruction of Houses Reyne and Tarbeck. The Reynes were the most powerful bannermen to the Lannisters, and by Ellyn’s times, the Reyne-Tarbeck alliance sought to supplant their overlords. Tywin crushed them on behalf of House Lannister as well as for personal reasons. Tywin would then go on to enact similar ambitions in trying to marry is daughter into his liege’s house, and then overthrow them when that fell through, making his daughter a queen, doing successfully what the Reynes tried and failed to do.

Tywald Lannister had long been betrothed to the Red Lion's spirited young sister, Lady Ellyn. This strong-willed and hot-tempered maiden, who had for years anticipated becoming the Lady of Casterly Rock, was unwilling to forsake that dream.

. . .

Ellyn Reyne was accused of bedding Tytos Lannister, urging him to set aside his wife and marry her instead.

. . .

Old, rich, and powerful, the Reynes had prospered greatly from Lord Tytos's misrule. Roger Reyne, the Red Lion, was widely feared for his skill at arms; many considered him the deadliest sword in the westerlands. His brother, Ser Reynard, was as charming and cunning as Ser Roger was swift and strong.

-WOIAF, The Westerlands

Tywin for all his hatred of House Reyne, managed to find himself siring another generation of Reynes with his own children: the eldest son who is a prodigious warrior with a hot temper, the second son who isn’t noted for his martial prowess, but his cunning as a political operator, and the “strong-willed and hot-tempered,” ambitious daughter leading the trio who uses seduction to achieve her political ambitions and seeks to become the head of state.

Robert Baratheon, like Tytos Lannister, proved to be a poor ruler who had gone to seed, avoiding dealing with problems and affairs of state with the Lannisters taking advantage of his negligence and expanding their power and influence at court.

Ellyn of House Reyne became the Lady of Casterly Rock in all but name. As her good-father retreated to his books and his bedchamber, Lady Ellyn held a splendid court, staging a series of magnificent tourneys and balls and filling the Rock with artists, mummers, musicians...and Reynes. Her brothers Roger and Reynard were ever at her side, and offices, honors, and lands were showered upon them, and upon her uncles, cousins, and nephews and nieces as well.

-WOIAF, The Westerlands

Cersei upon becoming Queen Regent and Tywin became Hand again, proceeded to shower their family with offices, honors and lands. Cersei promoted Jaime to Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, kicking Barristan out. Tywin gave Riverrun to his good-brother Emmon Frey, Darry to his nephew Lancel and intended to give Winterfell to his son Tyrion.

Within the fortnight, Ellyn Reyne was wed to Walderan Tarbeck, Lord of Tarbeck Hall, the florid fifty-five-year-old widowed lord of an ancient, honorable, but impoverished house.

Lord Walderan Tarbeck, Ellyn’s husband, is described as on old man with the same house colors (blue and silver) as House Frey who allies with the rebellious house with a lion sigil. The Freys are a foil to Tarbecks where in place of “ancient, honorable but impoverished” are relatively new, treacherous, and one of the richest and most powerful houses in the riverlands. Walder Frey chose to ally with the Lannisters to rebel against his overlords King Robb Stark and Lord Edmure Tully, and is now effectively the de facto Lord Paramount of the Trident and when Littlefinger dies, Cersei may make it de jure.

However, the Reynes for all their faults were still united in their cause while Tywin’s authoritarian and abusive style of ruling over his family resulted in factionalism and ultimately, an intrahouse civil war. Cersei being abusive in her relationships, isolates both her most able brother, Tyrion, resulting him going over to their house’s former liege lords, the Targaryens, and Jaime, with him wanting to remove her. That is without saying that she is driving her house into the ground, wrecking Lannister’s support. Walder violated guest right, making his house universally hated, especially among his neighbors and in a bad spot when things inevitably go south for the Lannisters. His style not being that different from Tywin’s, combined with his numerous brood, created a situation where factionalism and an intrahouse civil war are inevitable.

The Reyne-Tarbeck coalition was undone by the son of their overlord, Tywin, as he crushed both houses. The daughter of their late Targaryen monarch, Daenerys, comes to put an end to House Lannister’s schemes, and Lady Stoneheart, the daughter of Walder’s late overlord Hoster Tully, enacts vengeance on his house. Assisting the former is as Genna put it “Tywin’s son” in every sense, Tyrion who like his father before is itching for payback for a lifetime of slights and abuse against him.

The ambitions of the Reynes and Tarbecks resulted in their destruction and their lines extinguished. House Lannister and Frey at first seem to have succeeded where the Reynes and Tarbecks seemed to fail, but their summer shall be short-lived as winter has come. Their sins of greed, pride and wrath shall be answered with their works going up in flames.

#asoiaf #house lannister #rains of castamere #tywin #house frey #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #tyrion lannister #walder frey

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dee-writes-smut · 1 year

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SANCTUARY NO MORE

(If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, what is posted of the series can be found here Broken Hearts Series)

“Get up,” I growl, forcing the barrel of my gun harder into the intruder's head.

“Fuck you!” The man spits, a splash of blood landing on the floor and my boot.

“Okay, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I hum, pulling the trigger and releasing a shot into the man’s head, brain matter exploding everywhere, chunks splattering across my black turtleneck and faded sage cargo pants. “God damn it! This shirt is new you fucking asshole,” I grumble, wiping my hands across my top as I straighten from my bent-over position, grabbing my backpack from the floor and shoving my unused leather gloves into one of the side pockets. I sigh as I grab the rest of my things; strapping the pistol I used to blast douche canoes head off into my utility belt, slinging my rifle on my back with my backpack, picking up my quiver and slinging it on the other shoulder, stuffing my thin jacket into the strap of my bag, tightening the straps, and holding my bow in my hand. Once cataloging all my things, I make my way out of the abandoned bar, irritated that I couldn’t stop for a moment to enjoy a good, aged, drink before having to continue my trek back home. I’ve been out scavenging/hunting for a good two weeks now, and it is time for me to return before Amir gets too antsy and decides to do something stupid like go looking for me, his totally capable fifty-four-year-old mother. That is right, I’m fifty-four and I am still rocking a hot bod with a wicked six-pack, but that’s what the apocalypse will do to you, well that and the loss of the love of your life to your infected coo-coo neighbor, but who’s really keeping track of that, certainly not me. The walk back to the cabin is long and quiet, too quiet, but once I start the trek down the massive hill where home lies, I can feel the tightness in my chest start to finally ease. The roof is severely engrossed with moss from the dense surrounding trees the entire cottage, all the windows are haphazardly boarded up, and the grass along the hill and around the cottage is so tall I can barely see where I am going, but eventually, I get there and let out a breath in relief as I tug the old, stubborn door open. “Amir!” I call as I throw the things weighing down my back onto the floor, but when I don’t receive a response from my son, I immediately tense, my spine going as rigid as a steel rod and my blood going ice cold. I immediately reach for the pistol on my hip and hold it strong and steady as I slowly walk around furniture and other random obstacles. Once I reach the living room I immediately freeze in my spot. Amir is smiling, comfortably relaxing in one of the leather chairs talking to a random teenage girl I have never seen in my life while a man about my age or even older points a gun at his head, a menacing look on his face. “Amir!” I gasped, pointing my weapon at the man threatening to kill my only source of joy left in this disgusting world. “What are you doing?! Who are these people?”

“Mom, it's okay, you can put the gun down,” Amir calmly states, standing from the chair with his arms reassuringly reaching out towards me like I am some fucking crazy person, which isn’t entirely wrong, but still.

“What do you mean? There are strangers in our house! Why on gods green fucking Earth would I ever put my gun down when this man is pointing his gun at your head!” I shout in disbelief, flabbergasted by his nonchalance at the situation.

“See,” Amir sighs, looking towards the young girl in the chair, “I told you she wouldn’t like this.” He sighs almost like me being a good-ass mother is a burden to him.

“Ma’am,” The girl speaks up confidently. “My name is Ellie, and this here is Joel, sorry for his attitude, he’s not really good with people,” she sighs, also seemingly annoyed with her father.

“Ellie!” Joel growls, clearly just as uncomfortable with this entire situation just about as much as I am.

“What? It’s true!”

“Can someone please explain what the fuck is going on right now?!” I burst out, flicking the safety off of my gun and steading my arms.

“Jesus Christ mom!” Amir scolds, rushing to my side and trying to remove the gun from my grasp.

“Damn A, your mom is hot!” Ellie jokes(?), fanning herself as she stands next to Joel who glares at her, his gun now pointed at me. “Anyways,” Ellie trails off, “We accidentally stumbled upon your beautiful home while looking for some water, we’re trying to figure out the fastest way to Kansas City and Amir here said you guys used to live there and could give us a hand. It took a lot of coercing on our part to get Joel on board, but considering I have only been in a car like twice now, we need some help.”

“So what? You want us to show you to Kansas? That’s it?” I ask, skeptical.

“That is it.” Ellie smiles.

“I call bullshit. How can I trust that’s all you want?” I ask, glaring at Joel.

“Well, we have been staying at your house for like three days now so I’d say that’s a pretty good show of trust.”

“Amir! You let them stay here that long?!” I gasp, flicking my head to glare at my son.

“Sorry?” He shrugs his big shoulders, but the look on his face makes it known that he has little remorse for his choice. “They're good people Mom. Promise.” I let out a long breath, annoyed, irritated, and untrusting of these people, but the girl has a point and there really is no harm in leading them in the right direction to wherever they are wanting to go.

“Fine, but if you so much as try anything I will rip your balls off and shove them so far down your throat they pop out your ass,” I growl, glaring at Joel while Amir and Ellie stare at me in shock. Joel shows no effect to my threat but does holster his weapon, and out of mutual agreement, I lower mine. “Go get your stuff, buck,” I tell Amir before walking towards the kitchen to regather my own things and to take a moment to process whatever the hell just happened. How did a twenty-year-old and a fourteen looking-year-old convince me to escort people I don’t know to a city that is a good distance from my home, the answer is I am not sure, but I know if I don’t go then Amir will and he will be on his own and vulnerable, and I just can’t allow that.

“Hey,” the young girl- Ellie- says softly, setting a hand on my shoulder that makes me tense with my back to her. “I know that this must be really hard for you, letting two people you don’t even know on a first-name basis into your home and your life, but I promise you that we have no intention of hurting either of you.”

“I’ve heard that before,” I respond darkly as I roughly grab the remaining ammo and arrows from the molded, sagging brown countertop and shrug her hand off my shoulder so I can leave the kitchen. I angrily finish repacking my bag before throwing all my gear back onto my back so I can leave the house. Once outside, I take a seat on the swinging chair that’s attached to the overgrown porch and close my eyes as I wait for the rest of them to gather their things. Taking a deep breath, I allow myself to find calm and peace in the melodic sounds around me, from the light breeze along my skin to the sound of a few birds chirping high up in the canopies above, I find my serenity, my center in the nature around me and continue to breathe, focusing on making a mental path to the edge of the city. I haven’t been back there since Ty, which is the majority of the reason I’m upset about this spontaneous trip. After losing half of my world and then having to fight like hell for twenty years to raise a newborn, the other half of my world, in this hell hole, it just seemed impossible to ever go back there, and it still does. A part of myself was lost that day, ripped from my chest with a dirty, jagged blade, and I haven’t seem to have ever gotten it back which leaves me with an emptiness inside of my soul that leaves me feeling lost, helpless.

“Ah don’t lak this either y’know,” A rough, southern voice comes from the opposite end of the porch and startles me out of my thoughts.

“Good on you then,” I snap, irritated

“You lost someone,” He responds, sounding rough and far off himself.

“That’s none of your fucking business if I did or not,” I growl in response, feeling exposed by his sudden appeal to talking.

“No, it is.” He pauses, letting the words settle before continuing. “It is because everyone lost someone that day, and the days after. I sure as hell did,” he continues, ignoring my past comment and even shutting my endless stream of sass as well. I’m stunned in silence, flabbergasted by his willingness to share that, his vulnerability.

“Okay and what if I did,” I answer halfheartedly, but my mind is going a thousand miles a minute with questions.

“We all losta piece of ourselves that day took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t just me, but everyone else too.”

“What does that have anything to do with me helping you?” I scoff, but really I’m intrigued.

“I just wanted yah to know that yah’re not alone.” He shrugs, becoming nonchalant with the conversation and giving up on saying anymore. Just as I am about to respond, the kids come bursting through the front door, laughing loudly, and both Joel and I shush them, then glare at one another for sharing the same brain wave as if either of us has control over that. “Let's go.” I huff before starting off back towards the main road, and away from our small sanctuary.

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loominggaia · 8 months

Text

...“Combatants, to your marks…aaand go!” called Lukas. The crew began to cheer, but the combatants didn’t charge each other right away. Instead, Isaac bounced around on his feet and offered a warning. “Are you ready to scrap, old man? You might break a hip!” he teased. “I am ready when you are, my little friend,” Mr. Ocean told him, standing casually in place. “Okay,” Isaac said slowly, crouching to telegraph his charge ahead of time, “here I come!” The boy was confident he had this match in the bag–so confident that he felt guilty for even agreeing to compete. But this was his captain’s command, so he obeyed and bolted towards the ancient cecaelia with the bamboo stick raised high. The stick stopped short of its target as Mr. Ocean seized Isaac’s wrist with one of his tentacles. Their crewmen hooted and hollered around them, their noise escalating as another tentacle wrapped around Isaac’s ankle and lifted him off the ground. Isaac dangled upside-down before his opponent, squirming helplessly in his grip while a third tentacle wrapped around his other wrist, and a fourth found his free leg. Once all the human’s limbs were bound, Mr. Ocean flipped him over and pinned him belly-up in the dirt. “He’s like a million years old, Izzy, he can’t be that strong!” shouted Javaan. Isaac tried with all his might, growling and squirming, but no matter which way he tried to pull himself, the tentacles pulled him back. The stick was clutched in his fist, so close to its target but unable to strike, for a tentacle had wrapped itself tightly around his wrist and fingers. The rest of Mr. Ocean’s body hadn’t moved an inch since the match began. He stood calmly above his opponent, arms dangling loosely at his sides while his tentacles did all the work. Lukas hollered angrily, “God damn it, Isaac! I’ll be down fifty bucks if you don’t get your act together and smack that decrepit old geezer! Get your ass up right now!” “Trust me, I’m trying!” the young man replied through gnashed teeth, but it was no use. He turned to his opponent and panted, “If you think you won, you’re wrong, ‘cause I’ll just keep fighting and fighting! You’ll wear out eventually! You’re gonna be sore in the morning if you keep this up, I’m warning you! Let me go, man! Come on, aren’t you late for bingo or something?” Mr. Ocean stepped forward and squatted over his body in a comfortable position, resting his elbows upon his knees. He propped his cheek on his palm and smiled at Isaac, telling him, “I’m retired, my friend. I have all day to spare…and I’d be delighted to spend it with you! Have I ever told you about the time I was captured by pirates? It was two hundred years ago–or perhaps four hundred? Hm, maybe even six hundred now, I can’t recall. Anyhow, there I was, sailing along the coast of Serkel–or maybe it was Noalen. No…Wokina, perhaps…?” “Oh, God, fine! I forfeit! I forfeit!” Isaac surrendered desperately. At last, he felt the tentacles loosen around his limbs and he scrambled back to his feet. “Isaac’s out! Well done, Mr. Ocean!” Evan chuckled, “Looks like you still have some fight left in you after all, you old sea-dog!” Lukas angrily slapped two 25GP coins into Glenvar’s hand. Then he turned to Isaac, who had just climbed out of the pit, and scolded him, “You lazy little quitter! I ought to whup you stupid for that crap!”

