he genuinely loves her but she still sees their marriage as part of the job

simon imagine - always you

“After everything…I’d still choose you.”

The ceremony was beautiful. It was eccentric; bright and modern, everything you could expect from Josh and Freya. 

I didn’t get to congratulate the bride until the after party. She had seemed incredibly overwhelmed and busy, and I didn’t want to add to it. I wanted to keep my presence quiet. Once I’d spoke to her, I could go. 

When she saw me her jaw dropped. She engulfed me in a hug instantly, her eyes glossing over, tears threatening to ruin her expensive looking makeup.

“Y/n you came! I’m so glad you came!”

I reciprocated the hug. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Frey.”

When she eventually pulled away I held her at arms length, admiring her dress. It was a beautiful floor length ensemble, eggshell white and classy, accentuating her newfound curves perfectly. She’d gotten somewhat thicker in the years since I’d seen her. It suited her unbelievably; maybe that’s what being in love does to a person.

“Well I’m glad you came,” she spoke before I could compliment her, making me realise I’d previously been silent, and I couldn’t help but feel a little rude. “I have something to tell you.”

My heart rate sped a little as Josh joined her side. He pulled me in for a short but warming hug, one I got the feeling would be a lot longer if he hadn’t overheard Freya’s previous sentence. Knowing she was still talking he only mouthed a hello before snaking his arm protectively round her waist. Once again I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the love in which they had both been blessed with. I really was a bitter soul.

“What is it?” I asked, mainly to silence my intrusive thoughts. The couple looked at each other.

“I’m pregnant!” 

This time it was my turn to well up, tears threatening to fall from my eyes as a range of emotions overwhelmed me. Mainly it was pride. Happiness, hopefulness. A little part of it was that stir of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. That’s what happens when you walk around with a broken heart - it poisons all your other organs too.

I pulled the couple in to hug them.

“Congratulations you guys. I love you both so much.” I gushed into both their ears, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “How far gone are you?”

“She’s only about three months,” Josh explained.

“You look good for it.”

“Doesn’t she just.”

The conversation seemed to die down quite quickly, and I was well aware that my time here was coming to an end. I contemplated leaving now. I’d said my congratulations; everything else was unnecessary. 

“Well, I should probably get going.” I began to excuse myself when Freya put a hand on my shoulder. She pleaded for me to wait, and so reluctantly, I did. Her eyes poured into mine.

“Have you seen him yet?”

It was as if the breath had been knocked out of my chest, and I tried to ignore Josh’s quiet scolding of Freya intended to be out of my earshot.

“You don’t have to talk about it, Y/n.” He attempted to reassure me, and I shook my head gratefully.

“No, it’s fine. I haven’t.”

I knew she meant Simon. I knew he would be here tonight - of course, he had more place here than I did. But I hoped I would be able to escape before there was any risk of bumping into him. I had no idea what I would say - or do - or if he’d be here alone. The thought of him with a date made my chest hurt, and I wanted nothing more than to leave.

“How long has it been?” Freya pressed further, her voice cautious. Next to her Josh looked incredibly uncomfortable. You and me both, I thought, feeling my throat start to tighten a little.

“It’s been five years.”

Both their eyes softened and I felt tears threaten my own once again. I looked to the floor. Five years sounded almost longer than it felt. It had been an incredibly lonely five years too. I lived on my own now, falling asleep each night next to nothing but silence. I was growing older - old enough to know my biological clock was running out, as my Mum put it. But I hadn’t even tried to get to know someone else. There was no point; if it wasn’t Simon, I didn’t want it. Not even so much because I missed him - although I did, painfully so - but just because I don’t have the strength to risk it again. It wasn’t that sad. I’d come to reason with the fact that I would never love again a long time ago.

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“Freya, I think we should sit down, the speech is about to start.” Josh suggested, trying to almost steer his pregnant wife away as he shot me sympathetic eyes. I gave him back a small smile.

“Wait, okay I’m sorry,” Freya blurted out and as she turned to me I found it increasingly hard to look her in the eye. “Please don’t run again Y/n.”

“Freya-”

“Please. Just please stay for the speeches.” Her cheeks reddened a little, her voice cracking against her will. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

I didn’t speak for fear of breaking apart in front of her, only nodding a small confirmation before someone came to take her away. I returned to my table as the sound of a glass being tapped sounded through the hall. 

The speeches were nice. They were somewhat repetitive - a little cliche, but nice nonetheless. Tobi’s had been my favourite so far, a confession of his own fondness towards the two, how he’d been rooting for the couple since before they were even rooting for themselves. Freya was positively glowing as several different people complimented and admired her. Eventually it looked as if it were all about to be over, and I silently counted my blessings as people began to talk amongst themselves. Perhaps if I excused myself subtly I could get out. I’d text Freya a goodbye, she’d forgive me. She’d understand why I’d run. It was all I knew how to do.

Just as I thought it was over, Josh stood. 

“Wait, sorry everyone, there’s one last speech. He’ll be here in a minute, please entertain yourselves or grab a free drink from the bar whilst you wait.”

I smiled at his professionalism even on his own wedding day. Josh never let the dad figure slip. I couldn’t get over the fact that he really would be a Dad now. I don’t know why I found it surprising - that’s what happy relationships progress too. Marriage and children and eternity. I guess a little part of me just felt jealous that neither of them would ever have to experience what it felt like to be alone.

“There he is!” A voice from the head table shouted, and everyone’s heads turned. There he was indeed.

Stood on the stage, his slender fingers wrapped around a microphone, his face supporting a large, awkward but sweet smile was Simon. I felt my heart fall from my chest. He had aged incredibly, his skin matured and clear, his hair an unnatural white that only he could pull off so well in a dark, classic suit. He looked taller, more muscular, more confident even. He looked more himself. I guess only one of us had healed after that winter night five years ago, and it hadn’t been me. I looked down at my ring finger. Sometimes it felt like the tanline was still there, a slightly paler band just above where my knuckle is, as if my entire hand is taunting me. Seeing Simon up on that stage felt somewhat like a mockery. We had come so close, and a tiny part of me couldn’t help but wish that it was me sitting where Freya was. I shook off this thought as Simon began to speak.

He introduced himself well, really presenting the skills that his job had taught him over the years, if that was indeed still his job. I couldn’t remember the last time I had opened up youtube, or any social media for the matter. Even this invitation had been something I’d received in the post. I’d really tried to remove myself entirely. To remove him. The room fell entirely silent as his real speech began, all the Simon-esque jokes and taunting over and done with.

“Look, in all realness,” he spoke in his deep and endearing voice, sending soundwaves right through my chest. “No one needs me to stand here and say the obvious. I don’t need to tell you how good you look together, or how incredible the ceremony was, because you know that already. Josh, you don’t need me to tell you how much you’re punching with Freya because, well, you must know it.”

The crowd laughed as Josh rolled his eyes, probably stopping himself from acting a little less professionally. Simon blew him a kiss before continuing.

“The only thing I wanna say is good luck. And I genuinely mean that.” Josh watched with genuine intrigue, however Freya’s eyes seemed to be elsewhere, as if she were searching through the crowd. “You two together have a love that is so comfortable and homely, whilst also being so firey and spontaneous, and it really does keep the world spinning. It’s the type of love a man only gets once in his lifetime.”

The crowd cooed slightly as Simon momentarily looked at the floor, and I wondered if they were as in love with him in this moment as I was. 

“A love where you’re so content and happy with eachother as you are really does only come around once, and you two have already got it and secured it. And I hope you secure it forever. Because God knows once you let go, it never comes back to you.”

He forced a smile. “Bitter sweet, as they call it.”

Freya was still searching with hunting eyes and I got the feeling I was the prey. As Simon raised his glass my vision blurred, and I knew I had to go. The guilt swept over me faster than my own feet off the ground but there was no way I could stay without choking up the only pieces of my heart I had left all over the maroon tablecloth.

I didn’t plan my exit route, only weaving my way through the tables somewhat frantically, trying to stick to the dark corners of the room. Once I found a back door I ran for it. It wasn’t practical. But I needed the time alone.

Once I was out of sight I pressed my back to the brickwall and let myself fall apart. The tears fell like cascades down my face, loud, messy sobs as I struggled to catch my breath. The knowledge that I would have to go back in in this state to be able to leave only made me cry harder as I questioned why I had even put myself through this mess in the first place. Maybe this is what I was destined for. A life of avoidance and hurt. Because it had been five years, and so far I had learned, the hurt never really seems to go away.

“Y/n?” 

It felt like my soul leaving my body once I heard him say my name. My eyes shot open, breathing speeding up once more as I realised he was close. Suddenly I heard him turn the corner. It was too late to run this time.

“Oh my God, Y/n.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping if I did so for long enough he would just disappear. He’d leave me behind again. But he didn’t. His tone was hard to read, and I could feel even without looking at him that he would be running his hands through his hair right now, jittering his legs out of nerves. He edged closer towards me and I screamed.

“Y/n, please. Please don’t push me away. I’m not here to hurt you.”

Oh but you do that without meaning to Simon, I thought, but I remained silent. There’s no way he couldn’t hurt me. His presence here was hurting me. His presence in my memory had been hurting me every day for the past five years. But nonetheless, I steadied my breathing, focusing on the pavement in front of me.

“It’s all in your breathing. Focus on that. Remember what your doctor used to say, the breathing exercises.” 

His voice was laced with concern, but was still quiet, as if he was afraid I would crack should he be too loud, like a glass window in a gospel choir. I only nodded. Soon enough my breathing slowed.