-Excerpt from an upcoming Looming Gaia story. Isaac vs. Mr. Ocean in the training pit.

I love this scene. Isaac's so ready to throw down and Ocean just old mans him into submission immediately lmao

Mr. Ocean:

Isaac: OMG HAVE MERCY PLEASE

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

#looming gaia #literature #funstuff

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syms-things-5 · 1 year

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I posted 576 times in 2022

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Case Histories - Chapter Nine

An AU Andy Barber fic (based on BBC’s ‘The Split’)

Previous Chapter Here / Masterlist Here

Series Synopsis: A talented small-town family lawyer, Grace Atherton, gets the opportunity of a lifetime when she is offered a job at prestigious Boston law firm, Rothman and Hale. She decides to give up the relative comfort and ease of her current working situation in favour of following a dream she’s had since she was a young law grad, to the detriment of her family life and marriage. She soon comes into contact with old mentor and one-time flame, Andy Barber. As gifted as he is handsome, it becomes clear he’s been keeping an eye on her burgeoning career from afar. Just how much will this decision cost her?

Chapter Warnings: 18+ NSFW, strong language, angst, emotional stress

CHAPTER NINE

No matter how resilient she was, or at least pretended to be on the outside, Grace had a habit of letting some clients get to her. It didn’t matter that she had a success rate that would make a lawyer twice her age jealous, or even that she was a member of Rothmans to begin with, an agency renowned for its integrity, but passive aggressive comments from people like Nathaniel fucking Parker still got to her.

“He’s always been a dick.” Evie muttered under her breath as she sided up to Grace in the kitchen. “Literally from birth. I think that’s why he got sent to that private school? I remember him making Lydia cry last year over a single coffee, if you can believe that. He’s just rude and patronising and a jerk.”

Evie took great delight in letting off that steam, almost like she had been holding it in for all of this time and only now had the option - and relative safety of speaking to Grace - to fully release the force of her opinions of the man in question. Honestly, she could have kept going. She had no time for people who spoke down to her or any of the other staff she worked with. She especially had no time for the people who did while seeming to forget whose help they were after when they found themselves in the Rothman building in the first place.

“What was he doing here last year?” Grace asked, keeping one eye on Mr Parker through the glass window of the boardroom so as to possibly aim her pen at his head if he happened to walk by.

“It was something to do with his inheritance, I think. He doesn’t speak to any of his siblings anymore except through lawyers so it got really rough at one point. I had to take the minutes but I switched off after a while. Rich kids can be so basic.”

“Huh, you’re not wrong.” Grace rolled her eyes in agreement.

Nathaniel Parker was the stereotypical, arrogant trust-fund child. His father had been the heir to a steel company in Ontario but later sold his shares to buy into a successful modelling agency in New York, as one does. It was there he met Sandra, a promising model, who was just twenty-one years old to his fifty-eight. He quickly divorced his first wife, mother of his first two children, and promptly had four more kids with Sandra within that same decade. Parker Senior had been nearly 70 years of age by the time the final one came along.

Nathaniel was the oldest of the four and had inherited 45% of said agency three years ago at the tender age of just 23. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t mean he owned 45% of the models and so, three lawsuits later, he found himself nearly $20million lighter. There was also a fraudulent crypto-currency deal lingering somewhere in the background but the Feds were already looking into that one.

Jack had wanted nothing to do with him but Charles Rothman had been an old Tennis pal of Parker’s uncle and he had asked Jack personally to try and minimise the public fallout from Nathaniel’s “behaviour”.

Jack hated people like Nathaniel Parker. To him, Nathaniel was someone coasting on his name and other people’s hard work, then believing they had a God-given right to whatever it was they wanted. He didn’t much want to be involved with Nathaniel the first time he breezed through their front doors, before they even knew of his reputation, and he certainly didn’t want to be involved with him now that he knew exactly what kind of man he was; “man” proving to be a rather generous term.

As frustrating as it had been for him to do so, Jack reluctantly removed female involvement from the subsequent cases. He just didn’t want to make any one of his team feel uncomfortable in Parker’s presence and, truthfully, the team had been glad of that decision. The sooner Parker vacated the building, the sooner they could all move on with their lives.

Grace was staggered by just how much his reputation apparently preceded him, and she would be glad if she never saw his name written in the diary ever again.

“You OK?”

Grace looked up to find Andy leaning against the door frame, concern etched across his face as his fingers absent-mindedly clicked at the pen in his hand.

“Yeh, I’m fine.” She smiles, shrugging it off.

He knew what it was that had got her back up but he didn’t say so straight away. He would have said something to Nathaniel Parker himself but he couldn’t walk down the corridor in front of the boardroom where he was sat without spitting fire through his nostrils. Piece of shit.

He pushed himself off the door and made his way towards her, where she was standing in anticipation of the coffee machine to finish frothing up the milk for her cappuccino. The chocolate sprinkles were poised and ready to go, most likely straight into her mouth if Andy hadn’t been standing right there as a potential witness to her slightly odd food habits. She always seemed to crave sweet things when she was feeling stressed out.

“Nothing quite says ‘I’m fine’ like four cups of the strongest coffee we have. What is this, Columbian?” He holds up the jar and squints a little at the label. “Jack usually hides this stuff from us mere mortals.”

“You need to get your eyes tested. And it’s not been four, it’s only been…” She mentally calculates the number of espresso shots she’s inhaled so far today. “Yeh, OK, you’re probably right.”

Andy grabs a cup from the shelf behind the machine and places it next to hers, expectantly. She looks at the cup and then at him before laughing out loud.

“I’m not sharing my milk with you.”

“I don’t want your milk.” He pretends to be affronted but doesn’t get very far before she starts laughing again and he thinks – hopes - he’s made a small difference to her day. “I like it black at this time of the day. I actually fancy something stronger to tell you the truth.”

“Christ, what’s happened to your day?” she asks.

“There’s only so many percentages I can take in the space of a couple of hours, Gracie.” He says, matter-of-factly. “I sometimes wonder if I would have been better off studying maths.”

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37 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

Touch & Go - Chapter Eleven

Previous Chapter Here

Series Summary: Ten months after leaving Boston, Sarah’s starting over again in Nashua. A new apartment, a new hospital, and closer to her parents, she’s finally finding some peace following her ill-advised affair with her best friend’s brother. But Sarah should have known it would only be a matter of time before the past catches up with her.

Warnings: 18+ language, sexually suggestive language

Tags (please let me know if I have missed you): @bookwormchick91 @redhairedfeistynerd @memoriesat30 @ppal3 @patzammit @before-we-get-started

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sarah was starting to understand the power in telling someone you love them. Chris had certainly made sure she knew that. If he wasn’t curling himself around her at night in the comfort of her bed, he was sneaking behind her in the shower and risking her hitherto unbroken record for punctuality. One second, he was being cute and asking her about her day, the next he was making her lose her breath with a new, unfamiliar pleasure.

“Sarah?”

“Huh?”

“The canular?”

“Oh right, yes, of course.”

She unclips the water solution and replaces it with a new bag. Carefully reconnecting it to the canular they had just spend ten minutes trying to insert into the elderly gentleman’s hand, she waits for a second until the first drips start appearing in the tube before hanging it back onto the mobile.

“You OK?” Rosie asks as they both depart the man’s private room.

“Yeh, I’m fine. Sorry about that back there. Just…a bit tired today is all.” Sarah stifles a convenient yawn in the process.

“Hmm yeh I can tell.” Maria elbows her playfully and Sarah chuckles. “If you wanna get a coffee after work, gimme a shout.”

Sarah smiles and nods as Maria walks off in the opposite direction leaving her and Rosie to head back to the equipment room. Sarah didn’t know Rosie all that well, in fact she thought she might not have liked her all that much when she first joined the hospital. Then, after Noah’s death, Rosie was, surprisingly, the first member of the department to reach out to her. From then on, they’d become quite good friends. “Good” in the sense that they were both a part of this unfortunate club.

“Have you spoken to your mom today?” Rosie asks, reaching for the stock pad that had been placed rather unhelpfully on the stop shelf. Sarah was 5ft 9 and even she struggled when reaching her arms up.

“Yeh, we caught up this morning on my way in.” Sarah replies. “Thanks for that recommendation by the way. Never thought I’d see the day she got into organised exercise.”

“You’re welcome. It was a huge help for my mom after…you know…” Rosie shrugged it off.

“Well, I do really appreciate it. I’m not the best at suggesting these kinds of things. I’m just glad she’s getting out of the house more and meeting people.”

“She has you, still. You’re not too far away.”

“I know. It’s just…” Sarah trails off for a moment before shaking her head from a particular thought. “She and my Dad were together practically all their lives and now it’s like she’s all on her own again. It’s really sad.”

Rosie stops what she’s doing and offers Sarah a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t. Please.” Sarah chuckles. “I’m gonna start crying again if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Well, bawl away. I still have my moments and it’s been seven years since my pop died.”

Sarah pondered that admission for a second. The very thing she worries about each night is obviously true and no matter how much she tries to avoid it, it’s not going to be any different for her. She suddenly felt older and no longer protected by the safe notion of still being someone’s child. It sucked.

Chris has been perched on the same stone step for the last hour or so.

“Ten minutes, my ass.” He mutters under his breath.

He had messaged Shanna earlier in the day to ask if she was likely to be around at some point that afternoon and whether she would be open to a visit from her charming and wonderful older brother. His words.

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39 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

Touch & Go - Chapter Fourteen (Finale)

Previous Chapter Here / Masterlist Here

Warnings: Strong and suggestive language

Tags: @ppal3 @bookwormchick91 @redhairedfeistynerd @memoriesat30 @patzammit @before-we-get-started

And so, here it is, the final chapter of this series. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all of your support; it kept me going when I nearly gave up a couple of times. I really, truly appreciate every single like, reblog, DM’d message and comment that you have given me over the past year or so, and I’m so happy you stuck with it and with me xxx

Chapter Fourteen

“You think we’re crazy, don’t you?”

Scott looks to the ceiling as he works his mind through a serious of responses that might give Chris the encouragement and support that he seemed to be looking for. It was nearly seven in the evening, the sun was low in the sky, and neither of them had the energy to get up and make some food.

“No, I think you’re in love although there isn’t much of a difference to be fair.” he muses. “So, how is this gonna play out exactly? What timeframe are you guys looking at?”

“Um…”

Chris didn’t have those answers. Neither he nor Sarah had thought much beyond the ‘oh wow how amazing is this going to be!?’ phase that comes along with deciding you’re going to move in with someone. There were nerves of course but that all seemed to ebb away as soon as they started thinking about what the future could hold for them both. The thought of picking out china patterns really did something to him apparently. In a good way.

It had been a few weeks since they had decided to take the plunge. Surprisingly, they had both found a quiet eagerness to tell most people despite them both initially agreeing to keep things quiet, at least just until they knew for sure that it was definitely happening. For Chris, though, “people” didn’t always include Scott so he ended up knowing almost straight away, and Sarah had found Audrey was just scarily prescient at guessing things, so she knew pretty soon afterwards as well. Chris was almost certain she and Scott were now talking to each other on a daily basis. His suspicions were confirmed when he spied Scott buying baby toys online.

They were met with a lot of different reactions, the majority of them positive, thankfully, or at least that was how Sarah had chosen to take them at the time. There were definite variations of surprise and shock and Seriously? You??

That had been Chris’ fault. He had always been vocal about wanting to remain in Massachusetts, so steadfast was he to maintaining some semblance of normality in the face of what he had chosen to pursue as a career. Also, he wasn’t exactly known for his commitment so he had to answer some tough questions about that as well. He really didn’t enjoy having this pointed out to him multiple times in the same 24-hour period either.

“But you hate everywhere else.” Was one such helpful comment curtesy of Brian, an old pal from high school who had just moved back to the area after a decade of living in Canada. “And there’s, like, other people there. People who you don’t know.”

“Is there a Dunkin’ nearby? ‘Cos you’re gonna be fuckin’ unbearable if there isn’t one.” Came Mark’s contribution.

It was so nice that his friends were thinking of the bigger picture, Chris thought to himself as he lay on his sofa, beer in hand, this Thursday evening. Scott had ventured over to borrow something but that had been forgotten about and it was now three hours later and they could both feel hangovers slowly coming on.

“They’re just guys, you know?” Scott offered. “It’s how they deal with stuff, like, joking around about it. They’ll probably miss you once you’re gone.”

“Probably?!”

“Obviously they will miss you, we all will, but it’s not like you’re moving to another country, or Alaska or some shit.”

“I know you’re right, it’s just…” He waved his hand above him to try and conjure up the right words but nothing came to mind. “I know they’re happy for me and everything, I just didn’t realise I was so predictable and mundane. Mom said I’m not spontaneous so she was surprised but I think I’m spontaneous, right? Scott? I’ve done impulsive shit before.”

“I don’t think buying a different brand of beer counts as impulsive. Buying a house in a different State? Yeh, I’d say you’ve definitely proven them wrong this time.”

“And,” Chris leans up, swinging his legs off the side of the sofa so he’s sitting upright. “I’m gonna do lots of spontaneous shit from now on. I’m gonna really surprise folks, make that my new thing. That’s gonna be my new opera.”

“Modus operandi?”

“Yes! That’s the shit. Definitely.” He pointed defiantly at Scott. “In fact, I’m gonna call Sarah right now and tell her.”

“Won’t that defeat the object?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna tell her so she can prepare herself.”

“Prepare herself for spontaneity? OK, cool, makes sense.”

Chris dismisses his brother with a wave of his hand and staggers off to the kitchen to grab his phone. He holds it tightly like he might drop it and squints at the numbers until they make sense so he can safely locate the profile for ‘Bernette’. Carefully, he presses the call button and sways unsteadily on his feet until, after a few rings, she answers.

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42 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

TO THE WIRE

A Chris Evans / Call of Duty AU Fic

My Masterlist can be found HERE, where this will be added.

Part One: It’s All In The Detail

Part Two: Where There’s smoke...

Note: Not sure where I’m going with this but I’ve been a fan of his C.O.D. look since I first saw it. Hopefully, this looks promising but rather than an ongoing series, I see it more as a series of one- or two-shots. Part One is below and Part Two will follow next Sunday following my final spot of editing.

Theme: Enemies to friends to (eventual) lovers. Chris has an ego and believes his own hype, and Martha needs to get a life for herself.

Warnings: Strong language

Word Count: 5.1k

Part One: It’s All In The Detail

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” came Martha’s exasperated response, hands gripped tightly onto her hips as she did her very best to attempt a more aggressive stance than she was altogether comfortable with. “Months of hard work and now it’s done, just like that?”

She wasn’t sure why she was even questioning it. She could believe it – and expect it – as it had been the case for her on more than one occasion over the last 12 months and she was getting tired of it. She was getting tired of being side-lined.

“I’m sorry. The decision has been made and it’s for your own safety.”

“But what could have possibly changed in the last twenty-four hours?”

It was a valid question and for a brief moment she felt a surge of confidence in her frustration.

Tanner, the shortish, greying intellectual currently sat behind the broad desk that separated them like a protective barrier, appeared resolute in his decision. Even if he had doubts, he wouldn’t let them show. His posture remained relaxed as he leaned back in his leather recliner having barely flinched or moved in the time since she had barged into his office, disappointment etched across her fine features, staring him down like he had just insulted her grandmother. Instead, he regarded her respectfully and with some semblance of understanding of her disappointment at being frozen out yet again from a mission she had worked very hard on. It made her feel a little guilty at her verbal outburst although he had probably heard much, much worse in his forty-plus years with the CIA. He himself had told her as much.

She wasn’t sure if this apparent show of empathy was a good or a bad thing. It certainly didn’t serve to make her feel any better. Deep down, she knew Tanner knew what he was doing. He always gave considered thought to the decisions he made; he wouldn’t be where he was now if he hadn’t. Even deeper down, she knew she wasn’t going to succeed in changing his mind.

“You know as well as I do that intel can change with no notice.” He explained calmly in his soft, Texan drawl. “It’s never ideal to change the format of a mission at any stage of the play but we do what we have to do with what we are given. The team has reason to believe that Haltzar is shifting gear and making a move to exit this Friday night. If we don’t get him then, our chances at ever bringing in Haltzar disappear in the dark, and his little black book goes with him.”

She could appreciate the nuances that went into a plan like this. In just eighteen months, Martha had gone from being a well-liked but rather inconsequential (her words) doctor at Newman & Grey Hospital, working all the shifts she could manage to avoid being home alone with only her thoughts for company, to a valued member of a CIA ‘Special Ops’ Unit that specialised in dealing with situations far beyond the capabilities of ordinary law enforcement. Or so she thought she was.

She listened to Tanner letting her down gently like she was being told she couldn’t have the bike she wanted for Christmas. She also couldn’t shake the feeling this was yet another attempt by Chris Evans to phase her out. She realised she appeared like she was throwing a tantrum because she couldn’t get her own way. It was embarrassing and it made her feel like shit. It wasn’t what she was aiming for when she woke up earlier that morning.

“Listen, Martha, this is in no way a reflection of your work but some people have expressed concern that your being there would draw unwanted attention-”

“-Some people? You mean Chris-”

“-Especially if a member of Haltzar’s crew recognises you from their own intel.” Tanner finished his argument, choosing to ignore hers. “We can’t forget they have been here a long time. They will have scoped the place out for themselves, several times, and if they see you at the hospital, the whole game is up and we’ll have lost nearly eighteen months of work for nothing. I’d like to see you try to explain that to Homeland Security.”

Martha paused in her tracks and tried to avoid Tanner’s careful, sympathetic gaze. Shaking her head in defeat, she loosened her hands from her hips and let them fall limply to her side as she took on board Tanner’s reasoning. Just as she was about to express an apology for her blatant lapse of professionalism in the face of a man who could probably buy and sell what was left of her own family, a lowly whistle came from somewhere close behind her.

Stood still in the corner of Tanner’s office, one boot resting on the panelled wall as though he gave not one care for the probable cost of having his dusty Size 12s scratch the paint off, Chris murmured his disapproval of Martha. She couldn’t quite bring herself to acknowledge his presence, though, preferring to leave him brooding quietly as she attempted to make her way out of the office unscathed.

Even now, after he had sullenly made himself known, she preferred not having to deal with the sight of his smug face at this time of the morning. She could sense him, though. You could always sense when Evans was nearby so it was a complete and utter joke that Tanner was now claiming that she might be the one who would draw attention.

“Well, I would probably call into question the reasons why some people might see me being there as a problem.” She stated matter-of-factly, the words coming out of her mouth before she had the time to edit them. Or stop them altogether as she was quickly wishing she could.

“I’m right here, McLachlan.” Came his bristly tone in response, clearly having had enough of her obstinance.

“Yes, I know, Chris. It’s very hard to miss you.” She snapped, finally conceding to him. All she got in return was a dismissive glare. It only served to wind her up even more.

“Then ask me directly.”

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52 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Black lives still matter.

332 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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dollycas · 9 months

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#FlashbackFriday - Anxious in Nevada (A Midlife Crisis Mystery) by Diana Xarissa #Review / #Giveaway @AuthorDXDunn

On Flashback Fridays I will share with you the books I was not able to review when they were first released that have been screaming at me from my To-Be-Read bookshelf.

Anxious in Nevada (A Midlife Crisis Mystery) Cozy Mystery 1st in Series Setting - Nevada Independently published (November 7, 2022) Paperback ‏ : ‎ 218 pages ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8355494834 Kindle ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0B917M1WJ

I’m Holly Parker, and on my fiftieth birthday, I decided that it was about time I stopped adding things to my bucket list and started trying to cross a few items off instead. Visiting all fifty states was at the top of the list. I just had to find a cheap flight to somewhere interesting. A low-cost, direct flight to Las Vegas was exactly what I needed. I didn’t waste my time overthinking it. I just booked the flight and packed my bags. After chatting with the couple in the seats next to mine on the flight, I was happy to arrive in Vegas and just go straight to bed. My body clock, not yet reset to Vegas time, had me awake and eager to explore very early the next morning. I’d barely finished my breakfast, though, before I stumbled over a dead body. What are the odds that the victim would turn out to be the man I’d sat next to on my flight? Why is his former fiancée suddenly trying to be my best friend? And how do I convince the local police that I had nothing to do with his murder? Dollycas's Thoughts 50-year-old Holly Parker has a long bucket list and she has finally decided to start checking items off of it. At the top of the list was visiting all 50 states so when she found a deal on a flight to Las Vegas along with a deal on a hotel she booked her trip. On her flight, the man next to her fell asleep but chatting with the woman next to him made the trip go pretty fast. She never thought that a chance meeting would lead to finding a dead body and being involved in a murder investigation. That was definitely not on her bucket list. Holly Parker is a strong independent woman taking control of her life. She is also way too nice. Her new "best friend" Christy is the fiancée of the deceased and looks to Holly to help her deal with the police, her grief, and her fiancée's family. That family is something else. This trip to Nevada was not in any way the vacation she imagined but she just couldn't get away from these people or being questioned by the police. The mystery was pretty straightforward but the interactions between the characters were hilarious. I felt so bad for Holly getting wrapped up with a family that was so dysfunctional but the author put humor in every place she could. The deceased mother was a terrible woman with her iron thumb on her family. You truly never knew what would happen next with her around. The setting of Las Vegas was fun. Holly was befriended by an employee of the casino, Peggy, who tried her best to get Holly out to have some fun on her vacation. Holly did have a small daily budget for gambling, she just needed to figure out how to do that. Peggy also took her to see some interesting sites and that led to Peggy getting involved with the bizarre family too. Anxious in Nevada was a delightfully lighthearted fast read with some crazy characters. I read the book all in one evening and enjoyed it very much. I love the mid-life crisis theme and look forward to reading more books in this series. It seems there are 49 future trips in Holly's future.

Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent About the Author Diana Xarissa has lived in several US states, the north of England, and the Isle of Man. While she is currently in the US, she still misses the stunning scenery, wonderful people, and fascinating history that make the Isle of Man so unique. Website - Twitter - GoodReads

Also written by Diana Xarissa

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#cozymystery #DianaXarissa #Nevada #selfpublished

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jayne-hecate-writer · 11 months

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Mountains... revisited

As a former climber, mountaineer and maniac for mountain sports, it was a joy to come back to the mountains once again, this time in a completely new way.

My dedication to mountain sports was prematurely stopped by illness and disability and so I sort of came to the conclusion that I would never see the mountains again. However, a strange series of events, the love of my friends and family and a determination to give it a shot, led to my return to the Snowdonia mountain range after a gap of twenty years. Obviously this came with a cost and that was in pain and suffering. My body has taken the hit surprisingly well, with only one minor meltdown and a complete failure to comply with my demands. However, this is why we have pain killers and comfortable beds.

The trip started with strapping my faithful friend, Sylvie my Suzuki SV650 to a trailer on the back of my car.

With some glorious company in the form my wife, her daughter and her daughter's girlfriend, we set off on an adventure. Well once all of the annoying mechanical problems had been fixed! We won't go into them here, but let us just say that my patience has been truly tested.

Our adventure took us to North Wales, a place that I loved with a lot of climbing passion back in my twenties and thirties. This year I turn fifty and to be honest I am not sure how I feel about this. I am clearly no spring chicken, but I resent the idea that I am old, I still have toys, albeit big shiny silver ones and I am still very silly with my toys.

Carol rode from our home in Somerset to Wales on her trusty Kawasaki ZRX1100, a true beautiful beast of a bike and Alice rode her Kawasaki GTR1400, a machine that is a mix of sports bike and comfy sofa. The ride up was fun, but the wind on the bridge across the Severn was terrifying. The poor little car felt like it was going to be thrown off at any time.

We arrived safely at a beautiful little farm and set up base camp in a converted grain store. The roof was hilariously low and sloping, but inside it had a basic luxury that was joyous. We unloaded Sylvie and prepared for the week ahead. Our first ride out was a gentle local ride, taking in my old play ground of Tremadog. I spent many happy (and some terrifying) moments on the climbs at Tremadog and enjoyed camping in the field behind Eric's Café. To my utter horror Eric's has gone, replaced by some modern, electronic self service, anti-climber hipster shit hole. With security cameras, huge warning signs and strict private property notices, it has become a hugely unwelcoming place and with a heavy heart we quickly left.

The following day was the big ride out, the trip to Snowdon itself. More correctly known as Yr Wyddfa, the mountain is the second highest in the UK, being around 1030 metres above sea level. I have spent many happy hours playing in this region, climbing some of the classic lines and basically living in the moment. To return on my motorbike with my beautiful family wiped away those frivolous memories and gave me new, happier and more peaceful ones.

The ride was glorious, the roads were hard work, but I loved every second of it, even when I got beyond exhausted and moved into migraine territory. The last ten miles was the hardest, most demanding motorcycle riding I have ever done due to how poorly I was feeling and there were moments when I simply had to grit my teeth and hope for the best as I twisted my throttle and went for an over take. Once back at the house, I boiled over into a grotty, shivering, crying mess and after swallowing incredibly strong painkillers, retired to bed.

I have no regrets, the riding was amazing, even though it caused me a lot of pain. Sylvie was faultless and my little family were beautiful. So despite the pain, I could not be happier. I no longer have this chasm of grief in my heart for the mountains. Instead, I have softer, kinder and happier memories of being truly at peace with myself in an environment that I truly love.

All photo's have been provided by my partner Carol, for which I am very grateful. A feature length Youtube video will no doubt follow soon given that both Carol and Alice are film makers of some talent. Until then, just know this. No matter what happens from now, in this moment, I am truly happy.

#motorcycles #disability #gothic music #lgbtq🌈#disabled riders #motorcycle holidays #suzuki motorcycle #suzuki sv650 #llanberis #mountaineering #disabled queer #peace #grief #disabled grief

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ridley-was-a-cat · 1 year

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What I Watched This Week – 4/30-5/6

Aim for the Ace! - When Discotek put this out on Blu-ray, I picked it up on principle, as I absolutely want licensors to make older shoujo more available. It is wildly dated, which makes sense, as it's literally fifty years old, but once I adjusted to the eye twinkles, sparkling sweat, and creative approach to animating the human body playing tennis, it was a perfectly enjoyable sports anime. It follows first-year high school student Hiromi, who joins the tennis club to be near her idol, Reika, only to get singled out by their new coach to be on the tournament team, leading to her getting bullied by everyone upset she replaced an older girl. The animation is rough, frankly. There was a lot of footage recycling and panning over or shaking still frames. The story of a weak, whiny girl growing into a confident, strong tennis player finding love and new friends along the way makes it all worth it, though. 7/10

Cardcaptor Sakura Movie 1 - This movie takes place some time in the middle of the main series' timeline, where Sakura wins a trip to Hong Kong and gets tied up in some magic user's nonsense along with Xiaolang, Tomoyo, and crew. I don't know if this was in the manga or something original, but it was a perfectly entertaining little side quest with the same good-quality art and animation as the TV series. 7/10

Cyber City Oedo 808 - I was excited to see that RetroCrush had updated its media player on their website, but then I noticed they had far fewer shows in the catalog than I remembered. This three-episode OVA was one of only a handful I was interested in. The story is about three convicted criminals offered a deal to get out of prison: If they work for the police to catch cybercriminals in a far-future Tokyo, they can earn credits to reduce their sentences and get the remote-controlled bomb collars off their necks. Each 45-minute episode focuses on one of the trio, with the others playing backup, which I thought was a good use of the episode count. So, the first episode is full of cheesy one-liners delivered with maximum smugness to suit the first character, the second episode is centered on hacking and a showdown with a military robot in line with the techie character, and the third episode is full of rose petals and a beautiful vampire for the effeminate character fond of stealth and poetry. It's a nicely animated cyberpunk series with a interesting setting and some fun action scenes. 7/10

Vampire in the Garden - Despite some amazingly bad vehicle animation, I enjoyed this five-episode series about a human girl and a vampire woman who go on the run together from their respective societies in search of a place where vampires and humans can live alongside one another. Aside from the vehicles, the character animation was solid, giving a lot of life to domestic scenes and a lot of energy to the action scenes. The beautiful winter landscapes were nice to look at as our main characters travelled through them, and they made the cities look appropriately gritty and bleak by comparison. I liked both main characters, and the way the two of them were shown to be completely done with their everyday lives made it easy to understand why they would go to such lengths to abscond with someone they'd only just met. Not the most uplifting show, but I enjoyed it for what it was. 7/10

#aim for the ace!#cardcaptor sakura #cyber city oedo 808 #vampire in the garden #shoujo #anime #old anime #backlist anime

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raspberry-rampage · 1 year

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tumblr 2022, huh

TOP 22: Glad to see so many things I recognise and like, like ST and TOH. Happy to see my boy Steve up there, though it’s probably thanks to him being shipped with a certain metalhead, but ships talk later. This was a weird year for me, got into many new fandoms (ER, TOH, ST among many), cooled down on old ones, but hey, still alive for more bullshit - and isn’t that the tumblr motto of life? More of my thoughts below.

anime and manga: So shocked (sarcasm) to see BNHA and SXF so high... Dunno, stopped caring about the first one so long ago and quickly got bored of the second one. Honestly, I'm not really in these fandoms anymore, I just don’t vibe with so many ongoing shows. Cheers to KNY being on the list though. And Witch Hat Atelier LET’S GOOOOOOO

anime and manga characters: Same as above, fell out of love with so many series... So funny to see Reigen up there. My boy Dabi is #10, fuck yeah, so much higher than his milquetoast little brother! Can’t believe Sasuke is top 15, that’s sound like a joke.

memes: I’m out of touch with memes, man. I only remember “live XYZ reaction”, the blorbo discourse, morbin’, and that fucking movie.