“Y/n please let me talk to you. Please don’t run away again.”

The words, although maybe not intended to be, came out as more of a question than a demand and I opened my eyes once again, allowing myself the small tester sight of him in my peripheral vision.

“Okay,” my broken voice sounded in a short whisper.

“I miss you, Y/n.”

“Don’t,” I warned, but he continued.

“No, listen to me Y/n, please. Please, for once, just let me in. Don’t leave me out in the dark again, I can’t take it.”

“So talk,” I almost urged, not wanting to hear him beg anymore, the guilt weighing me down until I was being curb stomped by my own conscience. 

“Maybe you should talk? It looks like you have some stuff on your mind. I get the feeling you don’t talk to anyone else so, maybe you should be the one talking.”

He sighed when I stayed quiet, but it wasn’t a sigh of defeat. I suddenly felt a warmth towards him for the way he didn’t lose hope in me. He saw my demons, looked them straight in the eye, but he didn’t run from them. I owed him that.

“There must be something, Y/n. Something you want to say, something you want to know. It’s been five years.”

It sounded even worse coming from his mouth. I still didn’t look at him, staring at my shoes.

“How many people have you been with since?” I whispered, afraid of the answer and unsure why I was even asking. He stepped a little closer, carefully.

“A big fat total of zero.”

The answer surprised me more than what I let on.

“I’m serious,” he confirmed. “There was a stage where Josh tried to set me up with people, taking me out on double dates with him and Freya, but it never went anywhere. Not even a kiss. The other guys always mock me for it.”

I felt him look down at his shoes. I resented Josh and Freya for trying, but I didn’t blame them. He deserved to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me.

“You?” He asked hesitantly, and I almost laughed at the thought.

“None.”

“No one at all?” There was shock present in his voice. Did he really think I was capable of choosing anyone other than him? I shook my head to clarify.

“Y/n…Why?”

Finally I pluck up the courage to look at him. His aqua blue eyes poured into mine, melting me under their gaze and somehow I managed to voice what was on my mind.

“It’s only you, Simon.”

It almost looked as if the words knocked him, but he composed himself pretty fast. The way he watched me, it was as if he was afraid I’d disappear should he let me out of his eyesight for even a minute.

“Y/n why are we dragging this out? We belong together, you know it, I know it, everybody knows it. Why are we prolonging this pain?”

I shook my head, tears threatening to fall for what felt like the thousandth time tonight.

“We didn’t work before Simon, what makes you think we can now? I can’t go through that again.”

He edged closer again. “Because we know now what it’s like to be without eachother. Now that you’re here in front of me, I don’t ever want to let you go again. I’d never do anything to compromise us again, Y/n.”

“There are so many other people,” 

“And I choose you.” He cut me off with desperation. “Even after everything. I still choose you. No one else is even an option.”

Admittedly, I had given in. I was terrified. But I knew I didn’t want to be without him. Now that I’d learned what it was like to live with him, I didn’t want to learn to live without, because God knows after five years I still hadn’t accustomed to it. I knew it could be my biggest risk. But it could also be my only chance at healing.

“I choose you too,” I murmured. Simon moved closer once again, like he was unsure he had heard me right.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked cautiously. I nodded. Before I knew it, his hand was on the side of my face, holding me in place gently. His lips moved against mine so slowly and I drank in every second. This was what I had been waiting for. This was what I’d needed to fix me. 

“I love you, Y/n,” he spoke into the kiss, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. My hands moved through his hair.

“I love you. Always.” 

Thoughts on Male Fantasy Authors Writing Female Characters*

*(mostly. it digresses. this is specifically a comparison among Neil Gaiman, Jim Butcher, George R. R. Martin, and Guy Gavriel Kay–possibility of minor spoilers, although I’ve tried to avoid them. any plot details given should be unspoilery.)

You know, because this wasn’t already written about enough, or something.

I’ll start by saying this: I actually don’t care very much when male authors don’t write women the way I prefer to see women portrayed. Neil Gaiman is one of my favorite authors ever, due to his word-smithing and world-building, and I haven’t found his match for evoking a feeling of eeriness like he’s writing about a world more true than our own. On the other hand, he definitely is a little weird in his descriptions of female characters. I particularly noticed this with the way the witches in Stardust swear by their sexual organs and the attention Shadow pays to Zorya Polunochnaya’s breasts in American Gods. (Shadow. Chill. FFS.) I’m probably forgetting other instances, because I’ve felt this way multiple times in Gaiman’s writing–it makes me go why the fuck is this relevant? and jolts me out of the story. (Some of his short stories get even more bizarrely sexual; there’s one about an STD that changes your personality. It was pretty uncomfortable, but it was probably supposed to be.) Another complaint I’ve seen is that his female characters aren’t that well fleshed-out, but honestly, neither are his male characters. And Gaiman is aware he’s doing it. I’ve read interviews and essays where he clearly states his love for established bodies of myth and stock characters. That’s fine; it’s the way he prefers to write, and in my eyes he’s a damn fine writer. (I love his poetry too.) Heck, the fact that I love it so much despite my preference for non-stock characters (and fewer interjections about breasts) says a lot. Gaiman, good job for doing exactly what you were trying to do.

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“I had a dream and then I grew up.“

WARNING: Contains La La Land spoilers, please don’t read if you haven’t seen the movie!

I haven’t felt so emotionally invested in a movie for a long time. From the moment I saw full-grown adults hop out of their cars in a LA traffic jam to break into spontaneous song and dance, I knew this was going to be movie that described the lens from which I see the world. 

La La Land is about a musician and an aspiring actress who meet and fall in love in Los Angeles. Seb loves jazz and Mia loves telling stories on stage. Both are struggling to make ends meet but as a team, they give one another the confidence to pursue their individual dreams. 

As their relationship progresses, Seb joins a contemporary Jazz band which gives him the security of money and a stable job. His decision sees him parting ways from his dream of opening a traditional Jazz club. Mia attends one of his sell-out concerts, where she watches him play on an auto-tuned keyboard with a pained look of shock and disappointment. 

As Seb goes on tour with the band, they see one another less and less. One night, Mia returns home to a surprise of a candle-lit dinner prepared by Seb. The romantic night turns ugly as Seb tells Mia that he would be touring with the band ‘for the long haul’, and Mia refuses to tour with Seb because she has to stay in L.A for rehearsals. It becomes apparent that what hurts Mia the most is seeing Seb give up his dream to play music that he hates. Seb is hurt because Mia is unable to compromise her work for the relationship. As they argue about their dreams, they are forced to snap back to reality as the smoke alarm goes off. While Seb tends to a burning oven, Mia walks out. 

Throughout the movie, we see Seb and Mia loving one another in ways that they believe is best. Tragically it tears them apart. For Mia, the pursuit of individual dreams was so foundational to their relationship. From the moment she heard him play piano, she was drawn to Seb’s passion for authentic Jazz, and his relentless zeal empowered her to write her own play. She’s strong-willed and follows her heart. As loveable as she is, we almost forget that she’s flawed, and had no hesitation walking away from her boyfriend as soon as Seb was in the picture. 

Although reserved at first, Seb warms up to Mia’s enthusiasm and undeniable charm. Her down-to-earth personality loosens him up so that they end up singing and tap dancing their way through the night. After overhearing a phone call where Mia’s parents questioned Seb’s financial stability, he made the difficult decision to join a band he hated so that he could have a stable job. While Mia believes that love is enabling the other to pursue their dreams at any cost, Seb believes that love may come at personal sacrifice: 

“This is the dream! It’s conflict and it’s compromise, and it’s very, very exciting!”

The movie tugged on my heart strings because I am, and have always been a dreamer. I remember at 10 years old, I won my school’s singing award and was chosen to audition for a solo at the Opera House. My parents didn’t have the time to take me to the audition so my choir teacher offered me a ride. 

I remember that car ride because it was the first time somebody believed in me and recognised my creative talents. (Also because my teacher’s car didn’t have air conditioning, and I had to use tissues to clear the fogged up windscreen!) I really wanted the role not so much for myself, but to make my teacher proud. Unfortunately when I stood in front of the judges, I was strangled by nerves and my throat closed up. There’s nothing more painful than letting down people who believe in you, whether it be a teacher, parent, friend or spouse. Rejection stings. I felt Mia’s pain at each failed audition immensely. 

Mia: “Since when did you care about being liked?”
Seb: “Oh you’re an actress, you can talk!”

In high school I took dramatic arts very seriously. For my high school certificate, I wrote and performed a monologue called ‘True Beauty’. It was based on the character of the ugly stepsister because deep down, I’ve always felt like a villain without a voice. As someone who had to constantly fight against a stereotype that I could not be (the high-achieving Chinese girl), I wanted to give women who failed to meet cultural norms, a chance to share their story. I got very high marks for this project, but it was also the project that marked the end of my dream. Upon applying for university, my parents told me that Western media would never hire a Chinese girl like me.

“I had a dream and then I grew up.” 

I spent the next 8 years in events and marketing, and while I love my work, I’ve never quite let go of my passion for drama. I still watch theatre with starry eyes, because the stage reminds me of a time when I was pursuing something that I loved. With the encouragement of my husband, I applied for an Australian acting agency and to my surprise, they agreed to offer me representation. My agent and my husband genuinely believe in my potential, and yet instead of jumping at all my audition opportunities, I find myself hesitating. 