movies: I still haven’t seen No Way Home cause they’re not putting it on vod ugh. Glad to see Encanto on top, I think it deserves it (though I have mixed feelings about so much Disney on the list). LOTR being on the list made me so happy. And Do Revenge is #12! Very good, it’s a cool movie. And it’s fucking hilarious that American Psycho closes the fifty.

music: So happy to see The Amazing Devil on the list, their music is bomb. I also saw my beloved Florence on the list, as well as FOB, P!ATD and Zeppelin. nice :^)

ships: I don’t like By/ler, simply cause I don’t like Mike. Give Will a different boyfriend please. And ofc Ste/ddie and Ron/ance are there... Idk man, I prefer He/llche/er and Jan/ce. I know these are hetero and you may think I’m hom/opho/bic or some shit, but fuck you, I just don’t think those characters suit each other. Har/ringr/ove is still on the list, it’s such a nice minifandom so it fills my heart with joy. Honestly, the list has pretty much all the major ships of ST fandom. De/st/iel still going strong lol (have I mentioned I still haven’t watched this show?). Lumity FTW, ecstatic to see my girls so high. I’m not really big on Hu/nt/low, but maybe it’ll grow on me with S3. Surprised Ge/rask/ier is still so high, seeing as S2 was another fuck you to their relationship.

tv shows: No surprise that ST is top. Glad to see TOH and ATLA on the list. Surprising to see LOTR:ROP so low (or is it?). Another surprise was seeing She-ra on the list - don’t get me wrong, great show, but didn’t know the fandom was still alive, happy for them though.

video games: Colour me absolutely not surprised that I have no interest in the top 10 games that mainstream cares about. Good for Stray to be so high, need to watch a playthrough of it sometime. It’s so strange to see Skyrim on the list but no Elden Ring - they even used Ranni’s hat on the graphic. I think The Quarry is there mainly thanks to their big promos and stuff. It was a good game, not my cup of tea though. Ecstatic to see Bloodborne still going strong. A bit of a surprise to see RE8 still there, but maybe DLC livened up the fandom a bit. We’ll go crazy with RE4 remake in March, don’t worry.

video game characters: Oh yeah, let me see... Once again, disappointed with top 10. Didn’t know F/NA/F was so strong on tumblr. I can’t believe there’s so many Twis/ted Won/derl/and characters there. Not even Ranni or Malenia? Wtf??? I recognise almost nobody here, and like nobody at all. There’s only maybe 12 games between 50 characters, that is so weird. Wait, I just saw Sora made it, that’s fucking hilarious.

And about their ST post: I saw that cheeky dig at Billy, but can’t sense if it’s malicious or not. Also, they called Steve a dad. No, he’s a mum, get it right.

#personal #tumblr 2022 #riv rants

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

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You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!” you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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hotchnerxo · 2 years

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The chances you take: Chapter 3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader Summary: After a successful case, you still feel like you've failed. Words: 3k Warnings: CM case talk, mention of related violence. Hurt/Comfort A/N: Thank you so so much for everyone who’s already commented on the first two chapters, I’m so happy to see people excited about this story.

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Chapter 3: Even to the best of us

You had believed him. You had talked to the unsub, believed him and left.

The case was a rather short one, and located in DC. Variety of people were found dead within a week. All three victims had very different backgrounds: college student, a bank manager and divorced mom of three and a construction worker. The only connection between them was the way they died; suffocated.

Quickly the team was able to track down the victims’ movements and find a few connection points, such as bars, grocery stores and laundromats within a couple of blocks. The team and officers end up going door to door to businesses and shops as well as townhouses around the area. Asking about the victims and what was happening around the neighborhood.

You were on the other side of the street while Derek was on the other. At that moment, he was inside a coffee shop at the corner of the street. You had just knocked on the next door and met with a man in his early fifties and had a brief chat with him. The man seemed calm and relaxed, altho surprised by the visit from a federal agent. Who wouldn’t be? You showed him pictures of the victims, asking if he’d known them or seen anything. Just like a dozen people before him, he denied knowing anything about anything. He says he works remotely from home and rarely leaves the house. He even jokes about getting old and the pains it brings. After a few more questions, you thank him for his time and wish him a good day, before heading to the next door.

It takes 4 more hours for the team to get a crack on the case and find him. You’re sure every last bit of blood drained from your face once you saw his license photo on the screen of your tablet. You can still feel the way your heart sank down to your stomach as you’re on your way to arrest him and he’s been able to capture another victim. This one was a 23-year old barista from the coffee shop Derek had been in earlier that day. Hotch was able to talk down the unsub and the girl was left unharmed and the man captured.

The smile on the man’s face still haunts you “Great to see you again Agent (Y/L/N)” he grins as Hotchner drags him out in cuffs. He pushes him out the door before you get to even register his words.

It’s been about an hour since you returned back to the office. It’s starting to get late, most of the agents have already handed in their case reports to agent Hotchner and called it a day. But here you are, still staring at yours. It feels like the file is mocking you as it sits on your desk. Taunting you and it is getting under your skin. You’ve filled it to the best of your ability and knowledge, but it feels incomplete.

You feel like you’ve failed and like it should be put in that file somehow. Write down how you didn’t see it, even when the man was right in front of you. Your conscience is screaming at you, telling you how unqualified you are, how you don’t deserve this place among these incredible agents.

But instead of writing it down, you slam the file shut, grasp it in your hands and leap up the stairs leading to your supervisor’s office. With your free hand you knock on the ajar door, a bit harder than what you intended “Got a moment?” you peek your head inside, meeting Agent Hotchner’s eyes.

He puts his pen down to the desk “Of course” he says and gestures to you to take a seat in front of him. You’re getting flashbacks from your previous interview inside this office. At the same time, it feels like walking to the principal’s office to admit having done something wrong. But the guilt feels too strong inside you to not talk about it.

Hotch’s hands rest on the desk, fingers intertwined. He’s waiting for you to talk about your reasons for this visit, but as you seem to be far away in your head, he speaks gently “What’s on your mind?” He looks down on the file you have in your hands, resting on your lap. There must be a reason you haven’t yet handed it back to him. There’s something about it that’s bothering you.

“Have you, um…” you look down at your hands, not sure if you can look him in the eye. You can feel his attention on you. “Has anyone complained about me to you?” you rephrase your question, but it still doesn’t feel right. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, no matter how you try. You’re afraid you’ll see disappointment in them. Maybe regret, even.

“Not in the slightest” he says, puzzled about what is making you feel this way. “Has something happened?”

You’re not sure where to begin and the lighting inside his room feels like it’s burning your skin all of the sudden. Or it’s just your nerves, tingling around your body, trying to keep you alert. “I feel like I failed today” your voice comes out as a whisper and you lift your head enough, to get a glimpse of the look on your supervisor.

His brow is in deep furrow as he listens to you, waiting for you to continue. A few strands of his dark hair have fallen on his forehead after a long day of work. His rough features look ever harsher in the office lighting and you can tell he hasn’t been getting much rest during the week. But he doesn’t look threatening or mad. He’s composed and calm, as if he’s assessing the situation to the best of his abilities.

You’ve admired him for who knows how long and you’re terrified of letting him down already. You wish you could have lived up to his standards and expectations, but clearly you’re not talented enough. “I talked with him today, Hotch” you try to explain, but your voice gets stuck in your throat.

This is very far from professional.

He still doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want to interrupt your train of thought or make you feel pressured. He’s giving you all the time you need to compose yourself and explain the situation.

“The unsub. I talked with him” you raise your head to now fully look up to him, tears starting to well up in your eyes. “I talked with him and I walked away. I believed him”.

Agent Hotchner leans back to his chair as he’s coming to an understanding of the situation. His hands fall down to his lap. There’s something soft in the way he looks at you. A warmth you’ve catched a glimpse of before, but never up this close.

Maybe he’s just good at hiding his disappointment.

“I failed, Hotch” your voice starts to tremble, but you’re not able to control it anymore “I’m so sorry. I’ve let the team down, I should have seen through his lies. I should have paid more attention. He had a chance to get another victim because I couldn’t do my job”. Once you get your words out, apology after another falls from your lips.

After a moment, your words die down into small sniffles. You try to calm yourself down and get over your embarrassment. You did not expect to be crying in your boss’ office tonight and you’re sure you’ve made even a bigger fool of yourself in his eyes.

You take a couple of calming, deep breaths. Your hand wipes away the fallen tears on your cheeks and you can hear your heartbeat in your own head; it’s so quiet in the office. With a small shake of your head, you try to get rid of the remaining nerves. “I’m so sorry I bothered you, it–” you apologize one more time and about to excuse yourself from his office. As you’re about to stand up, Hotch’s deep voice interrupts you and you fall back down to the chair.

“Okay, first of all, you haven’t failed” his voice is stern and you’re not sure if he’s about to comfort you or lecture you. He’s so damn hard to read. “Nothing in our profile pointed towards him living in the middle of his hunting ground. We had no reason to believe that any of you would actually run into the UnSub during that time” he leans back forward, the desk supporting his arms.

But he is right. According to the profile, the UnSub would most likely live outside that neighborhood, to steer away the investigation from his house. You weren’t expecting to run up to him and talk with him. You were only there to hopefully find a witness at best.

“You had no reason not to believe him. And he made sure not to give you any”.

“I know, but I stil–” you try to protest, but Hotchner doesn’t let you finish.

“When I ordered you and Morgan on the block, I ordered you to talk with the people. Find witnesses, anything. And that’s what you did. I’ve seen it myself and I’ve heard it from the team too; the way you talk to witnesses, victims, family members and all, is admirable. You’re professional yet your compassion and understanding shines through. That’s not a failure in my book” the corner of his mouth raises to a tired half smile. It’s there for just a second but it gives you hope. “The people we catch are some of the most dangerous people in the country. And some of them have perfected every aspect of their lives, to keep it hidden. And you believed it. That happens, even to the best of us. It does not make you bad at your job or incapable. It makes you human”.

Despite his kind words, the ache in your chest doesn’t ease up. The guilt is still heavy in you, feeling like you’ve let your team down. “I just feel like I’m at fault that he’d managed to get another victim”.

Hotch looks at you, studies you before him. He’s carefully choosing his words, trying to think of the best way to offer comfort. “You’re not responsible for his actions. And thankfully, we were able to piece it all together in time to find them. We got her back home and a mad man behind bars. That’s all that matters”. You nod quietly, still not sure what to think or if you’re ready to believe him. “A couple of years back, we had a case in Nevada. The unsub targeted couples and after he’d beat them to death, he’d leave them in their cars, middle of the road” his tone changes as he speaks of the case in his mind. It’s your turn to study him as he speaks. The way he rubs his fingers to his palms, fidgeting. There’s noticeable tension in his shoulders and his jaw is clenched as he pauses. “These cars would later be involved in accidents, due to being parked the way they were. But after we were called in, we realized that they were killed before the accidents. Soon, we thought the couples were staying in a roadside motel of sorts and went to ask around, the same way you and Morgan did today” he pauses for a second as if what he’s about to say next is still physically painful to say out loud. “We talked to owners and staff members of dozens of places. At one point, I went to a motel and met the owner of the place. I had every reason to expect running into our unsub, yet when I asked him questions and showed him pictures, he was able to fool me”.

‘Fool him’ is an interesting choice of words from him. You didn’t think anyone would be able to ‘fool’ Agent Hotchner. He’s clearly way too hard on himself, still thinking of it this way, feeling played by the unsub. Maybe he just had a bad day or made a mistake. Maybe he just really wanted to believe someone to be what they say they are. You find yourself coming up with more gentle explanations to his story than what you are towards your own.

“I believed him and left. Went on to the next place, continued with my job. But by the time we’d gathered more information and were able to find him, he had captured another couple. We were able to find them alive, but they were in poor shape. For a long time, I had these ‘what if’s’ playing in my head. ‘What if I’d seen through his lies?’ ‘What if I’d done a better job?’” he sighs and his eyes fall down to his hands. “But I try to accept the fact that there’s only so much we’re able to do at times. No matter how hard we want to help, we’re not always able to. It’s part of the job”.

His eyes raise up to meet yours again. In the warm lighting, you come to realize what a beautiful color his eyes actually are. The warm light brings more depth to the whiskey color in them. They’re captivating, but you’re not sure why they draw you in the way they do. There’s something painful behind them, a sadness of sort.

“And that’s only one example, but trust me. It happens and we can’t hold on to it. We just have to keep trying our best, that’s all we can do”.

Crap.

Maybe he’s right. Of course he is. Maybe you’re being too hard on yourself. Bad days happen and mistakes happen. It doesn’t mean you didn’t give your everything to the case or the team.

Silence has filled the room, but it doesn’t feel pressuring or uncomfortable. You’re not sure when silence has felt this safe the last time. With a small shake of your head, you try to get rid of the remaining heaviness in your heart. “Thank you, Hotch. I really needed to hear that tonight”. You offer him a smile, trying to reassure him that you do in fact feel a bit better. You get up and gesture to the file on your hand “I’ll finish this and bring it to you in a moment”.

Hotchner has also now gotten up, like the gentleman he is. “It can wait until tomorrow”. He says. You’re not sure what to think of this. Within these couple of months in the BAU, you know how much he wants to close these reports as soon as possible. Get it over with and out of his hands. He’s clearly noticed your puzzled look as he continues “Go home and get some rest. The report can wait one night”.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying”. He nods and tells you to go home one more time. He looks like there’s something else in his mind, trying to find the right words for his thoughts. “Only if you’ll do the same” you say, more lighthearted this time. “If you’re staying, I’m finishing this file with you”.

A big smile rises on his lips and it feels like the sun after a big storm. “Ordering me around, agent?” he chuckles.

“Someone’s gotta do it” you shrug, as if it’s nothing. “So how’s it gonna be, Hotchner? Are we staying or going?”

He’s thinking of your options for a second, trying to figure out if you’re bluffing. But not willing to take the chance and having you stay at the office, he nods “Deal. Let’s go home”.

“Smart choice” you laugh. You’re not sure where all that confidence came from, but you’re glad it worked. At the interview, when you’d told him he has the tendency to overwork himself, you had barely scratched the surface. This man is the definition of workaholic. You’re not sure if it’s fully by his choice or if he struggles to say no to the director. Whatever it is, you’re glad he’s taken your deal and is gathering his belongings.

In just a few minutes, you’re walking in the garage, headed to your cars. “Thanks, Hotch. Once again” you thank him as you stop by your car. Hotchner’s car isn’t far from yours but he stops next to you as well.

“Always” he says and you can tell he fully means it. With you and with anyone else from his team. He is always available and doing his best for his team.

“Good night” your voice comes out as a whisper, and you’re not sure where all the previous confidence faded.

With a tired smile he wishes you a good night and heads towards his own vehicle. As you’re entering your car, you come to realize how sore your body feels after such a long day, but you notice the heaviness in your heart to be much lighter. And that’s a win. After a deep breath, you start your car and drive out of the garage right behind Hotch’s car.

For a while, you drive in the same direction. It makes you smile how obedient Hotchner is to the traffic laws, even when it’s so quiet outside already. Stopping at every stop sign, right at the speed limit and he never forgets his turn signal. He’s careful and calculated, at every aspect of his life that you’ve seen.