My husband shuts down every excuse - I mean, what do I have to lose? The truth is, everything. I love that my husband sees potential in me that I do not see in myself. Much like Mia, his way of loving me is to inject me with confidence and to see me flourish in the way that God has wired me. Like Mia, he would send me straight to Hollywood if the door opened! His knowledge of who I am, and willingness to support my strengths makes me feel incredibly loved. 

But I’ve learned to see love as Seb does. While I have dreams to be an actor, I will make joyful sacrifices to ensure that my marriage is never compromised. Because I love my husband, I am willing to build new dreams. Because my husband is the object of my affection, I have reoriented my goals so that we can have mutual passions. Because my husband is worthy of my respect, I am willing to move cities so that he can live out the life that God has called him to live. 

When you love another person, joyful compromise follows. I will happily turn down acting work if it means that my marriage stays strong and I have the time and energy to support my husband in church work. Some may call it conservative or a waste of an opportunity - I call it love. 

Seb’s character embodies joyful sacrifice. Love for Mia transforms his stubborn Jazz-orientated heart into one of compromise. A life with Mia changed his affections, and redirected is life goals. As Seb and Mia part ways so that Mia can pursue her dream in Paris, Seb makes the promise “I’ll always love you.” 

Seb: “I’ll always love you.”
Mia: “I’ll always love you too.”

It’s the happy ending that the audience longs for, but we all know that relationships are so much more complex than a naive promise that we make to another person before real sacrifices are required. 

This is why the ending is so moving - it’s love in real life. How many of us have made rash promises to another that we simply couldn’t keep? Mia is now a wife to another man, and together they have a child. She stumbles upon a jazz club named ‘Seb’s’ (the name that she had once made up for Seb) and for the first time in 5 years, is reunited with her ex-lover. 

As she walks in and sits down with her husband, she locks eyes with Seb and he carefully plays the tune that had originally drew her into his arms. As the song plays, a musicale montage of Seb and Mia’s perfect life where they pursue their dreams and live happily ever after floods the screen. The ending that is only possible in the movies. 

As the musicale montage fades, we’re left with Mia stepping out of the club and giving one final, but longing look at Seb. The director leaves us with the haunting question: is your dream worth the sacrifice? 

As someone who is hardwired with youthful optimism in a broken world, I found this movie both magical and heartbreaking. To all the fools who dream, you will love La La Land, but make sure you bring some tissues because after all, life is not a musicale: 

Here’s to the ones who dream
foolish as they may seem,
Here’s to the hearts that ache,
Here’s to the mess we make.

the1directioner  asked:

How do you know / why do you think that Liam is gay and closeted? He seems so happy with Cheryl - much happier than Louis seems with Eleanor. I ship Ziam/Niam but not romantically because I don't see Liam, Zayn, or Niall as being gay. Larry, however, I believe is real.

First of all, I’m going to say that the way a celebrity “looks” is never a good indicator of anything.  Part of the job of a celebrity is to project a certain image, so anytime you see them in public, especially at work events or times when there are pap pictures or pictures with fans taken, you have to assume they may be projecting a certain image.

I intended to answer this privately like I usually do for asks that are off anon.  I hope you’re ok with me answering publicly instead.  I had to save a draft because it was so long and I forgot that takes away the option to answer privately.  I know it’s long, but do me the favor of reading the whole thing and looking at all the resources linked before you ask me any other questions about this topic.

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Star Crossed Paths - Drake x MC (A Royal Romance Fanfic)

[A little note: You know I had to write a fic after that Drake diamond scene. This is mostly chapter shenanigans and a bit of extra fluff.]

[Summary: On the night of the prince’s coronation’s ball, Riley (MC) wrestles with the idea of fate and all the adventure she’s had in Cordonia ending. Before the night can turn into dusk Drake and MC confronts their feelings for each other, defying fate or accepting fates intentions.]


Originally posted by permeate

Riley has never given fate much thought.

The idea that one’s life is completely set on a path, a specific path. From the beginning to end – ultimately leading to the same place, even before the beginning has ever been written.

Her mother has always taught her differently, taught her the value in where people started. Taught her that it varies from person to person and the most important part of it all is the journey; the rollercoaster of a ride up and not the ending nor its tragic fall. No, fate isn’t supposed exist.

But looking at herself in front of the mirror; Riley has come to the decision that her mother isn’t right. Frankly, she’s never been anymore wrong.

Although her story began in New York, and ultimately her journey takes her across the other side of the world; she thinks what feels as a spur of the moment decision is now the ill-timely conclusion of fate. And as she prepares to attend the coronation ball - she fears the ending.

She fears saying goodbye to it all.

All too quickly everything is beginning to change, to draw its final curtain and the stage they have played so effortlessly on will finally draw to a close. They will all take their last bow and separate. She knows this with certainty; just as simply as she understands that she cannot take a man’s hand in marriage she does not want.

She believes in the cruelty of fate as she slips inside her cherry red dress. She believes that people can’t control it as she adjusts the clasp of it and runs her fingers through the fine material. She believes she’s never been the master of her own fate – rather has spent the last decade deluding herself into thinking otherwise. As she bunches her hair into a familiar bun and paints her lips the proper colour; she believes that fate waits for no one. Listens to no one. Cares for no one.

The knock on her door jolts her from the privacy of her own thoughts. She takes one last glance at the mirror, ignoring tinges of weariness that still lingers before crossing the room briskly. She plasters on a smile. It stretches from one cheek to the other as she opens the door.

Maxwell is there. A radiant grin on his lips as he shoots her an appreciative glance. At his smile of approval, he gestures towards the direction of the hall. “All ready to go little blossom?”

Her smile wavers for a split second before she takes his outstretched arm. “Of course, I’ve been waiting.”

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Royal Pains: The Announcement

This will be a multi chapter fic that takes place eight months into their marriage. It will take you through the incredible journey of Emma Swan and Killian Jones pregnancy. It will be full of love, tears, joy, and of course a little smut;) Should be updating soon!

Chapter 2 and  3!

Rated M

You can find more of my work on Ao3 and FF!



Her whole body hurt. It was like Emma couldn’t get a break. Dealing with the town, being the sheriff, and handling what ever crisis had arrived in between. Being ill was not going to work for her full time schedule. But per her family and Killian’s request she has been ordered to bed, and to stay there.

Of course she didn’t go down without a fight saying that David needed help at the station. David solved that problem. Emma’s now husband is acting deputy, helping out until Emma is back on her feet. Killian argued at first saying that he needed to be there at home to take care of her. It was sweet of him, but she wasn’t ten. She could take care of herself.

Emma did love how her father and Killian were getting along again. There had been some bad blood for a while, but it seemed to have worked itself out as she thought it would. It was even David’s idea to have Hook stay on as a permanent deputy, saying that had extra money in the budget to bring him on part time.

Emma hoped that she would only be gone for only a day or so, but it had been almost a week of this shit. She could barely keep any food down, her body ached, and her temperature was elevated for the majority of the day. And then, like night and day she was better. Just like that, like nothing happened. Emma was back to work and life went on as usual.

Her father and husband were on patrol while Emma and her mother were getting weeks worth of paperwork caught up. They were carrying on normal motherly daughter conversation. Talking about married life and how Henry was doing in school when Emma sensed a familiar feeling deep in her gut. She dropped the files in her hands and booked it to the bathroom, barely making it in time.

“Emma honey, are you alright?” Snow worried through the door.

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13x15

Ready? Cool, me too.

It’s 3am where I am and I played a drinking game with @walshizzle tonight which has resulted in me drinking lots of red wine. The teeth, the lips… It looks like I’ve been feeding on the blood of innocent mortals. So, I’m drunk and this is the warning that there’s going to be a lot of swearing and a lot of typos in the following post.

Omelia

So I start with this because it is the most important part of the episode in my opinion. Quick N.B.- I’m currently depriving myself of chocolate and other delicious things (clearly not alcohol!) for lent because I know that on Easter Day, oh my dear Lord, that creme egg is going to taste soooo gooood. Caterina going on maternity leave was lent for all Omelia fans. 13x15 is Easter Day.

PRAISE, HALLELUJAH, WORSHIP AND THANK WHATEVER FUCKING GOD YOU BELIEVE IN.

a) When Owen asks if Amelia wants to be married to him, the sharpness and promptness of her response says it all. “Fuck yeah I wanna be married to you.”

b) He was always the rock with Cristina, to be the one fighting. And finally, he’s saying “fuck off, I’m awesome”, expecting Amelia to run. AND SHE DIDN’T. I have full faith she’ll fight for them.

c) Owen is so dejected about being in the same argument he was in with Cristina about babies, which is obvious from how he sighs and walks out the scrub room. Lots of people have been saying Amelia is pregnant and whilst I hope to dear God she’s not (purely cos I want them to just be a functional married couple before getting children involved), I don’t believe Amelia would abort a baby.

d) He knows she can’t sleep without floss. sobs uncontrollably

e) That fucking screentime. Her face, HER SCRUBCAP, his face, on the same screen, at the same time. Ask me how happy I am- go on, ask me! I’m going to rewatch this episode whilst eating my body weight in chocolate on Easter day and I’ll live stream the whole hideous event.

Griggs

(I believe this is what the kids are calling it.) So tonight they faced the age-old Spice Girls problem of “If you wanna be lover, you better get with my friends.” For those of you too young to know that reference, search Wannabe on youtube and educate yourselves on ‘90s female pop music and the origins of “girl power”.

In a week that International Woman’s Day was a thing, surprisingly this week was very much about men standing up for themselves. Riggs got into an argument with Alex about how to treat a baby and Meredith was caught between them. She took Alex’s side and asked why he was being an ass, meanwhile he stood by his beliefs that he was doing right by the patient and asked why he blindly trusted everyone over him.