Once there is only a mile to your house, your roads separate. He’s turning left while you’re continuing straight forward. You drive beside him, both waiting for your light to turn green. You wave one last goodbye to him as your light turns green. He waves back and you continue your drive home. You take one more look to your rearview mirror and watch his car disappear from view.

Taglist: @shyhotch @ahouseforhermitcrab @sinamew @lukeclvez @thebaileybugle @louderfortheback @skyler666 @lejlapvlc @14buddy22 @kleff03 @anlin2058 @pandorasdreamings @newlydevouthotchgirl @whoreslovehotch @mrslizzyolsen @wheelsupkels @ssamorganhotchner @lilozg-123 @uraverage-virgowh0re @suhke3 @sarahfortin6201 @chaoticconnoisseurgiver @scargarcia-magshotchner @twinfantasyftf @angelmather1 (Message me if your tag isn't properly working. Tumblr is weird at times)

#aaron hotchner x single mom!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #slow burn #hurt/comfort #the chances you take fic #hotchnerxo fic

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sinner-as-saint · 3 years

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‘Till We Bleed Out - 3.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 3 of this series.

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real.

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst

“Calm down, sweetheart.”

He must’ve noticed you were on the verge of losing your mind. How could you not? You had so many questions. So many things you couldn’t wrap your brain around. What was the meaning of all this?

“What is this?” you pointed at the painting; scared, nervous and baffled.

Bucky walked further in, careful as to not make any sudden movement which would make you even more of a nervous wreck than you already were. “I’ll tell you everything, doll. Just calm down, alright. There’s nothing to be scared of. I’m right here with you.”

You looked up at him in surprise. “Nothing to be scared of? There’s a painting of me and you dating back to 1872. That was almost a hundred and fifty years ago. But I met you just two days ago. None of this makes sense, none of it adds up. And that doesn’t bother you?” you sounded more sad and confused than scared. This isn’t normal. None of this is. “Who are you?”

Despite knowing that someone else in your shoes would be screaming bloody murder and running for their lives by now, you stayed put. Despite the confusion, you felt protected. Something inside you knew no harm would come to you while Bucky’s around. But the rational side of you couldn’t afford listening to that side of you right now. Right now your brain needed concrete answers, not reassurance.

“No. It doesn’t bother me.” He walked over and held you gently by the shoulders. “And if you let me explain, it won’t bother you either.” One look into his eyes and you felt yourself calming down already.

“Make this make sense.”

After he got you to sit down, in that very room, he began explaining.

“I’m not exactly human, Y/N.” His first few words earned him a nod from you.

“I figured that out a few minutes ago.”

He continued. “And neither were you, in your previous lifetime.” That sentence shocked you. You didn’t know what was more surprising, learning that there was indeed a lifetime before this one or the fact that in the previous one, you and Bucky knew each other. “We were both vampires.”

“Oh my God…”

He paused for a while, trying to be as slow and as careful as he could be with his words. “We were married, you and I. And we were happy.” He said so and waited for your reaction.

Your eyes watered and he noticed. “I’m… I was your wife?” you asked and he nodded. You thought back on all the things he told you about his wife; those were all about you. Your heart felt like it was being torn in two. “And I died.” he nodded again. “How did I die?”

He took a deep breath and lowered his eyes to the dark carpet beneath his feet, that memory was always the hardest to revisit. “Our families were not exactly… friendly. Yours hated mine, and vice versa so our marriage was not something they could bear.” He let out a dry chuckle. He continued, a strange fire in his eyes; burning hot hatred. “They kept trying to break us apart,” he smiled, sadly, “but we were strong. Together.” He looked back up at you. “Until one day…”

He stopped talking. He ran his fingers through his hair, he was hurting. You felt the intense need to just get up from the couch you were sat on, and walk over to where he sat and just comfort him. Maybe hug him and tell him it’s all okay now. But you remained seated, you couldn’t move.

“Bucky… I need to know.” You figured it was a delicate subject but you needed to piece it all together. You were a mess at the moment.

“We were returning home and we were attacked. By hunters.”

You sat up straighter. “Hunters?”

“Vampire hunters. Two different parties. Each anonymously hired and sent by our own families, ordered to have each of us killed. But you know, back then hunters had rivalry against each other as well. And ironically, the groups of hunters our family hired were not exactly seeing eye to eye with each other.” He let out another dry chuckle. “Upon reaching our home, they all forgot their initial purpose for a moment and began butchering one another instead, in the name of looming enmity. And you and I got caught in the crossfire. ”

He paused. If it were physically possible he would’ve shivered at the memory; so tragically vivid in his mind. You waited for him to continue. “But some of them also remembered that they had been ordered to kill us both, so our front yard quickly became a battlefield.” He sounded bitter, angry. “We fought them off for a while but we were terribly outnumbered. I was wounded, so were you, and I tried to reach you but…” he trailed off, took a deep breath and continued, “they got to you first.”

You tried to find the right thing to say but got nothing. Bucky spoke up again. “I was helpless. I couldn’t move. I had to watch as they… took you away from me.” He finally looked up at you and you were in shock. “Those sent by your family, what was left of them after the massacre at least, fled. Those sent by mine finished their job.” The look of hurt on his face was unbearable. “And I begged them. I begged them to kill me too but they just left me there.”

You felt a weight on your chest. That was brutal.

“You died at our doorstep.” He still remembered the last few moments he held you before you left…

He somehow managed to get up and stumbled on his way to you, bullets and sharp stakes pierced all over his body as well as yours. You weren’t gonna make it, and he knew but he still begged you to stay.

“You can’t leave me. You promised.” He cried, cradling your head on his lap. “Don’t leave me.”

He watched how you used the little bit of energy left to choke out a few words. “I’ll find you again. Someday. I promise…” your body was getting heavier and heavier. Bucky felt like he was dying too. “I love you, Buck.”

And with that, you closed your eyes forever. He sat there, your lifeless body in his arms and he screamed and yelled and cursed the universe. He was wounded, he would be healed by dawn. But you wouldn’t. He survived the attack that day, but part of him died along with you too.

You cleared your throat. “How do you… how did you know it’s me? How can you be sure? What if I just look like her?” you looked up at the painting and he did too.

He gave you a soft smile. “Chamomile and lavender tea is your favorite. You like red roses. You have a fear of deep water but you love the beach. You have this weird obsession with snakes. You love red wine. You could practically live in a library. Thunderstorms comfort you. You get a lot of déjà-vu, more than anyone you know. Also, you surely have a birthmark on your back, below your left shoulder. It perhaps hurts sometimes and you don’t know why, because regular birthmarks don’t hurt.”

Your eyes widened more and more as he spoke, but you gasped when he mentioned the birthmark. “How do you know that?” Very few people knew of your rather strange birthmark which tingled, burned and hurt sometimes.

“You were staked through the heart from the back. It left a mark on you.” He answered. “Forever.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to soak all this new information in. This was a lot to take in.

You cleared your throat again. “I was a vampire.” You stated. Bucky nodded. “I married you.” He nodded again. “I can’t- how do I-,”

“Hey, it’s a lot to take in. Take your time. Go to bed if you wish to.” His voice sounded so soft.

Oh you couldn’t sleep, not with all this. You shook your head no, you had questions. “How long were we married for?”

“Almost a century.” His answer made your jaw drop.

“How old are you?”

He chuckled. “250. Give or take a few years.”

“Oh my God,” you sighed, genuinely surprised. You thought back on all that he said earlier, about your families, and asked, “You said our families were against our relationship.” He nodded. “Well, where are they now?”

“Gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. “After you left, I was unhinged. My memories of the couple of decades after your death is a little blurry. Apparently I went seeking revenge. But our friends found me and brought me back to sanity before I was gone completely and they told me that I had destroyed each and every last member of both our families.”

“You killed them.” It wasn’t a question.

“They deserved it. They took you away from me.” He sounded so broken, and hurt that you could feel your heart burn inside your ribcage.

“When you say ‘our friends’ you mean…” you trailed off not knowing how to put it.

He nodded. “Other vampires, yes. Most of them at least.”

“This is so crazy.” You mumbled, looking down at your lap. This was too much to handle all at once. Bucky got up from his seat and walked cautiously over to you.

He sat down on the edge of the wooden coffee table right in front of you and held his hand out. You placed your hand in his without a second thought. “You always had faith in the universe you know. You used to tell me that one single lifetime isn’t going to be enough for all the love that you and I have for each other. You used to always tell me that you’ll find me in the next one as well. And you did. You kept your promise. You’re home now, to me.”

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. Those words sounded so familiar. Bucky reached out and wiped the tear away. “I… I don’t remember. I mean, I’ve lived a whole life not knowing you were until just a few days ago and now… all this?”

He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles softly. “It’s almost dawn. You haven’t slept well. Get some rest, we’ll figure it out. We always did.”

You couldn’t argue. You needed to not think for a while, so you just nodded and got up. He didn’t follow you as you made your way to the bedroom and threw yourself down on the bed. You closed your eyes and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

The next day, you spent most of your morning in the room; unable to leave the bed. Each time you thought back on all that was revealed to you last night, your head hurt. Wanda was kind enough to come in and leave you your meals. She didn’t say a word, just polite smiles. Bucky came by as well, each hour or so to check up on you. You weren’t ready to talk yet. He understood.

You spent the rest of the day looking out of the window, into the vast backyard. The weather was still gloomy, much like your mood.

After dinner, Bucky came by again. With tea this time. You gladly accepted the cup, remembering how it helped you sleep better the other night. Bucky was about to walk out but you stopped him.

“Stay. Please.” You said, your voice a little strained because you had cried earlier, unable to understand the wave of emotion which washed over you. He rushed to sit next to you, on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been having dreams.” you confessed.

“What kind of dreams?”

“About you. About us, together. About ballrooms I’ve never been in, about people I haven’t met. And this house, ever since I got here it feels like I’ve... “ you trailed off, unable to find the right words. Or maybe the words were too crazy for you to utter them out loud.

He finished your sentence. “Like you’ve lived here before?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

He smiled. “It’s because you have. This is your home, our home. Those aren’t dreams, they’re your memories.”

Another tear fell down your cheek. Well, that made sense now. That would explain why your ‘dreams’ were so detailed.

Bucky stayed and talked to you until you felt sleepy. He kissed you on the forehead, whispering a ‘goodnight’ once you got under the covers and was about to walk out of the room but you stopped him, yet again.

“There’s something else.” you said.

He stopped right at the door and turned around to face you, “Yes?”

“The day I got here, when you opened the door, I…” you reminded yourself that he deserves to know, “I felt this pressing need to tell you that I finally found you. I didn’t understand what that meant then.”

For the first time in a long time, Bucky genuinely smiled. And it was breathtaking. His smile was gorgeous, contagious. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.” He left.

You fell asleep rather quickly. And dreamt, again...

Kisses under a grand chandelier. Blue eyes, laughter and wine. Pure bliss.

“We should get going, sweetheart. It’s late.” Bucky whispered, holding you close. “And I can’t share you any longer. I need you all to myself now.” He kissed along your jaw, making you giggle.

Home. At last. Only just as you got down from the carriage, you realized something was wrong. Pain, pain everywhere.

Bullets, stakes, sticks, stones - everything hurt. You heard someone screaming as you were being dragged away from Bucky. It was you. You begged for mercy, but you didn’t receive any. Then suddenly, a spot on your back burned. It hurt more than anything you’ve ever experienced. You realized you were being staked through the heart, and it was too late. You couldn’t fight back.

The pain, although excruciating, was replaced by fear. Fear of having to leave Bucky behind. Bucky… where was he?

Your vision got blurry, you fell to the ground. You tried to call out for him but no sound came out of your mouth. You were fading away. But then you saw a pair of dark eyes which slowly turned blue and teary.

“Don’t leave me…”

“I’ll find you, I promise.” All the years you spent with him flashed in front of your eyes. Your wedding, and the decades of pure happiness which followed. “I’ll find you…”

You woke up gasping again, covered in goosebumps. You had a terrible headache as it all came to you at once; memories of a forgotten lifetime. You struggled to breathe; it felt like being hit by a violent wave and being pushed deeper beneath the surface. Your birthmark burned hot. And your lungs felt like they were on fire.

You sat there in bed, breathing hard and fast as you remembered everything. You realized you had tears streaming down your face. It was all too much, but you kept searching for more. And the more you looked the more you found. You felt like you were about to pass out.

1802, when you first met Bucky. Married in 1808. You died about 90 years after that. You remembered. You remembered it all now. Your cruel family, and his. The bloodshed of that night. And how you died at the doorstep of this mansion. This mansion… your home. You knew this place like the back of your hand. This is your home.

You’re home.

You called out, not too loud, knowing he would hear you still. “Bucky!” you held back sob. How did you survive all these years? Without him?

“Bucky!” you called out again, crying out loud this time. You heard his footsteps running down the hall. And your heart raced.

You had been so close to your home this whole time, so close to Bucky, in the same town. You just didn’t know.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #vampire!bucky #bucky smut #marvel au #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x you

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nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

Gaze on the Shore

Summary: As the world starts to reopen, tentatively hoping the worst of the pandemic is behind them, Chris and Whitney face a new set of challenges. With busy work schedules and the pressures of normal life looming on the horizon, will the foundation they’ve built through lockdown be strong enough to keep their relationship steady or will they crack under the strain?

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Part Three

Note: There is a bit of a POV change in the middle of this chapter, I hope it isn’t too confusing or disruptive! Thank you to everyone who has liked and commented so far, I love hearing what you guys think!

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Part Four

“Mom, how many people did you invite to this party?” I asked as Chris returned to the kitchen from his fourth trip unloading groceries from her car. “You do know that we’re still not supposed to have huge gatherings, right?”

“I do know that,” she nodded as she started unpacking the bags. “It won’t be a large gathering. It’s just your dad and I, you, Chris and Gray, Jack, Andrea and Theo and your Uncle Rob and his gang.”

I raised an eyebrow at that claim.

“By ‘his gang’ do you mean ‘everyone he’s ever met’? Because there’s enough food here to feed an army.”

“Oh, you’re so dramatic,” she rolled her eyes. “It looks like more than it is. I figured we’d keep it simple and just have lots of appetizers instead of a big meal and the boxes they come in take up more space. It might not even be enough if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah, it looks like we’re all going to starve.”

There was sarcasm dripping from my words and my mom shot me a glare.

“Is she always like this, Chris?” She asked. “I don’t remember her being so condescending and I don’t know how you put up with it.”

“Hey!” I laughed. “That was mean. I’m not being condescending, I’m being realistic.”

“Children and men eat a lot,” she argued. “Look at the size of Chris, he could probably eat all of this by himself.”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” Chris asked with a soft chuckle. “Because I’m not sure that it was.”

“Sounded to me like she’s saying you’re getting chubby,” I informed him teasingly, ignoring my mom’s protests. “Honestly, Mom, it’s been a hard year for everyone, it’s not nice to mention someone’s weight gain like that.”

“That is not what I meant! And it doesn’t appear that he’s gained any weight,” she insisted before shooting him a sly smile. “But, Chris, why don’t you take off your shirt and show us, just to be sure.”