They saved the kid in the end and Riggs asked her how she felt about him. Not Alex, not Maggie, not Owen… We all know the answer but let’s see how long it takes. I’m giving it a week for her panties to be in the backseat of her car again.

Webbery

Richard Stubborn Webber. How this marriage works is beyond me because I’ve never seen two people be so stubborn towards each other. But that’s part of their charm I suppose. He has a bad back. She is being her usual meddling self but yet it’s Richard who admits he never wanted to come between her and her son. 

Japril

Like mother like son- stubborn af.

On one side: April Kepner is so very kicked aside in my opinion. Quite frankly, as much as ADORE Meredith, if you’re in a career like surgery and someone offers you a position as chief of the field, you’d take it. Everyone in that field would. By accepting that job, it was her one declaration of saying, “I’m actually pretty good at what I do thank you very much.” Ever since they were interns, she’s been laughed at and pitied and as much as I hate Catherine meddling in her son’s life and April’s- if it means April sticking up for herself then I’m in.

For instance- Meredith saying “You stole the car” and April just smiling and walking off. Oh, I was so close to slapping a bitch up the wrong way. But actually I’m very English and hate confrontation so realistically I just narrowed my eyes.

On the other hand: Catherine- fuck off. Stop pitting April and Jackson against each other and using her to reel your son in. Not cool, not fair, and sort your own problems out before meddling in other people’s business.

DeLuca and the Interns

Much to my Jolex fangirl’s dismay, Jo is very much a support system for DeLuca these days. It’s nice. But I also hope it doesn’t get in the way of Jolex getting back together. Also, side observation, Alex and DeLuca have the same facial hair. Same as Mark Sloan’s used to be. I’m all for that.

Interns? Residents? No idea. Basically, the people who don’t wear dark blue scrubs. They’re all for Minnick, they’re all loving their job. I like that. Positivity in a workplace is good. Shoutout to Stephanie for voicing all Amelia stans opinions with “You’re back, I’m so happy!”

Elizona

No idea if this is their ship name but I’m shipping whatever it is! I can tell they’re going to try to make Richard an obstacle for Arizona but with Eliza’s eyes and that beautiful smile and that “hiofsa afsap asfsopget aopstat” Polish (was it?!) then I can only assume the attraction will prevail. So yes to all this. I have so missed Arizona Robbins genuinely smiling about someone else we know. S12 she got her slutty groove back with a lot of girls we never even met. S13 she’s getting her sweet ‘I’m in love’ smile back with someone we see and know and can learn to love, and I’m really enjoying it.

Patients

There were some. I didn’t really pay much attention to them because of all the Omelia, Griggs, Webber, Japril and Elizona development going on around them. Sorry. Something about a cooking incident and something about a baby with a heart mummmmmmuuuurrrrr.

SUMMARY

Patients will come and go, Stephanie will always be the biggest Amelia stan, perhaps Catherine’s meddling will lead to a Japril reunion, Webber needs new mattresses in the on-call rooms, Jo supports DeLuca whilst still OBVIOUSLY being in love with Alex, Riggs is so very assuming that Meredith wants him to be ‘all in’, and Omelia are going to be married forever and all will be ok.

You’re welcome. Gotta go brush my teeth. Bye.

Tommy Shelby Imagine

Request: Could you do Thomas Shelby request of having grown up with the Shelby boys but your family moving when you were teenagers and then coming back as a adult to be a nurse in the clinic in Small Heath and running back into the Shelby boys (but having kept contact with Ada since you are like a older sister to her) who can’t help but flirt and basically becoming their go to ‘doctor’ and one night after fixing Tommy up their feelings come out??

Note: Okay so I’ve missed out some parts of the request. I couldn’t fit it all in, it would go on forever so I’ve tried to shorten it the best I can whilst keeping the main part of the request all in.

Originally posted by benedict-in-winterfell

You felt a sudden rush of butterflies in your stomach, the nerves were kicking in now. You were on the train on your way back to Birmingham. Your first time back in seven years. You played over all the different scenarios in your head and all the different things that could be different about Garrison Lane and the people that lived there.

You moved away when your were only a teenager, your parents were having a lot of problems, dad cheating on mum blah blah and they wanted to make their marriage work so they decided a fresh start would be best for you all. You’ll never forget the day they told you, your heart crumbled into a million pieces right there in front of them. You pleaded with you parents to stay “Please, please! All my friends are here, my job is here” but they didn’t listen to you, “oh nonsense (Y/N) you’ll meet lots of new friends in London” that wasn’t really the reason you wanted to stay, quite frankly you hated your part time bar job you had, and you didn’t really get on with anyone at school, you just didn’t want to leave the Shelby’s especially Tommy. You’d all grown up together on the same road and lived next door from each other, you did everything with the boys, they were your family. It had felt wrong but you started to feel different about Tommy, there was something about him, he was different from John and Arthur, he was…special. None the less you left anyway, but you never told Tommy how you felt, it had been so many years since it all happened, the feelings just died away, you don’t think they could exist anymore. Besides, you were sure it was just a teenage crush.

Ada was coming to meet you at the station, you had kept in contact with her, you both write letters to each other all the time, you were like the big sister she never had and even though you were one hundred miles away for seven years, it always felt like you had seen each other everyday, she filled you in and updated you on everything that happens with the family, you both sent weekly letters the whole time however they became less frequent after Karl was born and Freddie died. She was obviously just caught up with everything, and busy looking after Karl, which you understood.

The train started pulling into the station, slowing down, you searched through the window to see if you could find Ada, wondering if she came alone or if she had brought her brothers with her. You spotted her almost instantly, standing alone with Karl in her arms, this was the first time you got to see Karl in person. As soon as the train stopped you dived off with your luggage, she spotted you just as you got off the train.

“(Y/N)” She squealed. Dropping your cases, you ran to her and embraced her in a hug.

“Ada, its been so long. I’ve missed you so much” you choked. You both stayed in your hug for what seemed so long before Ada pulled away, tears filled her eyes and were falling to her cheeks. 

“I can’t believe it, you’ve changed so much!” She smiled

”I’ve changed? Look at you now! At how well you’ve done for yourself” You replied wiping your eyes, referring to Karl.

“Karl” Ada said placing Karl down onto the floor, she held his hands whilst she spoke softly to him “This is your Auntie (Y/N)”

Karl wouldn’t leave you alone the whole way home, he held your hand whilst you spoke to Ada, getting updated on everyone since you last spoke to each other.


You were back at the Shelby house now, none of the boys were in yet, so you and Ada, were sat at the table having a coffee whilst Karl sat on the floor with his toys.

”When will the boys be back? I thought they’d be here by now. They knew I was coming today.” You huffed, eager for the reunion.

“Well…” Ada started “You see…. they don’t actually know?”

“What?” You replied, genuinely thinking you may have misheard what she had just said

“I thought it would be a nice surprise for them” She exclaimed innocently

Before you could argue about it with her, the door slammed. “Ada?! Ada! You won’t believe what Joh-” Arthur cut off what he was saying once he’d seen you, he stood in shock, not quite believing his eyes. The silence brought John and Tommy in the room, both curious to what shut him up.

“(Y/N)?” John questioned “Wha- What are you doing here?” Before I could reply they both ran at you into a hug, you all laughed and said how much you missed each other, complementing each other on appearances. You pulled away from them both to greet Tommy who was still standing in the doorway watching you.

“Thomas?”

He replied with a small smile, and watery eyes. You walked to him, stopping inches away, waiting for him to speak, but nothing. He just watched you. You couldn’t work out if he was happy or disappointed to see you. You held onto his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. You didn’t care if he din’t want to. You did. He wrapped his arms around, you could feel his strong hands against your back and face his tucked into your neck. You had a sudden rush of a million different feelings come to you at once, familiar ones that you had once felt for him. Feelings that deep down, never really left. Tommy pulled away and wiped a tear that had escaped your eyes with his thumb. in that moment, that one little moment, you realised how you really feel about Tommy Shelby. He was your first love, your best friend and you knew that feeling would never go away.


It’s been one week since you moved home to Birmingham and one week since you last spoke to Tommy Shelby. Yep, thats right… its not like he hasn’t acknowledged you at all, its just as little as he can get away with. When you do try to speak to him, its all one worded answer or grunts as well as avoided eye contact. Speaking of ‘avoided’ thats all he’s done to you since you’ve been here. Still though whatever his reasons were for ‘hating’ or ‘disliking’ you, it didn’t change the way you felt, you’d just realised you truly loved him. That feeling wouldn’t go away because of how he’s been this last week. Which is why it explained why you were sitting in the living room at three am. Everyone was in bed asleep, apart from Tommy. He’d gone out somewhere and not yet come back. You couldn’t sleep it was constantly on your mind and you couldn’t stop worrying no matter how hard you tried not to. So instead of struggling to sleep, you thought you’d just read a book or something (even though you couldn’t concentrate) and wait just to make sure he was in ok. At half three in the morning Tommy walked through the door into the living room where you were waiting.

“What are you doing up this late?” he questioned avoiding your eye, he walked over to the cabinet and poured himself a whiskey. It didn’t take a genius to notice the cuts all over is face and his dried bloody nose, even in this light.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” You asked concerned

Tommy turned to look at you confused “Are you- are you waiting up for me?”

“No!” you barked back denying it, although you’re pretty sure that just made it even more obvious you were

Tommy didn’t reply sitting down on the sofa next to you taking a swig of his drink. His eyes looked tired, he looked physically drained. “I’ll just go get some stuff, we’ll clean you up” you said softly

“I’m fine, don’t” Tommy shook his head, refusing your offer

“Let me help you for gods sake Thomas” before he could say anymore you got up and left the room to get your little medical kit you took everywhere with you. You returned a couple of minutes later, Tommy still sat in the same place as when you left. You cleaned his cuts and put some cream over them to help. Once you had finished you let her hand drop to your waist and you watched him in silence, trying to figure out what on earth he was thinking, and what on earth he had just been doing. 

“I’m sorry” he spoke barely a whisper, not looking at you

“Don’t mention it” you replied waving a hand “I do this all the time” referring to cleaning up the cuts “normally they’re a lot worse”

“I don’t mean for fixing up my cuts” he turned to look at you “I mean for how I’ve been acting” his eyes never left yours, your heart sunk, he knew what he was doing the whole time. You didn’t reply, you just let him speak “Its just…. I just, didn’t know how to be around you. I thought things had changed, but when you came back last week, It just all come back to me and i’ve been so…..so overwhelmed I’m trying to take it all in” he swallowed

You cocked your head to one side in confusion, you wasn’t sure what he was getting at “Whats wrong Tommy. You know you can tell me everything. Its me” you placed you hand over his and squeezed it gently. He looked down at your hands before turning back to you, he moved in before you had the time to realise what was happening, he kissed you. It was just like you’d ever hoped it would be.

“(Y/N)” Tommy said pulling away “I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. And when you left, it hurt so badly. But I never stopped and I never will, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I will always, always, always love you”

A tear fell to your cheek, your heart was bursting with more love and joy than you’ve ever felt because Tommy Shelby just made you the happiest girl in the world. You choked back your tears “I was waiting up for you.” the pair of you laughed and kissed again before you held is face and spoke the most truest words you have ever said “I love you too”


I really hope you guys have enjoyed this! Let me know what you think, and if you have any requests, suggestions just send them through, I will try my best.

If you haven’t already check out my Peaky Blinders fanfic I’ve started (x)

Imagines (x)

Request (x)

CS, Jen, Colin, S7-A very specific perspective

So I am pretty sure my collections of opinions are in the minority of the fandom, but just to get them out:

-I adore Captain Swan. They’re actually my favourite part of the show and always will be. I love Rumbelle and Snowing, as well, but I strongly identify with Emma and the type of love and person that works for her.

-I was obviously very upset to hear that she was going to leave whilst the show, Colin, and Killian/Hook would continue.

-That being said, I am happy for all parties involved. I support Jen 100% and I TOTALLY get why she needed to leave. I also support Colin 100% and I TOTALLY get why he seems genuinely excited to play different dynamics with actors other than Jen. As an actor, I get it. It’s kind of the point.

-Also, I take all of their statements at face value. I trust them. I’ve watched all of their interviews and behind the scenes and I truly believe they’re genuine, decent people who love what they do, love their fans, love their family, love their friends, and love each other (in a completely platonic way, of course).

So, when Jen says it was hard for her to leave, and that Colin was sad to see her go but supportive, and that she trusts Eddy and Adam–I BELIEVE HER.
When Colin says he is excited about the new season and while he misses his friends, he gets along with everyone and enjoys working with all of those dynamics and thinks the new script is one of the best he’s ever read–I BELIEVE HIM.

I would never wish someone to lose their job just because I don’t like where the story Is headed. Still, I do feel like Season 7 will likely be the last. I’ve watched a lot of tv shows and there’s just a vibe you can pick up on when they’re close to ending. Maybe I’m wrong, but who knows.

-I am tentative about Season 7.
I am a natural worrier. If I care about something, I worry about it. That’s just who I am. I try to rationalize in my head, but the anxiety always pops up.
If I let myself think about the possibilities (or they just pop up in my head) of what MAY happen to CS (and the worst case scenarios) I do get nauseated. I do hope they won’t do anything that would tarnish CS for me. I don’t truly think they will, but at the end of the day, the only people who can know for certain are Eddy and Adam. They have the control. And some of their “clever” wording and answers (i.e.: “the Hook we know and love”) make me side eye the hell out of them and pump up the worry in my brain.

Yet, Colin’s constant insistence that CS is true love and HAPPY, and that’s ALWAYS going to be the case, does give me more assurance that they aren’t going to mess with them in any way (LI, etc).
He seems to understand how important this is to so many people. I respect his willingness to reassure fans. However, he does need to stop being asked about it so much. He isn’t the writer. Give him a break.

-Obviously, A&E are being really SUPER cagey about what’s going on with Hook, Rumple, and Regina in S7.
The way Colin talked about it in the EW article made it seem like there’s something odd going on with this particular curse. Like maybe this Killian isn’t “our” Killian. Maybe Hook from the past? I don’t know. I feel like the idea that Henry reaches out to his “family” for help and they show up makes it seem like they’d have to be “our” versions. But the interviews with the cast make it seem otherwise. And I think his remark in the EW interview that there is a “big surprise” with Hook in Episode 2 makes me even more confused and curious (and sure, a bit worried). But again, he hammered in the true love/happy bit. So that’s what I am clinging to.

-At the end of the day, I’m just a very all-consumed fan who tends to idolize characters and actors I love (probably because it takes almost near-perfection to make me a true fan). So, I will watch OUAT until it’s over. No matter what. Even if I hate what they’ve done (I really don’t expect I will though).
I am watching mainly for Colin. If Jen were left, I would watch mainly for her.

-If there is even a whiff of a LI for Hook this season, cursed or no, then yes, that will probably tarnish CS for me. Maybe completely. I may not be able to call them my OTP anymore. I dunno. I hope that doesn’t happen and I seriously doubt it will. But again, anxiety.

And while I get that so many people keep saying, “that doesn’t erase the past love story, there’s always fan fiction, you can choose what canon you accept, etc”, I can’t do that. I’m not able to ignore canon. My brain won’t let me. I associate too much with Emma for that not to hurt. And Killian and Emma are not Snow and Charming. I don’t think they could just brush it off as “we were cursed”. I think they would forgive each other, of course, and I am 100% that CS is endgame. But, I think Killian would have one more reason to deeply hate himself for having “cheated” on Emma. And Emma would deep down feel somewhat unsure about her worth or how much he loved her. They would be “fine” in the end. But, I don’t want any interference in their marriage. I HATE THAT.

Again, I’m almost sure that’s not going to happen, but my worries will intermittently rear their ugly head until we’re past the possibility and they’re happily together again.

-I want to be excited about season 7. I probably will be soon enough. I’m excited for the people involved in it. I AM interested and curious.
But regardless of how I feel, I WILL NEVER go into someone else’s blog to disagree with them or tell them why they’re wrong- I just keep scrolling. It’s not that hard.

Truly, I just want everyone to be happy, and enjoy what they want to enjoy.

Don’t send other people hate (especially the actors) and if you disagree with something-SCROLL PAST IT.

The end.

Authority Issues pt. 10

Professor Barnes x reader

Notes: smut, fluff, teacher-student relations, angsty

Summary: Candice reveals her intentions and Bucky is completely done with this shit. 

Description: this shit is on fire

Originally posted by itsawkwardfangirl

Tags: @directionerssalute @minaphobia @jjlevin@starstar1012@amf71010@felteppsters@stephvera@wxnchestervevo@styleswift1989@captainbitchjerkassbutt@denialanderror@angel–radio@a-small-independent-princess @hip5t3r-m3rmaaidd-biitchhh@jarnesbrnes @griever457 @oneshot-shit @anitavalija@isaxhorror @buckyshattergirl @tatortot2701 @lovelypond11

You felt tears burning behind your eyes as you slammed your own door shut behind you. Leaning against the cold surface you let go. Your knees gave out and you sunk to the floor, as a loud sob erupted from your throat.

Why would he keep this from you? Being married isn’t something you just mention randomly in between conversation, but he knew everything there was to know about you, and you thought it was the same the other way around. You’d never felt so betrayed, all the more so because you loved him with every fibre in your being.

Keep reading

The unfaithful Wife ( Jimin /OC)

Chapter 2

I stopped short in front of my apartment, dread rising up inside me like a living thing as i stared at the man in front of my door. I swallowed nervously. How dare he come here? I pulled Jin Soo closer and hoisted him up into my waist , before walking over to the door. Lee Taemin straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall of the door and I resisted the urge to be physically sick. He disgusted me.

“Min Hee yah… Oppa has been waiting for such a long time… Were you held up by something?”

“What do you want?” I swallowed.

“Can’t I come visit my favorite girl? Jin Soo, say hello to uncle..” He said to my son, who dutifully whispered, “ Hello uncle.”

“Jin Soo, come here…” I opened the apartment door and sent my son in , “ Mama will be right there.. Why don’t you go set up your truck.. We can play ??” I smiled and he nodded eagerly, rushing in to find his toy. I shut the door carefully before rounding on Tae Min.

“Stop chasing me. I don’t want anything to do with you…” I snapped. Tae Min ignored me and reached out curling one finger around a lock of my long hair, yanking sharply. I shoved him away but he grabbed my wrists, pulling me flush against his chest. His grip was so strong I could feel a whimper build up inside my throat but I swallowed it.

“Leave.. before I call the cops…” I spat out and he rolled his eyes.

“We both know you aren’t going to do that… Did you hear about your wonderful Jimin? He’s getting married now. I think you can drop your penance now and come to me. ” He said angrily . I yanked my hand away hard, although it hurt like hell and he let go.