“Mom!” I shrieked in horror as Chris howled with laughter. “That is so beyond inappropriate.”

“He’s a handsome man!” She weakly defended herself. “I may be old and married, but I have eyes, Whitney.”

I shook my head as I laughed in disbelief and crossed the kitchen.

“Let’s get you out of here,” I suggested to Chris, grabbing his arm and tugging him towards the door. “We need to keep you away from her.”

He was still laughing as I dragged him into the hallway and I shook my head as I leaned my forehead into his chest.

“I regret wanting you to get to know my family more,” I decided. “I think it’s time for us to go back to the other side of the country, four days is clearly long enough.”

“Your family is great,” he assured me. “It’s fun seeing you with them and learning where you got your wonderful taste in men.”

I wrinkled my nose in displeasure at that observation.

“I can’t believe my mom thinks you’re hot.”

“I can,” he chuckled. “I do great with women over fifty.”

“Great, so I have the fangirls and the cougars to worry about.”

“I’m afraid so,” he smiled, pulling me close against him. “But luckily, I’ve only got eyes for you.”

“Good,” I smiled, stretching up to kiss him softly. “Do you mind going to find Grayson? I’m suspicious of how quiet him and my dad are being. I’m guessing it’s not because they’re resting like my Dad’s supposed to be and I need to try and convince Mom not to cook all that food.”

Chris chuckled and nodded his head before letting me slip out of his grasp and heading off in search of our son.

I lost the battle about just how much food we would need. From my estimation - as I looked over the dining room table that was absolutely covered in food - we would be eating hors d’oeuvres for the foreseeable future, but my mom was so excited that it was hard to criticize her. She always loved hosting a good gettogether, especially if the whole family was going to be there and we hadn’t all been together in so long now that I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut and let her have her moment.

Knowing it would be a very overstimulating afternoon and evening for Grayson with probably a late bedtime, Chris took him upstairs for a nap just after lunch. He hated napping and only really did it when he was feeling particularly tired, but Chris took some books and figured they could at least have some quiet time even if he didn’t actually fall asleep.

They stayed upstairs for a little over an hour and just as they were coming back down there was a commotion outside. Moments later the door opened and all of our guests, who had apparently arrived at the same time, came pouring into the house. There was a flurry of greetings and for once, Grayson seemed a bit overwhelmed. He clung to Chris’ leg, half hiding behind it, but as soon as his eyes landed on my uncle, his whole face lit up.

“It’s you!” He cheered, leaping away from Chris and rushing towards the new, but familiar face. “Hi!”

“Hello!” Robert grinned. “How are you?”

“Good!” Grayson answered. “Why are you here?”

I laughed at his blunt question, but Robert took it in stride.

“I’m here for dinner,” he informed Gray. “We’re having a party!”

“Oh, yeah!”

“You probably don’t remember these guys,” Robert told him, gesturing to the younger two of his own kids who’d come with him. “But these are your cousins.”

He introduced them, the older one looking amused by Grayson’s enthusiasm and the younger one looking a bit concerned, but Grayson was undeterred.

“We have a trampoline!” He told them. “Come see!”

He didn’t wait to see if they were interested before turning and running towards the backdoor, but apparently he’d managed to pique their curiosity as the other two children chased after him.

“Someone’s going to need to supervise that,” my Aunt Susan announced, giving her husband a pointed look.

“I’ll go,” he nodded before turning his attention to me. “But when did you adopt a teenager? That kid is huge compared to the last time I saw him.”

“Don’t remind me,” I smiled, shaking my head. “It’s breaking my heart how fast he’s growing up.”

“Just wait until he starts school and makes you drop him off around the corner,” he teased. “That’s when the real heartbreak starts.”

“That’ll never happen,” I insisted as Chris nodded beside me before adding his own thoughts.

“He’s got cool parents, he’ll never be embarrassed by us.”

My parents and my aunt and uncle all laughed at that claim.

“That’s what every parent thinks,” my dad informed us. “And they’re always wrong.”

I shot him a playful glare, knowing that what he was saying was probably true.

“I don’t need to hear that,” I told him, crossing my arms with a dramatic huff. “Why don’t you go outside and watch the kids? You can take that negativity with you.”

“Alright, alright,” my dad chuckled. “I don’t mind going out to watch the little monsters.”

“You and uncle Rob head out,” my brother suggested. “And Chris and I will grab some beers.”

All the men agreed and quickly set about accomplishing their respective tasks with strict instructions from my mother for my dad to be very careful about his alcohol intake as she reminded him that he’d had surgery not quite a week ago as if he could have forgotten.

As soon as they were gone and the room was less crowded, Andrea put Theo down and, to my delight, he toddled straight over to me. I happily scooped him into my arms and Andrea laughed, shaking her head.

“He’s never going to learn how to walk if you carry him around all the time.”

“He just walked to me, didn’t he?” I smirked. “Seems like he can walk just fine already and I have a year of cuddles to make up for.”

I tickled his belly, earning a squeal of giggles from the little guy just as Chris and Jack walked back through the room with their beverages.

Chris glanced over and shot me a wink as they passed by.

“You’re killin’ me, Winnie!”

I laughed as he followed Jack out of the room without waiting for a response. Almost in unison, the women around me raised a questioning eyebrow at his comment, but I shook my head and shrugged them off, not wanting to start up that conversation.

Chris was amazed by how well he fit in with her family. Of course, it helped that he was already so close with her uncle from their time working together on The Avengers, but everyone else had welcomed him with open arms as well. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he was nervous that some people in her family - especially her dad - would hold a bit of a grudge about how things had gone down between them, but everyone appeared to be pretty understanding of their complicated situation. There seemed to be no ill will towards him or at least, if there was, they had the decency to keep it to themselves.

A few beers into the evening, he was contemplating those facts as he leaned on the railing of the little back porch, watching Grayson bounce on the trampoline with his cousins. They’d been at it for hours, barely pausing for long enough to eat and digest their food before they went back to bouncing again. He smiled as Gray’s giggles filled his ears when one of the other kids jumped a bit too close to him and sent him even higher than before. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of that sound and he couldn't deny the ache in his heart that throbbed every time he thought about his upcoming busy schedule.

“It’s pretty great, isn’t it?” Robert asked, appearing by his side. “Being a dad.”

“It’s the best,” Chris agreed. “I know it’s been such a dark year, but it’s been one of the best of my life, getting to spend every day with Grayson and Whitney.”

“We saw your official Instagram engagement announcement,” Robert smiled as he leaned on the railing next to his friend. “Susan and I thought it was very sweet.”

“Thanks. Sometimes it’s easier to just put it out there instead of letting everyone speculate and for the most part, people have been very supportive.”

“I’m glad to hear that, you deserve to be happy. I’m glad you two figured it out.”

“It’s not always easy,” Chris acknowledged with a smile. “But we’re working on it.”

“Relationships never are,” Robert wisely reminded him. “And I say this with all the love in the world, but Whitney can be hard work.”

Chris laughed, hanging his head for a moment before looking back at Rob.

“She’d probably say the same about me.”

“That’s true, you both overthink things too much,” Robert teasingly rolled his eyes. “But Whitney can be very self-protective, often in a very self-sabotaging way.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Chris admitted. “But I think we’re in a good place right now. We’re getting better at communicating. The real test will be when I go back to work next week and I’m away a lot more.”

“It’ll take some patience, but I have faith in you two,” Rob assured him before giving him a pointed look. “I stand by what I said before though, if you break her heart, you’ll have me to deal with.”

“Oh, there’s a long list of people who will be right there with you,” Chris informed him with a laugh. “But you won’t need to. She’s it for me. I can’t imagine a life with anyone else and I owe you big time for introducing us.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, you’re perfect for each other,” Robert patted him on the back. “And that kid of yours is pretty special.”

A proud grin instantly slid onto Chris’ face.

“He is, isn’t he? We got lucky.”

“I don’t think it’s all luck,” Robert insisted. “He’s respectful, kind and considerate and I think those are things he’s learned from you and Whitney. You might both be idiots in some ways, but you know how to raise a good kid.”

Before Chris had time to comment, a voice from the doorway drew their attention.

“Who’s an idiot?”

The smile on Whitney’s face told them that she already had a pretty good idea who they were talking about as she walked over to join them.

“You and Chris,” Robert confirmed with a smirk. “But I was just saying that despite that, you’ve done a great job with Grayson.”

Whitney laughed as a shiver ran through her from the cool night air. Without a thought, Chris moved closer and tucked her under his arm for warmth.

“I’m not sure if I should say thank you or be insulted,” she mused. “But we can’t take much credit for Gray. I think he’d be a good kid even if we tried to actively discourage it.”

“He has his moments though,” Chris smiled. “He can throw quite a tantrum if you catch him in the wrong mood.”

“I don’t believe it,” Robert shook his head. “I’ve seen absolutely no evidence that he’s anything, but an angel.”

“You just wait. As soon as he starts getting tired, the other side will come out.”

Whitney laughed at Chris’ warning and nodded in agreement.

“He’s like Bruce Banner,” she teased. “Once all the sugar he’s had wears off, his hulk side will come out.”

Robert smiled at the comparison, but shook his head.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well let’s hope you don’t have to,” Chris joked as the kids stopped their bouncing and ran over to the adults on the porch.

“Daa-ad,” Robert’s son called in a sing-song tone. “Can we have dessert now?”

“Dessert?!” Robert gasped. “We thought you didn’t want any and ate it all already!”

All three faces fell at that news, but as Grayson’s lip quivered, Whitney ended their suffering.

“He’s just being mean!” She assured them. “There’s still plenty of food and dessert for everyone.”

There was a chorus of cheers before the kids stampeded towards the house. Whitney followed after them, playfully shoving her uncle on her way by.

“You almost made Gray cry!”

He shrugged at her scolding, a smirk on his face.

“I was just trying to bring out the hulk.”

She rolled her eyes and continued back towards the door as the sound of the two men’s laughter followed her.

After an afternoon and evening spent eating mountains of food and drinking an abundance of drinks, I was in a wonderful mood. Slightly because of the alcohol, but more so because of how heart-warming it was to see my new little family of Chris and Grayson bonding with the rest of my family. They fit in so well and it was amazing to have most of the people that I cared about in one room at the same time after being apart for so long.

Chris was also in a wonderful mood, but I had a sneaking suspicion that his mood was much more influenced by the alcohol. I knew he’d had a good day, especially having time to reconnect with my uncle, but he was definitely much more intoxicated than I was. Not nearly as far gone as my brother - who was looking very sloppy by the time my sister-in-law dragged him out the door - but as he got louder, goofier and more physically affectionate with me throughout the evening, it became obvious that he was feeling the effects of the many beers he’d had.

It was even more apparent when he stumbled into the bedroom we were sleeping in later that night.

I was lounging on the bed waiting for him to finish brushing his teeth in the bathroom across the hall and when he appeared, the cheeky grin on his face put a smile on my own.

“I put some water for you next to the bed,” I told him. “I thought you might need it in the morning.”

“Why ever would you say that?”

“Because I have a feeling that you might be a teeny tiny bit drunk.”

“Me?” He gasped. “I’m totally fine.”

He drew out the ‘i’ in the word in an attempt to emphasize his point, but it had the opposite affect and earned a giggle from me.

“You’re a goof,” I told him. “Take off your jeans and come get some sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He saluted me before turning around and unbuckling his jeans. In the most sultry way he could muster, he slid his jeans down his legs and popped his hip as he looked back at me over his shoulder. I snorted a laugh at his attempted strip tease and shook my head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously sexy,” he clarified as he walked over to the bed and slowly crawled over me until I was laying back against the pillows. “Right?”

“I can’t deny that,” I relented, sliding my arms around his neck as he hovered over me. “But also, just plain ridiculous too.”

“I’ll take it.”

His words were mumbled as his lips dipped to brush over mine before leaning in for a kiss. It was slightly sloppier than the usual kisses we shared - no doubt due to Chris’ intoxication - but it was passionate nonetheless and I found myself disappointed when he pulled back to bury his head into my neck

“Winnie,” he groaned against my skin. “We need to talk.”

The phrase usually would have sent a flash of panic through me, but there was a playfulness to his voice that had me more curious than I was anxious.

“Do we? About what?”

He was quiet for a moment, his breath tickling my neck before he spoke.

“I want another baby,” he informed me, his announcement coming out in a slightly whiny tone. “I really, really do.”

I laughed, moving my hand up to the back of his head to affectionately run my fingers through his hair.

“I know you do, you’ve made your thoughts on us growing our family very clear.”

“No, but I really want one,” he pleaded. “Seeing you with Theo has made it all so much more real. You’re a natural, Win. I’m ready to have another one of our own.”

He’d taken on a more serious tone and it filled me with a strange feeling - one of eagerness and anxiety.

“We will, Chris. One day.”

I’d hoped that my assurance would squash the discussion for the time being, but it seemed to just make him dig his heels in even more.

“No,” he whined. “Not one day, now. We could do it right now.”

He pressed his hips against mine to emphasize his point and while the sensation was very enjoyable, I still shook my head and stayed firm.

“We can’t make decisions like that on a whim and especially not while you’re drunk.”

At that point he pulled his head back from where it was nestled against my neck and looked me in the eye, his seriousness clearly returning.

“It’s not a whim, I think about it all the time,” he insisted. “I want a big family and I want us to experience it all together, as a team. I missed so much last time with my filming schedule and then you moved out and we started sharin’ time. I want to do it all together.”

His words were so sincere and said with such conviction that it did tug on my heartstrings, but even as I affectionately grazed my nails across the back of his neck and he nuzzled against my jaw, I resisted.

“I know what you mean, I’m looking forward to it too,” I agreed. “But there’s more to discuss before we leap in.”

It was something that we’d have several discussions about over the last few months. Chris had never been as determined as he was currently, but he’d made his desire to grow our family abundantly clear. I’d explained my hesitations to him and he was always understanding because my concerns were perfectly valid, but it was becoming increasingly clear that he considered the benefits to outweigh the potential stress it could cause.

He demonstrated his growing impatience with a dramatic sigh and I smiled at his little sulk, but the words that left his mouth next turned that smile quickly into a frown.

“Are you saying no because you still think we’re gonna break up?”

“What? No!” I squirmed and wiggled until I could slide out from underneath him. He flopped onto his back as I sat up and looked down at him so I could make sure he was listening and taking in what I was about to say. “Things are good for us right now, Chris. I feel like we’re really solid and working well together even when we have hiccups. I feel like we’re more secure now than ever.”

“So, isn’t it the perfect time for another baby then?”

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But we should talk about it, work out all the logistics and make a well thought out decision, not just leap into it because you’ve had a few beers and are feeling broody from seeing me with a baby.”

Chris stared at me for a moment before his cheeky smile slid back onto his face.

“Fine,” he relented, tugging my arm until I was laying down again, facing him. “But I’ll hold you to that ‘maybe’.”

“It was ‘maybe you’re right’ not ‘maybe we should’,” I warned him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He giggled and shook his head before pulling me in for a quick kiss.

“No take backs,” he teased. “You’ve said it now!”