“Get out. ” I said, voice trembling.

“Your son is the rightful heir to the Park empire. Do you really want him to grow up like a pauper while some other child takes his place? Come to me and he can have everything he’s supposed to have. Everything he deserves. Don’t be foolish , babe. ” He said warningly.

I glared at him.

“He will have everything he deserves and it doesn’t have to be from you or anyone else. I can damn well give him the life he deserves. Get the hell out of my face..” I snarled.

He grinned at that.

“You’re delusional if you think you’re little cup-cake business is going to turn you into a freaking millionaire. Listen to sense, woman. Park Jimin is getting married. He’s not going to forgive you or take you back…”

I snorted.

“You’re an idiot, if you think I want to go back to him… I hate him almost as much as I hate you…”

“Really? … So you don’t mind the fact that I told him you’re my mistress….”

I froze in place.

“What?” I whispered in disbelief.

“He came by the office earlier looking like death. And that bird-brained fiancee of his was yelling at him about you. i decided to bring some peace by letting him know that you were with me now, so he needn’t worry. What’s wrong? You should be happy…. At least you can have some pride in case you run into him… ”

“You’re disgusting…” I turned around to leave, reaching for the door knob but he yanked my hand away.

“I’ll leave… but you know what always amazed me? How quick Jimin is at believing anything I tell him about you… I mean five years ago, he believed that I slept with you and today he was just as quick to believe that you’re still sleeping with him. He doesn’t trust you an inch, does he?” He said , sounding amused.

I pulled my hand away , my entire body shaking in violent rejection. It hurt so damn much because it was true. Jimin had never trusted me. When I’d needed him the most, he’d abandoned me. But he’d known Taemin since childhood. Even though they were business rivals, they were best-friends . So when Taemin had assaulted me, tried to hurt me in the worst way possible , Jimin had believed his rediculous story of me seducing him. Apparently he still believed it.

I shook my head resolutely. I would not let Park Jimin into my head again. What was done, was done. I couldn’t go through that again.

“Make your choice wisely, Min Hee. One of these days I’m going to stop asking and I’m just going to take what I want.” Lee Taemin warned as I slammed the door shut on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry about last evening.” I said and Mrs . Min waved it off.

“I’m very familiar with how these society brats act, Ms. Kim. I’m not one to lose good talent because of some hysteric and insecure female. You’re welcome to work with me, because you’re good at what you do. ” She said with a cheerful smile and i felt my respect for the woman grow tenfold. I wasn’t used to acceptance. In the early days of my divorce, when the scandal and my face was fresh in everyone’s mind, no one had wanted to give me a job. I shut away the old memories and smiled cheerfully at Mrs. Min.

“Thank you so much. You won’t be disappointed.” i said resolutely.

We spent the next few hours discussing the menu for the upcoming wedding and I had a very bitter revelation. No matter how long it had been, no matter how much I ought to hate the man who had failed me, I couldn’t really bear the thought of him with another woman. It was a shameful realization , one that made me hate myself.

It was almost evening by the time I packed everything up, a blueprint and a timeline framed. There were two dozen different recipes to be perfected and tweaked and i could see a few sleepless nights ahead of me. I glanced at the clock and felt a little bit of elation. Mrs. Min had offered me an advance which would likely cover my rent and Jin Soo’s daycare fee. It was also just a little past five which meant i could take Jin Soo to the park ,give ourself a little treat. i hadn’t been out with him in over two weeks, weighed down by work. My mood perking up considerably, I slowly walked the few dozen blocks to the daycare.

In the beginning I hadn’t been able to afford public transport everywhere. So I’d learned to walk. But now, it was more habit than anything else. I enjoyed walking in the fresh air. kit helped clear my head and brough a modicum of peace in an otherwise turbulent life. But today there was no peace to be found. Tears stung instead.

I still felt upset although the initial bitter anger that I’d had for him had now faded into a dull ache, a sort of hopeless acceptance really. Some relationships, I’d convinced myself, were only meant to reach a certain level. Maybe we were just one of those couples who were never meant to be together at all. It was easier to think of it that way, rather than to endlessly nurture hatred and anger for a man, who would probabaly never accept that he had been the one in the wrong.

But , stunningly, it was the good times we’d shared that were harder to forget. The late night ice cream runs, the walks, the shared dreams and the endless nights of passion. I hjad been young, but I’d truly loved him and in his own way he had loved me too. I was sure of that.  

But it had all changed when Lee Taemin had come into our life. He was Jimin’s best friend , almost like a brother and they’d grown up together before Taeming had moved to Busan. He had been working in Busan before moving back to Seoul, about four months after our marriage. I’d always noticed the way he looked at me but I’d been a naive eighteen year old. Too embarrassed to bring it up to Jimin. It was the worst mistake of my life. Maybe if I’d confided early on, the events that followed would have gone differently.

One night, about a year into our marriage,  when Jimin had been working late. Taemin had come home. I’d been nervous , had texted Mirae to call Jimin…. Because I couldn’t do it in front of Tae Min who looked drunk as well as dangerous. But that had just been another huge mistake on my part.

In the end my husband had walked in on Taemin pinning me to the couch, and to my complete and utter horror he had taken Taemin’s side. I’d been furious and angry that he would suspect me , had walked out on him with dignified anger.

But what i hadn’t known back then was that Mi Rae had always resented that I had managed to land the most eligible bachelor in all of Korea. So she took the opportunity to completely wreck my marriage. And hurtfully, Jimin fell for her little ploy. It took me a few weeks to realize that Mi Rae had told Jimin that I was cheating on him with Taemin and if he left at once he could catch me in the act. I’d been horrified and determined not to let a silly misunderstanding come between us. But it was too late and the damage had been done.

And i had begged. Shamelessly. on my knees, i had begged Jimin to believe me. But all he’d done was throw a cheque on my face and ask me to get out.

I stopped short when I realized that I’d somehow managed to walk past the Daycare center, lost in thought.

“Mommy!! You came fast…” Jin Soo threw himself into my arms and I melted a bit, the sweet smell of baby powder clinging to him . He was such a well-behaved kid, I always felt blessed. I may regret a lot of things about my life but I would never regret marrying Jimin. Simply because it had given me this wonderful boy in return.

“What say, we go to the park? Blow some bubbles, get some dukbokki…” I grinned and Jin Soo’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Yes.. Yes.. Park!!” He squealed and the caretaker, Ms. Lee gave me an amused smile.

“He’s so happy when you come early. ” She smiled. I nodded.

“I’ll try to be early more often. ” i said sincerely.

When I stepped out of the daycare , I got a genuine heart attack.

Park Jimin stood at the entrance, a shiny black Porsche parked near the curb as he stared up at the sky , seemingly lost in thought. He didn’t seem to be there on purpose. So it was all just a hideous coincidence, that he’d somehow managed to stop right in front of the daycare when i was taking Jin Soo out. He was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and jeans and I swallowed  nervously. He looked even better than I remembered and I had a disturbing flashback to how he used to wear the same white t shirt and faded jeans on weekends that he would spend, wrapped up on the couch with me. I had to drag myself to the present, remind myself of all the reasons he couldn’t see me now, with Jin Soo.

Just as I tried to make up my mind if i ought to just run. he turned around and I froze in my tracks , his gaze pinning me to the pavement.

And then I actually made the mistake of turning and running. Jin Soo cried out in shock as I held him closer.

I barely reached a few steps before Jimin managed to come ahead, holding both arms up as he stared at me.

“Min Hee, what the hell..”

“What are you doing here???” I hissed, panicking.

“What the hell a re you doing?” He rasped out. His eyes finally focused on Jin soo, who was staring at him in wide eyed terror, trying to burrow closer to my shoulder. I stepped back a few more steps and Jimin stared at me in disbelief .

“Jimin… You should leave..” I said desperately.

“ He looks like me… Just like me… Fuck, Min Hee….  Tell me it’s not what I think. You wouldn’t hide something like that from me, would you??” He snarled.

I sobbed out a protest. “ You kicked me out of your life, you have no right…”

“Like hell i don’t…. Tell me the truth…” He demanded and I looked away from him, panting. We were in a public street and people were starting to stare.

“Let’s… Let’s talk about this like civil people…” I begged.

His eyes narrowed and then widened when Jin Soo burst into tears. His gaze softened and he looked torn. I quickly pulled Jin Soo close and shushed him.

“It’s okay… baby…. This is a friend… Momma’s friend.. Don’t worry… He’s an.. uncle..” I said helplessly . Jimin gave me a look that was impossible to decipher.

“Like Taemin uncle?” Jin Soo sniffled and both of us froze. Jimin’s face slowly turned black and hard and I shut my eyes in despair.

“Yes… ” I choked out.“ Like Taemin uncle..”

“We need to talk..” Jimin said fiercely and I stared at him. There was no sign of the man I’d once loved. He looked hard and unforgiving , like he wouldn’t stop at anything to get what he wanted.  

I nodded bleakly.

“I.. I can meet you tomorrow. After dropping my … After dropping Jin Soo off.” I said quietly.

“Good. And don’t even think of running away again. Now that I know what you’ve been hiding from me, I’ll chase you to the depths of hell if you try to get away from me. you’re not getting away from me this time.” He whispered.

And then suddenly, chillingly, he reached out and brushed a strand of my hair away from my forehead.

The touch of his fingers to my skin made my entire body seize up.

“Jimin…”

“Tomorrow.”

And then he turned and walked away.