“Oh, Chris,” I laughed, snuggling in close against him. “I love you. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He placed a kiss on the top of my head before leaning back just enough to turn the off the lamp on the bed side table next to him. Once it was dark, he squeezed me tightly against back against his chest and almost immediately fell asleep.

Despite the fact that Chris’ enthusiastic plea for a baby had started the wheels turning in my brain, we didn’t actually talk about it the next day because we simply didn’t have time.

I was unbelievably grateful to see my parents again and I was more than happy to stay with them while my dad got settled back in at home and my mom had a chance to calm down from the ordeal of his heart attack, but now that Chris had organized his house, it was time for us to go. We still planned to see my parents as often as possible, but we needed our own space and I wanted Grayson to get settled into the place that would be our home for the next few months. Chris was feeling a little rough that morning and had slept in so by the time he was up and ready, we started packing and headed off to our new home.

The complications hit when we were about halfway there. Chris’ phone rang and I answered since he was driving, but the news was fairly disappointing. We’d ordered a new bed for Grayson that was supposed to be delivered late that afternoon and it had somehow gotten lost. The delivery company were very apologetic and promised it would be delivered the next day, but as Chris had already removed the old bed from the room, it left us a bit stuck.

“I guess he could just sleep with us,” I suggested with a shrug. “He’s little, he’ll fit in your king sized bed.”

“Our king sized bed,” Chris corrected with a pointed look before glancing in the rearview mirror to see if Grayson was paying attention. “But I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”

“Go on…” I prompted, curious about what he would suggest.

“Why don’t we have a little slumber party in the living room? The couch is big enough for us all to sleep on or we can pull the cushions off and watch a movie. It’ll be like a little celebration to get him used to the new place, make it feel like home.”

A smile slid onto my face as he glanced at me hopefully.

“That sounds like a great idea,” I agreed. “Would you like that, Gray? Should we all sleep in the living room tonight? Have a little slumber party?”

“Yeah!” He cheered. “With pizza?!”

We laughed at his priorities, but I nodded my head.

“I think we could arrange that!”

Grayson let out another cheer of approval and it warmed my heart. He’d been so great all week - well, really, the entire last year - adapting to all the changes that we constantly threw at him. He had his moments, but for the most part he took everything in stride and was so easy going. I was grateful to him for not making things even more difficult for us and it would be nice to have a little party with just the three of us to make him feel special and show our appreciation in some small way.

A few hours later, after doing some unpacking of our suitcases and sending Chris out to pick up the pizza, we were all sitting on the floor on top of the cushions that we’d pulled off the couch, trying to decide on a movie.

“What about The Little Mermaid?” Chris suggested, shooting Grayson a look as he knew he didn’t have much interest in it.

Right on cue, Grayson pulled a face and came very close to rolling his eyes as he looked at me.

“That’s Daddy’s favourite,” he told me. “But I don’t wike it.”

“It’s one of my favourites,” Chris corrected him. “And you might like it if you gave it a chance, you’ve never even seen it.”

“Yes, I did,” Grayson argued. “It’s boring!”

Chris gasped dramatically, earning a smirk from Gray.

“Alright, you two, stop bickering,” I smiled. “I’m sure we can think of something that we’ll all enjoy.”

“What about…” Chris made a thoughtful face as he took a bite of his pizza with Gray eagerly awaiting his next suggestion. “Monsters Inc?”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” I nodded. “Have you seen that one, Gray?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Is it scary?”

“Well, there are monsters,” Chris informed him. “But they’re nice monsters. They just scare children because they use their screams as electricity.”

His description, while it was supposed to be reassuring, made it sound a little bit scarier than it was and Grayson’s eyes widened as a rather appalled look came onto his face.

“No, thank you.”

Chris laughed at his polite refusal, but after another moment of thought, he shot me a smirk.

“What about The Good Dinosaur?”

Grayson gasped, his whole face lighting up.

“Yes! Yes! That one!”

He frantically looked between us, waiting for one of us to disagree. Chris was watching me closely as well, but as much as I didn’t want to watch a movie that I knew would make me cry, I couldn’t bear to damper the excitement on Gray’s face.

“That’s fine with me!”

I smiled at Grayson as he let out another little cheer and turned his attention back to his food. Once he wasn’t looking, I stuck my tongue out at Chris as he chuckled and pulled the movie up on the TV.

I managed to hold it together through the first half of the movie. I could feel Chris watching me, waiting for me to shed a tear, but it only made me more determined not to. It wasn’t until the little dinosaur had to say goodbye to his new friend that I let a few tears slip. I almost got away with it as Chris and Grayson were too engrossed in the movie to notice, but when I sniffled quietly, Chris’ gaze shot over to me.

“Awwe, Win! Don’t cry.”

That comment caught Grayson’s attention and he spun around to look at me too. However, his reaction was quite a contrast to Chris’ as worry covered his face.

“Mama, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, buddy,” I assured him with a smile. “The movie just made me kinda sad.”

“But…” Grayson paused as his brow furrowed in confusion. “They found their families.”

“They did, but they had to say goodbye to each other and that made me a little sad.”

He frowned at that admission and crawled into my lap. Mimicking the way I always pulled my sleeve over my hand to wipe away his tears when there were no tissues handy, he did the same for me before wrapping his arms around my neck and squeezing me tight.

“It’s okay, Mama,” he comforted me. “Don’t cry.”

I squeezed him back as tight as I could without hurting him, fighting back more tears at his kind gesture. A quick glance at Chris told me that he was doing the same and I was overwhelmed with love for the child in my arms and for our little family.

Once the movie was finished, I took Grayson to brush his teeth while Chris did the dishes before we all settled back on our little improvised bed for a story. Grayson snuggled up against me while Chris read to him and by the time the story was done, he was fast asleep.

“He needs a haircut,” Chris observed as he watched me smooth his hair back and out of his face. “It’s getting long.”

“I can give it a shot. Maybe I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so,” Chris chuckled. “He told me once that your mom said you’re never allowed to cut his hair again.”

“That was so long ago,” I smiled. “And it was one bad haircut when he was, like, barely two years old. I might have improved since then.”

“Oh?” Chris smirked. “Have you been practicing?”

“No,” I admitted. “But I’m sure it would be fine.”

Chris laughed softly and shook his head.

“We can find a professional.”

“Alright, if you insist,” I playfully rolled my eyes as Grayson sighed in his sleep and snuggled even closer. “Gosh, he’s so sweet, isn’t he?”

“He really is,” Chris agreed. “He’s adjusted to all these changes so well, it blows me away. He doesn’t let anything rattle him.”

“He’s a little trooper.”

I smiled down at him and we stayed like that just appreciating the quiet moment. After I let out a yawn, Chris shifted his gaze back to me.

“Slide him over here,” he instructed. “I’ll sleep out here with him and you can have the bed.”

I thought about it for a minute, but shook my head.

“I’ll stay out here with you guys,” I insisted. “It’s comfortable and it’s nice being all snuggled up together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “Just help me lay him down so he doesn’t hurt his neck.”

Chris nodded and gently slid Grayson away from my side until his head was resting on the pillow that was between Chris and I. Once he was all settled, Chris leaned over him and cupped my cheek to pull me in for a kiss.

“I love you,” he mumbled against my lips when we parted. “I’m glad you guys are here.”

“Me too. It would have been awful without you around for so long.”

Chris nodded in agreement before slipping his hand from my cheek and shifting to lay down. I did the same and Chris pulled the blanket over all three of us as I drifted off, enjoying the sensation of being curled up in our little cocoon.

Part Five

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syms-things-5 · 2 years

Text

Case Histories - Chapter Nine

An AU Andy Barber fic (based on BBC’s ‘The Split’)

Previous Chapter Here / Masterlist Here

Chapter Warnings: 18+ NSFW, strong language, angst, emotional stress

CHAPTER NINE

“What was he doing here last year?” Grace asked, keeping one eye on Mr Parker through the glass window of the boardroom so as to possibly aim her pen at his head if he happened to walk by.

“Huh, you’re not wrong.” Grace rolled her eyes in agreement.

Grace was staggered by just how much his reputation apparently preceded him, and she would be glad if she never saw his name written in the diary ever again.

“You OK?”

Grace looked up to find Andy leaning against the door frame, concern etched across his face as his fingers absent-mindedly clicked at the pen in his hand.

“Yeh, I’m fine.” She smiles, shrugging it off.

Andy grabs a cup from the shelf behind the machine and places it next to hers, expectantly. She looks at the cup and then at him before laughing out loud.

“I’m not sharing my milk with you.”

“Christ, what’s happened to your day?” she asks.

“There’s only so many percentages I can take in the space of a couple of hours, Gracie.” He says, matter-of-factly. “I sometimes wonder if I would have been better off studying maths.”

Grace nods in sympathy. More than she’d care to admit, she often has to suffer the embarrassment of asking her eldest child for help with a calculator. That’s before even approaching the possible-but-definite multiple data breaches in sharing confidential information with a fifteen-year-old girl who was herself partial to a bit of celebrity gossip from time to time. But no one here needed to know about that. Not even Andy who likely would have gotten a kick out of that admission given her history with all things numerical.

“Parker’s a dick.” Andy says after a beat, chancing that she might want to talk about it if only to get it out of her system. “Even Jack has his struggles with him so you’re not wrong to feel irritated. And I know you’ll be handling it as professionally and as calmly as possible so you can walk away with your integrity intact. You should remember that.”

He’s right of course; no one found Nathaniel Parker easy or pleasant, but the issue still stood and it would remain at the forefront of her mind for days to come. At least until the next asshole walked through their doors.

“How do you cope?” She asks him. “You always look like stuff just rolls right off your shoulders.”

He ponders that question for a second. “Not quite but I figure that this job moves so quickly you don’t really get any time to stop and think about things in any deep and meaningful way. It’s give and take in a place like this, y’know? I guess that’s one of the pay-offs, that you don’t have deal with personal feelings as much when you’re pre-occupied with the next client.”

She could appreciate that. Yet another difference from the size of the company she used to work for. Hopefully one day soon, her confidence and self-worth will catch up with her diary and she can finally feel like she belongs here.

“If you want, we could have a drink later? Talk about it some more?”

“Oh, I don’t think I want to spend more of my energy talking about the Parkers but thanks anyway.”

He watched while she poured the frothed milk into her cup. “Could just have a drink anyway?”

There was a split second where Grace’s mind cleared of any thought before she registers Andy’s gentle inquiry.

“Um…” She thinks. “I…can’t. Sorry, Andy, it’s just I have to finish these notes for Jack and I’m supposed to be meeting a new client later on as well. Plus, Liv’s school report is due this evening and we usually go through it together.”

“OK, it’s cool. It was just a thought.” He nods with a half-smile, trying his hardest to mask his obvious disappointment to avoid landing her with the guilt of turning him down on top of every other emotion she was likely feeling at this moment in time. “Another time.”

They continue standing where they are, their arms brushing by each other with neither body in a particular mood to move away from the other.

“But…” He thinks out loud. “That meeting is over by, what, 4?”

“Yeh, I guess.”

“And you won’t be needed home ‘til dinner, right?” He offers again and she nods, anticipating what he’s about to propose. “So…why not a quick one in-between? A drink, I mean.”

He laughs a little but makes the suggestion like it’s the easiest choice she has to make. The prospect of seeing him, although tempting, acts as a stark reminder of how easy this could be for him. How little thought he has to give to it. How little thought he has to give to her life and her family.

“What? You never had a nooner before?” he toys with her, spying the sceptical look on her face. “That’s kinda sexy actually.”

He realises his mistake as soon as he closes his mouth.

“You can’t be like this, you know.” She says, quietly. “Saying this kind of stuff to me here. Anyone could walk in.”

Andy looks around and sees no one in particular. An intern rushes by but doesn’t notice them. Turning his attention back towards Grace, he registers the anxiety laying just beneath the surface and realises he has gone a step too far.

“I’m sorry.” He says meaningfully. “It’s just…I miss you, that’s all. And I hate the idea of you having a crappy day. I thought I might be able to cheer you up a little bit, if you’d let me.”

She’s grateful for the gesture. She sees him out of the corner of her eye, looking hopeful that she’ll agree. What would this make her, though, if she said yes? She didn’t have the option of lying to him given their diaries were monitored down to the minute and the second for the purposes of billing clients. He likely knew her day’s schedule better than she did.

“It’s too risky. I shouldn’t.” She finally offers him.

“Gracie, it’s OK to say yes. I’ll even have you home in time for dinner.” He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. “That’s not funny. I’m sorry. Again.”

He had never had this much trouble getting a woman to come back to his place before, or even just to meet him for a drink. Sometimes, it was so easy for him, he didn’t even register that he was doing it. Even his puppy-like, blue eyes weren’t getting him far. He didn’t really know what else to say. She certainly wasn’t giving off vibes that might tell him he was moving closer in the right direction but he also knew she was thinking about it and that alone gave him hope.

“Well,” He nudges his empty cup back across the counter, suddenly not interested in the coffee. “You know where I am if you change your mind.”

He nods and smiles at her before turning to leave the room, and Grace to her thoughts.

“Right, that’s me.” Andy announces brazenly as he strides towards them. It had just gone half past three and the place was still bustling with activity.

He throws his long, woollen coat over the same arm that is carrying his bag, and reaches over the desk beside Evie to grab for the large padded envelope currently awaiting him, his surname scrawled on it in thick, black marker pen. It definitely wasn’t paperwork but Grace didn’t have the chance to guess what it could have been holding before he swipes it under his free arm.

“If anyone asks, I’ll be out of contact for the rest of today.” He tells Evie. “Just take messages and tell them I’ll get back to them tomorrow or something.”

All of a sudden, Grace felt like she was under a spotlight. It was ridiculous because all Evie did was take the instruction and type a code into the system that redirected his phone line.

“I guess I’ll see you guys later.” Andy smiles at them both and strides out of the reception before turning to head down the wide, glass staircase.

Grace remains rooted to where she’s standing, signing forms Evie had accosted her with five minutes earlier. She can’t describe the feeling exactly or what it was that made her do it, but something stirs her from the paperwork to look up just in time to watch Andy descend the staircase behind where Evie is stood. Fleetingly, they make eye contact before he disappears entirely from view and, not for the first time, Grace feels a pit in the bottom of her stomach that she can’t name. It was a slight, almost imperceptible ache she had long since been unable to put a label on. There was a time when she would have relished the feeling, she remembers, like when he looked at her across the lecture room and she would feel like the only human being alive.

“I bet you anything it’s for a date.” Evie hints conspiratorially, snapping Grace’s attention back towards her.

“What? You think so?”

“Hell, yeh! He never normally leaves earlier than anyone else around here. It has to be for something important.”

“Maybe it’s just a meeting?” Grace suggests, trying to find a way to back out of this conversation.

“Could be but have you noticed he seems to be a little distracted these days? There’s definitely something going on.” Evie poses.

Grace wasn’t sure how to respond. Evie was clearly invested in the comings and goings of everyone in the office and while most of the time it was at least entertaining, this definitely felt close to crossing a line.

“Oh!” Evie starts again, practically shocking Grace in the process. “I wonder if it’s to do with his ex? She’s been around lately with the de la Salle thing. You gotta admit that’s an interesting thought, right? Reckon they might be giving it another go?”

Evie taps her pen against her chin, eyes wide open and genuinely interested, looking at Grace in the hope she might give something away.

“Um, yeh, maybe.” Was all Grace could say, rather pitifully. She regretted it instantly, almost as much as she regretted the faint suggestion of jealousy creeping into her pulse.

Evie playfully rolls her eyes at Grace, realising she isn’t going to get any further with her investigation at that moment in time. She turns away and taps something onto the screen in front of her, providing Grace with the perfect opportunity to slip away and back into the safety of her office.

Finally getting to vacate the building later that afternoon felt more freeing than usual. She could leave the Parker case behind, in a filing cabinet in someone else’s office, and not give it a second thought until she absolutely had to. Jack had asked for her views on a couple of points but they would all depend on the outcome of various interviews and whether anyone would want to file a formal complaint against him. That was most certainly a job that could wait another week or so and she felt her shoulders relax as she drove further and further away from the office. There was plenty of work left that week she had to complete but it was work she knew she could do with ease. They were cases where both sides would at least be appreciative of her help without calling her the ‘c’ word.

Traffic was as trouble-free as it usually was. She could almost drive home with her eyes closed now although for obvious reasons she wouldn’t attempt it. For one thing, Dan would use it as the excuse he needed to finally buy a new car and she had been trying to get him to agree not to do so for the time being. At least not with Liv’s potential college days looming on the horizon. That was yet another thing she would try to put out of her mind for a little while.

The only thing that would in fact save her from the day she had experienced was Andy closing his front door behind her and pouring her a small glass of wine. He had texted her before she left the office, as one final attempt at getting her alone for an hour or so, but still expecting to be disappointed. Now as it had once been, however, she felt he would understand.

“I’m surprised to see you.” He says to her as he hands her a tall wine glass and turns to places the cork back into the neck of the bottle.

“Are you?” She questions him disbelievingly. “I didn’t think much surprised you these days.”

He tilts his head in thought as she wanders around his apartment. She takes in the grand piano and some black and white photographs leaning against the wall but she doesn’t linger on one thing for too long before moving towards his couch and settling down comfortably. She was immediately thankful to take the weight off her feet in something that didn’t have a desk in front of it.

“I guess I just didn’t think you would change your mind.” He says.

“What, and miss out on Chile’s finest?”

She sips the wine appreciatively and he smiles before joining her on the sofa. It was a poor attempt at a joke and she knows that as Andy’s eyes narrow, inquisitively posing an unspoken question. He’s close by her side again, just as they were in the office some hours earlier, shooting the breeze as only they knew how to by this point. She didn’t feel so uncomfortable this time.

“I hope you’re not still thinking about Parker.” He asks her, worried still for his friend.

“No.” she sighs. “No, you were right. If someone as powerful as Jack can find him distasteful then it’s a pretty normal assumption everyone else would as well. Safety in numbers, I guess.”

“Yeh.” He nods. “It’s the thing I like most about the place to be honest with you. We’re definitely a family.”

Grace leans her head back onto the back of the sofa with the cushion just meeting her under her neck and giving her yet another reason to feel restful and content.

“So why are you here?” he inquires after a beat. “If it’s not Parker you’re thinking about?”

She didn’t know how to answer that truthfully, but she knew she likely wouldn’t have to. Judging from the way he was looking at her, his eyes now softer and more soulful than she would see at work, he had made up his mind already. He seemed to understand her. It was yet another thing that gave her that undefined feeling.

He places his glass on the table, then hers, and she thinks she sees him briefly contemplate his next move. He places his hand on her leg just above her knee and moves in close to touch his lips to hers.

It was as soft as she remembered, his typical move so as not to put pressure on her in case she realised she had made a horrendous mistake coming here and would want to duck out of the apartment as painlessly and as hastily as she could. She surprised herself by her decision to meet him half way and give him a spark of encouragement that would allow him to move into her space a little more.

Andy had always been a good kisser. He was probably her first proper kiss; proper in the sense that he knew what he was doing and often took the lead so she never had to question whether he was into her or not. She never had to doubt what he wanted from her. A man could easily give himself away sometimes while kissing, she knew that much.

They didn’t do this so much at the hotel, both of them a little too emotional and drunk to hold back from placing their hands wherever they could. But this, this was lovely. Familiar. In the years that fell between them meeting for the first time and being here now, sinking into his chenille couch, she found herself comparing other kisses to him. Not every kiss and certainly not wilfully, but sometimes it just happened and she couldn’t stop herself.

She loved the way his hands would move up her body and into her hair, the heat from his fingers tenderly massaging the back of her neck. They moved around until, without realising how he had managed to do so, she was in his lap. His hands gripped at her waist and she kissed him desperately until she couldn’t do so any longer and pulled away from him quickly, feeling a little off-balance in the process.

She saw the look of confusion in his eyes, trying to work out what was going on. It was like she had left her body and was witnessing herself from somewhere else in the room.

She stands up and away from him, an inch too far for him to reach out and touch her again. He doesn’t want to, though, not just yet anyway. He wants to see what she does next. He wants to know if she wants this as much as he does.

She’s thinking. Her breathing steadies for a second as she spies the look of intent in his eyes, questioning her as to whether she’s thinking about walking away from him and hoping against hope that she doesn’t.

She takes a deep breath and reaches for his face with her hands, kissing him again and leaning down over him to close the gap. He’s surprised by her move before she feels his hands reach out towards her hips and gently pull her down again, guiding her leg to his side so she can move comfortably back into his lap. The simple black, mid-length skirt she was wearing was not the most ideal item of clothing for this position and it awkwardly hitches up around her thighs when she finally reconnects with his body.

They stay in this position for what feels like an eternity, just relaxing into each other’s embrace and enjoying the feeling of being intimately connected.

Somewhere she hears her phone vibrating and it shakes her from her surroundings.

“Hey,” he breaths against her neck before reluctantly pulling away to look into her eyes. “Don’t answer it.”

He tempts her with a soft kiss to her cheek and the side of her lips until she appears to forget her phone. It vibrates a couple more times before whoever is calling her ultimately decides to give up. The silence returns except for their breathing, getting heavier and heavier as they fall deeper into each other.

He grips her waist and she thinks he’s about to stand up with her still connected to him but instead and with surprise, he carefully moves her backwards onto the rug beneath them with such ease, she feels like she weighs less than a feather. Her hands reach for his belt, fumbling slightly until he backs away from her.

“Not yet,” he breathes, forcing her to pause her movements.

He kisses her neck slowly, biting gently underneath her ear and savouring her sweet, perfumed smell and every inch of what was uniquely her. He made his way down her body, grazing his lips over her neck and breasts before feeling her tummy rise and fall as her breathing became more erratic in anticipation. He slid his body down over hers and pushed her skirt further up until it gathered around her waist revealing the dark purple underwear she had picked out that morning. That she had no clue what was awaiting her that day, that it was likely only her regular choice of underwear, seemed to make him lose his mind.

He positioned his shoulders under her thighs and gazed at the beautiful sight between her legs. He kisses the inside of her right thigh, then her left. He revelled in the small movements she was making under his hands, taking in her gorgeous scent that seemed to cause him to salivate at the prospect of reclaiming what had been his all those years ago. His and only his.

With his long, flat tongue he finally tasted her. Her moans were anything but muffled. Her back arched above him with the added intensity as on and on, he licked and swirled his beautiful tongue upon her helpless body, his fingers tempting her. He could make her cum quickly if he wanted to, he always could, but where was the fun in that?

After their first reconciliation, he had been left struck blind by how sensual she had become in the years since he had last known her so intimately. Had she discovered that with him? Had he left an indelible impression upon her and now Dan was reaping the rewards? How many men had experienced that kind of love since he had? He had to find a way of quickly shaking those thoughts from his mind.

He continued kissing her, his mouth nearly stopping her breathing as his other hand moved over her hip and gripped at her side hard. In seconds, spasm after spasm rocked her body with overwhelming ecstasy. He listened to her cry out and he held her down until she wordlessly begged for him to ease up on her so she could catch her breath back.

He could have stayed where he was all night, drawing orgasm after orgasm from her body, but he knew he had very little time with her now and he wanted one more time to hear her gasp into his ear as he entered her.

He moves up her body, kissing slowly as he goes, and reaches out to run his hand through her hair, caressing strands away from her eyes. He likes the way she’s looking at him as she grazes her thumb over his bottom lip, playing with the moisture just lingering there until he kisses the pad of her finger, licking it away.

He’s so close to her that she can feel his eyelashes on hers. He glances between her eyes and her lips before kissing her once more.

“I love you, Gracie.” He whispers.

She wishes she hadn’t heard it.

She closes the front door behind her, lazily dropping her bag on the floor by her feet so she can remove her coat. She quickly looks away from the hallway mirror after she catches sight of herself.

“Long day?” Comes Dan’s calm and quiet tone.

She looks up to find him standing in the kitchen doorway, a tea towel draped over his shoulder and glass of beer half drunk in his hand.

“Yeh, something like that.” She hates herself for lying so blatantly to his face. “What’s up?”

He flicks his eyes towards the staircase in front of her. She follows his view but remains confused. The fretful expression on this face narrows it down to one of two children, but she’s definitely going to need him to use more words.

“You might wanna to go talk to Liv.” He tells her without needing to hear her ask. “It’s not been a great day.”

“Is she OK? Her report can’t be bad.” Grace probes him, sliding her shoes off so she can climb the stairs without alerting her daughter.

“No, it’s not that. Dylan dumped her this afternoon.”

“What?” She whisper-shouts. “Why?”

“Said they were moving in different directions apparently.” Dan shrugged. It was the most he could get out of Liv before she ran upstairs and slammed her bedroom door shut. He knew it wasn’t worth his time getting her to open up to him. “Tried calling but your phone rang out.”

“Different directions? They’re 15!” Grace glossed over his comment but couldn’t stop the guilt slowly coming.

“I don’t know what to tell ya.” Dan shrugs again. “She should talk to you, though.”

Grace looks to the stairs again but Dan heads back into the kitchen. As she slowly heads up, she passes Sam’s bedroom to hear if and what he was playing on his computer. She rounds the corner and comes to the sign indicating Liv’s bedroom, highlighted in purple glitter, that Liv had made when she was six years old. Grace had been reluctant to throw it out but secretly Liv hadn’t minded all that much.

Grace couldn’t believe this was the same child who was now having her heart broken by some boy neither she nor Dan rated all that much (but couldn’t exactly say so out loud). Dylan was a popular kid in school thanks to his basketball skills but he also had a low attention span and Grace had a feeling something like this would happen sooner or later. All of that came from meeting him on one single occasion.

“Hey gorgeous…” Grace carefully announced her presence by peering her head around the door frame.

Liv was curled up on her bed, lying on top of her duvet but wrapped in the blanket she had knitted for herself last summer when the weather had been appalling. She didn’t seem to be crying but the tissues lying clumped on the floor told a different story.

Grace shut the door behind her and made her way towards the bed. She climbed on top of the duvet, laid down close behind Liv, and wrapped her arms around her so she was the bigger spoon. Liv didn’t move and allowed her mom to hold her tightly. If there was one thing Grace knew and one thing that Liv had evidently inherited from her, it was that sometimes you didn’t want to talk all that much. You just wanted to lay still, be peaceful, and cry.

They stayed like this for about ten minutes before Liv turned in her mother’s arms bringing them face to face.

“You’re gonna tell me I’ll get over it, aren’t you?”

“No.” Grace responds simply, and she thinks she can see a look of surprise in her daughter’s eyes. “I’m not gonna tell you that because it’s not going to help.”

Liv wipes her hand over her cheek, cleaning away the last remnants of the tears that had started to dry on her skin. Liv had such beautiful skin, like her mother and her grandmother before her. It was a shame whenever she felt she had to cry.

“He couldn’t even give me a decent reason.” Liv said, without much push from Grace. “Just said it had run its course and that it was better now because we’d be doing different things at college. Like, he didn’t even give me a chance to make it work.”

It was possibly the smartest thing Grace had ever heard come straight from his mouth but she had to try her hardest not to look so surprised.

“I really love him, mom. I thought he loved me, too.”

Grace takes a deep breath and tucks her hand under her cheek. Her other hand reaches out to swipe strands of hair from Liv’s face that were getting stuck in her eyes.

“You shouldn’t feel bad about that, Livvie. Love is an amazing thing. It shows your maturity and your heart and even if he doesn’t understand it himself, you should be proud you felt something for another person.” Grace explains.

“Is this what it’s like, though? First love or whatever you call it? ‘Cos I don’t think I can hack it.”

Grace sighs. She really didn’t want to have this conversation with her daughter while she was still young. She didn’t really want to have it all, not at least until she was twenty-five and possibly only just starting to think about love for the first time having spent her youth focussing on working really hard and graduating valedictorian with a Doctorate at Yale. The dreams you hold for your children, she thinks.

“It’s very complicated, I’ll give you that. It’s not as simple as love exactly, it’s more like a lot of different emotions and feelings and some can feel very confusing. It can be uncomfortable but it’s also a lot of fun and it can be exciting, too. There’s nothing more remarkable that a first love.”

Grace smiles at her daughter, who manages to reciprocate a small smile back. She’s trying, Grace thinks. She was hoping to get through to her a little bit tonight so it wouldn’t hurt as much in the morning. Then, perhaps, she might see a light at the end of the tunnel.

“What was yours like?”

Grace thinks for a second, Liv hanging on to what was coming. “I think everyone’s experience is a little different but these things stay with you, no matter how much you get passed it. It’s why they say you always remember it.”

“That sucks.” Liv mutters. “I don’t really wanna remember this, if it feels this bad.”

Liv sniffles away another tear and Grace runs her hand soothingly over her hair.

“Did it hurt for you as well? Did you have your heart broken when you were my age.”

Still running her hand gently over her daughter’s head, Grace thinks for a second.

“Well, I was perhaps a little older than you are now but that doesn’t really matter. It won’t always hurt as much as it does now, though, I can promise you that.”

“Maybe it’ll tell me what to do next time, right? So it’ll be better?”

“Yeh, maybe.”

It was the best Grace could give her daughter. Liv was savvy and she likely wouldn’t have accepted anything else. She was emotionally very mature for her age. Grace knew as much when, years earlier, she witnessed her comfort her three-year-old brother after they lost their pet rabbit. Every once in a while, she would go back to that time, listening outside his bedroom door as Liv cuddled him and told him Betsy was going to an awesome place where she would be spoiled rotten with treats.

“It must have been cool when you eventually met Dad.”

“Of course. He gave me you and your brother.”

Liv sighs and her eyes start looking a little tired. Nothing like crying to completely exhaust you.

“It doesn’t matter so much how you get there,” Grace starts. “But you should never close yourself off to new experiences life will throw at you. It won’t feel like it now but there’s so much out there waiting for you, Livvie, and I just know you’re gonna have a wonderful life. With someone wonderful, too, whoever it will be.”

“And when you find the right person, you don’t think about the other one anymore.” Liv responds, sleep creeping its way into her voice. It wasn’t so much a question as it was a personal thought to herself, one that seemed to give Liv some relief.

So Grace didn’t question it.

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