Nurse and President, Part 1- George Washington x Reader

Warnings: mention of death (why the fuck do people always die in my fics) This is also not very history accurate because GWash would be very old, but now I just imagine him young OK

Part 2 here

Originally posted by lafbaguette

A young boy opened the door, his curly hair defying gravity. He smiled at you.

‘Hello.’ You said. ‘You must be Philip Hamilton.’

The boy nodded. ‘I was named after my grandpapa.’

‘Philip is a beautiful name.’ You agreed. ‘I heard that George Washington was here.’

‘The big man who looks very scary?’ Philip asked. You giggled. ‘Why?’

‘I need to see him.’ You said.

‘Why? Are you friends with him?’ Philip asked. He had lots of freckles. What a cute kid.

‘No, not exactly. But I’m a nurse and I have to bring some news to Mr. Washington.’ You explained.

‘Okay.’ Philip finally opened the door totally and you stepped into the Hamilton’s house. You didn’t bother taking off your coat, you followed Philip to wherever Mr. Washington was. Eventually Philip knocked on a wooden door and it was opened by Mrs. Hamilton, you assumed, a handsome lady with raven black hair that she had pinned back.

‘Mama, a nurse is here to see Mr. Washington.’ Philip said, pointing at you. You smiled at Mrs. Hamilton.

‘He’s here.’ Mrs. Hamilton said. ‘Convincing my husband to not kill Senator Burr.’

You chuckled and went into the office. Mr. Hamilton, you had met him before, was sitting at his desk, talking to Mr. Washington who looked at you with fear when you came in.

‘Miss L/N.’ Alexander said. ‘It’s good to see you, can we help you?’

‘I’ve come to inform Mr. Washington that his wife has passed. She fell very badly. The doctors did everything they could but she died half an hour ago.’ You said. It was always hard to inform people that their loved ones had died.

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the lady who wore caesar augustus's testicles as earrings

Running This Town: The Machiavellian Livia Drusilla

If you haven’t seen HBO’s “Rome”, you should. It’s not what anyone would call accurate, no matter what anyone tries to tell you otherwise, but it’s good. And even when they’re doing crazily inaccurate shit, the historical domain characters’ personalities are left intact enough for me to buy into it. But one of the places where “Rome” really fucked up was the storyline concerning Octavian's—aka Caesar Augustus—marriage.

Basically: Octavian sees some chick at a party, he proposes, tells her he likes to beat women because it turns him on—flash forward a few years and plot twist! She’s slapping him around in bed. And he loves it. That, and a little moment where Octavian’s mom Atia—the most inaccurate character on the whole show, by the way—completely slams her daughter-in-law is the most we see of Livia Drusilla. The actress is good. The characterization? The entire storyline for that matter?

Oh, honey. The real Livia would roll her eyes at those shenanigans. Amateurs.

Living the thug life.

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First Impressions - Part 3

Newt Scamander x Engaged!Reader

[other parts: 12]

Alrighty! This is the third and final part of First Impressions! I spent a long-ass time writing this and went to bed at like 5 AM and then had a bunch of weird dreams about the plot so you’RE WELCOME

Btw I listened to the FBAWTFT soundtrack while I edited this and it may or may not have inspired the last bit. I had a lot of fun with this, and I’m so glad that you guys enjoyed the first two parts! I hope you like the third part too!!

Warnings: This one is fluffy, but there is a LOT of angst. Also, conflict and adult themes. Nothing explicit by any means, just brief references, but if that makes you uncomfortable please proceed with caution!

Prompt: Reader isn’t really the sort of person who believes in romance. She sees marriage as something necessary, practical, but not a matter of the heart. She doesn’t really see the big deal people seem to make over “soulmates” and “true love”, so she plans to marry a reliable man, have a few children, and live in security for the rest of her life with a good job and a sturdy husband. She’s engaged to a dull yet financially secure man, and she’s perfectly comfortable following through with the rest of her plan until she moves into an apartment next to Newt Scamander and her entire world is shifted completely.

———————————

Over the next few months, you visited him weekly at least, always with muffins in tow (as they were the only things you seemed to be able to bake properly). More often, you visited him three times a week and the two of you then had dinner together. You had grown used to simply entering his apartment and knocking on his suitcase, and he would open it to invite you down. A lot of the time, the two of you didn’t even converse. You would just wordlessly help him care for the beasts, feeding them and showing them patient affection even when they were being difficult. You were bitten and scratched a few times, especially initially when the creatures were still getting used to an unfamiliar individual in the case. Newt always pulled you over to the shack and sat you down, looking you over like a concerned parent. He would bandage your wounds and rub whatever poultice was necessary on the bite, and then let you go back to caring for the animals. He’d follow you around for a little bit, trying to be inconspicuous but failing magnificently. He felt responsible when he saw you hurt, but after a while both of you learned how to handle it more properly. He got used to having something like an assistant, and you got used to the beasts. He still had a frustrating habit of hovering over you after you were injured, but he stopped fussing so much after a month or so when he realized that you could handle yourself.

You had noticed very early on that he was an extremely introverted individual, and you respected that completely. Comfortable silence was more common than conversation, and you could tell that he appreciated your presence just as much as he appreciated your assistance. Another plus was that you were skilled in writing and grammar, and you proofread his manuscript the best you could so it would look a little better when submitted. He grew more and more accustomed to your company, and you to his. You hadn’t realized how lonely you were, how lonely you had been your entire life. You had associated with a group of friends in school, but genuine friendship and human connection was alien to you. Your friends had been chosen for you, your fiance had been chosen for you, and it was starting to feel like your entire life had been chosen without your input. Newt was the one thing you had that was yours, and it was refreshing. Your father hadn’t chosen for Newt to be your friend, and you didn’t intend to mention Newt to him at all. You knew he would just discourage you, and you were happy. Newt’s friendship made you happy. You had a secret from your father, and that was incredibly thrilling to you: wild, dangerous, and new.

Sometimes, people at work would question you when you slacked at your job. You would often come in exhausted, half awake and running completely on coffee after a long night of poring over Newt’s manuscript. You tended to lose track of time when you were visiting him, but you never really minded. Your fiance showed concern when he came to visit you in your office and caught you napping with your face planted right on your desk, the sticky lipstick you wore to look more professional smudging onto an important document as you snored away. “Are you alright, love?” he had inquired, jolting you out of your slumber. You had snorted in a startled breath as your head snapped up, the document stuck to your lipstick. He had blinked at you, looking surprised. He’d never seen you in such a state, you realized. One of your hands was bandaged from an unpleasant altercation with a beast the night before, your eyes were surely surrounded by dark shadows, and your hair was falling out of its hastily pinned style.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him with a tired smile, pulling the document hastily from your lip and slapping it back onto the desk quickly. “Just had trouble sleeping last night,” it wasn’t a complete lie, as the night before Newt had entrusted you with ten pages of his manuscript for you to bring back to your apartment. you had had SIGNIFICANT trouble putting the manuscript aside and getting to sleep.

His brow had furrowed. “You should talk to one of the mediwizards about that,” he had told you, serious concern etched into his features.

“I might,” you mumbled, offering him an appreciative smile. He had given you a tight nod in response, and then disappeared back to his own office. The more you saw him, the more upsetting the ring on your finger became, and you grew more and more unsure of your–or, more accurately, your father’s–decisions. 

You received an owl from your fiance later that night. You opened the tiny parcel it carried and found a potion to help you sleep and a very formal little letter. It was the first proper gift he had ever given you, save the engagement ring.

Each day at the office creeped by slowly, and you had to constantly remind yourself that you were doing an important job for an important organization. Each letter you wrote, each document you previewed, each case you evaluated, that reminder became less and less effective. You spent your days longing to pet the Demiguise, or to read another page of the manuscript. It was all you thought about. You ate lunch with your coworkers and socialized politely, and they seemed to like you well enough, but the conversations were mind-numbingly dull. You started to curse yourself for ever asking to visit the creatures in Newt Scamander’s magical case; If you hadn’t done that, you would have been content in your new job and in your betrothal, but now all you could do was wonder what life would be like if you traveled, if you looked for beasts across the globe, or if you did more than just read papers all day. You wanted to hate Newt for changing your life so drastically, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate your only good friend.

You found yourself exhausted one Friday evening, spilling all your frustrations about your job to Newt on your couch in the odd hours of the night. You were the specific sort of tired where you started to behave as though you were slightly intoxicated, and hot tears started to pour down your cheeks. Newt was unsure what to do at first, but when he offered you an awkward pat on the back you leaned into him, throwing your arms around his waist for a hug as you continued to cry and apologize at the same time into the collar of his jacket. “This is so stupid,” you had muttered, face fixed on your lap as you pulled away, red-eyed and blubbering slightly with each word. “I have a good job, and a loyal fiance, and a very kind best friend,” you glanced at him shyly, and his face flushed. Your ears felt hot. You hadn’t meant to vocalize to him that he was the best friend you had, and you buried your red face in your hands. You felt clingy all of a sudden, bothersome, and you immediately were completely sure that he only kept you around because he pitied you.

Your sudden fears evaporated as he spoke. “It’s not stupid at all,” you peeked through your fingers to see a very serious Newt looking you steadily in the eye, something that you knew to be difficult for him. “You’re unhappy. If you could change how you felt, you would,” his words were slow and the tone seemed to convey that he was thinking very carefully, contemplating each word before he said it. “These things are good things, but maybe they aren’t good for you,” he studied your face for a moment before his gaze dropped back to his lap. “Maybe you need different things to be happy,”

You looked at him thoughtfully, sniffling and fighting back the tears that pricked at your eyes. They weren’t sad this time, rather touched and overwhelmed. He was so kind, and it was startling to see that someone had taken such a genuine interest in your well-being. Was this how friends were supposed to be? Your friends had always been polite and asked if you were alright or listened to you when you were sad or frustrated, but you had never opened up this much to anyone before. You were at a loss for words, and you hoped fervently that your gratitude was conveyed in your watery (e/c) eyes.

———————————

One evening, the two of you sat together on the floor of the case, your legs draped across his lap and you each reading a novel in silence. Your back was propped up against the bottom of the Bowtruckle tree, and you smiled as one of the little creatures climbed down onto your shoulder. You stayed as still as you possibly could, watching him out of the corner of your eye. Much to your amusement, he moved out of sight but you could feel the poke of his little legs as he made his way up your ear and settled on your head with a chirp. You didn’t notice Newt’s eyes lingering on you as you chuckled quietly, your novel forgotten as you put your hand up to your head and invited your tiny friend to climb on. You lowered him to eye level with you and studied him thoughtfully, mesmerized by his movements and expressions.

“(y/n)?” Newt spoke softly, and you tore your eyes from to Bowtruckle to look at your friend. 

“Hm?” The creature seemed content, and scrambled down your arm to rest on your shoulder. You made a serious effort not to move too suddenly, as you didn’t want to harm or scare the little fellow.

“My novel will be finished soon. Only about a month before I can send it in to the publishers,” he explained, and you beamed.

“Newt, that’s wonderful! All your hard work will finally be published! I’m so proud of you!” you gushed, eyes bright.

He smiled, but dropped his gaze. “I’ll be leaving to continue my research after all of the publishing business is through,” he said gently, and your face fell.

“Oh.” Truthfully, you hadn’t been expecting him to stay forever, but you hadn’t really let it sink in that he would have to leave. Your heart felt heavy. “I’ll miss you.”

His eyes glowed for a moment, and he peeked shyly at you through the messy tassel of hair that hung in his eyes. “I’ll miss you too,” he echoed, and there was silence for a moment. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but hesitated, looking incredibly nervous and fidgeting slightly. He shook his hair from his eyes and looked back at his book.

“You’ll write, won’t you?” You ventured hopefully, looking at him expectantly. “Keep me updated on all your fantastic adventures? I’ll be awfully bored without you to bother,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood a little and banish the lump forming in your throat.

“You’re not a bother,” he said quickly, cheeks dusted pink as he glanced back up from his book.

You grinned. “So does that mean you’ll write?”

“Perhaps,” he said, half-teasingly, and your smile faltered.

“The newspapers will probably update me on your adventures before you can, anyway,” you nudged him gently. “You’re an interesting man, Newt Scamander, and I’m sure the press will catch on to that soon,”

The corners of his lips tugged upward at your flattery, but he was quiet for a moment. “I’d prefer to share my stories with you in person. Traveling can get a little lonely, even with all these beasts to keep me company.”

You were suddenly very nervous. You realized what he was implying, and you ducked your head, pretending to be intensely interested in the way the Bowtruckle was climbing back down your arm. You felt Newt’s eyes on your face and your skin grew hot. You couldn’t accompany him on his travels! Why not? a little voice nagged, and you swatted it away mentally. Because I’ve got a stable job and a commitment to my fiance. My father would most certainly not approve, and on top of all that I’d probably just get in Newt’s way. You snapped at the voice, swallowing hard. “You’ll have to come visit, then! Just let me know in advance so I’ll have time to bake some muffins,” you mumbled, struggling to keep your tone even and light-hearted.

“Of course,” he said, and you could hear the disappointment in his tone, but you knew he couldn’t have been surprised at your response. You got to your feet and held the Bowtruckle back up so he could return to his tree.

“I should probably get to bed. I need to rest up for an important meeting tomorrow,” you lied quietly. “Goodnight, Newt,”

“Goodnight,” Newt replied; he didn’t look up from his book as you left the case.

———————————

A few weeks later, you and the magizooligist had spent the gloomy Saturday tending to a sick and very grumpy Occamy. You had been too tired to go out for dinner, so you had quickly cooked up another pasta dinner (the wizard way, not the muggle way). You had noticed that Newt was uncomfortable eating meat, and as a result you stuck entirely to preparing vegetarian meals. The easiest of these meals was pasta, and you were in no mood to cook something more complicated. You had spent so much time with the creatures that eating meat felt wrong anyway, so you didn’t mind at all.

To the surprise of you both, there was a knock at the door. You froze for a moment, then got up to answer it, praying to yourself that it was just a confused muggle postman with the wrong address. You swung open the door and blinked up at your fiance in disbelief. You started to panic slightly, but forced a cheery smile and got on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Come in!” you chirped, moving aside to let him through. “I made pasta! I’ll go fetch you a chair,” you said, scurrying over to the living room area to drag over an armchair. You waved your wand to summon a plate, and he smiled at you, sitting down. Newt shrunk down slightly in his seat, looking flustered. Your fiance’s eyes were boring holes in his skin, and Newt smiled awkwardly without making eye contact.

“Who’s this?” Your fiance asked, his tone wavering, forcefully polite.

Newt said nothing, so you cleared your throat and rested your hand on your fiance’s arm. “This is Newt. I mean, Mr. Scamander. He’s my neighbor,” you said nervously, doing your best to gauge his reaction. “Newt, this is my fiance, James,” you said in the most cheerful tone you could muster, and you swore you could have cut the tension in the air with a knife.

Your fiance extended his hand, and Newt took it, looking him briefly in the eyes before dropping his gaze. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Scamander,” James said. His voice was dangerously even, and he gave you a quick look of disapproval and confusion.

“Pleasure,” Newt replied. “I’ve heard a lot about you, sir,” he dropped James’s hand, pulling his own back swiftly.

“Really?” your fiance glanced at you again with a tight smile. “I’ve heard nothing about you,”

You fidgeted uncomfortably, refusing to look at either of them. You knew what James must be thinking, and your ears burned with shame even though you hadn’t really done anything wrong. “So, James?” you looked up at him. “What are you here for? A visit, or did you have something you wanted to talk about?”

James tore his gaze from Newt and looked at you. His eyes softened a bit, but both men still looked incredibly tense. “I’m here to discuss the dates of the wedding with you,” he said. You adjusted your ring and smiled up at him.

“I can leave if you’re-” Newt mumbled.

“It’s fine,” James insisted quickly. “Finish your spaghetti. (y/n) makes fantastic spaghetti,” he said, patting your hand in an affectionate gesture. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. It was a lie. He’d never had any of your cooking before, and he rarely visited your flat at all, so he’d never really had the opportunity to. He turned back toward you. “(y/n), I know we haven’t set a fixed date yet, but my mother will be in town in a month,” your eyes widened. His mother lived very far away, and you had never communicated with her before aside from a few letters introducing yourself.

“Wow,” was all you could muster.

“She’s staying for a week only, and I’ve asked her to bring my grandmother’s wedding rings. It would be wonderful to have her there for the ceremony, but I wanted to discuss it with you first. You know, just to make sure it isn’t too soon.” He squeezed your hand, and Newt appeared to almost choke on a forkful of spaghetti.

“Oh. Oh my,” you stammered, stomach churning nervously. You didn’t want this, and your heart was racing.

“I really must be going,” Newt stood up and made a quick scramble for the door. He was gone in a moment, and your fiance looked at you, his gaze troubled.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for a man to be hanging about in young ladies’ apartments at this time of the evening,” he commented, voice low and tone accusatory.

“Newt isn’t trouble, nor is he inappropriate!” you spluttered, taken aback. “He’s  just my friend, honestly,” 

“Is he the reason you’ve been so tired at work lately?”

Your eyes grew wide and your heart leapt to your throat. “What are you implying?” you snapped, wrenching your hand from his. “James, Newt is my best friend. Do you really think I’d sleep with him behind your back? We’re engaged, for God’s sake!” you fumed. you were hurt, and your tone conveyed that quite effectively. Your vision swam as tears of anger pricked at the corners of your eyes.

To your surprise, James’s eyes softened again and he dropped his gaze, suddenly looking very tired. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I trust you. You aren’t that sort of person, it was…uncalled for of me to accuse you of something so serious,” he sounded genuinely apologetic and your rage melted. Ashamed at your outburst, you set your hand back on the table, but he didn’t make any movement to take it again. “(y/n), are you happy?”

The question caught you completely off guard, and you furrowed your brows, lifting your gaze inquisitively to his. His was steady and somewhat sad, and you felt a pang of guilt. You put your face into your trembling hands.

“I know we don’t talk as often as you’d like, and I won’t pretend we’re close. Regardless, I can tell something’s wrong, (y/n). I admire you, and I think you’d make a fantastic wife, but I don’t want you to marry me if you just feel obligated. I want you to want this too.”

You were surprised. Looking back on it, you hadn’t exactly been good at hiding your stress from him. Walking around the office like a zombie, zoning out all the time, being uninvested in conversations, you hadn’t been subtle by any definition of the word. Your heart sank. You hadn’t intended to hurt him. You realized with a bit of hope that nowhere in that little speech had he said ‘I love you’. Thinking back on it, he had never told you that he loved you. Love had never been a part of your relationship, just mutual respect. You thought he would make a fine husband, and you were convinced for a long time that ‘fine’ was all you needed.

“Listen,” he leaned in, gently coaxing your hands away from your face. “I really hadn’t been expecting you to agree to marry me in a month. I needed to see if my suspicions were right, or if your mood was unrelated to our arrangement,” he explained. “You danced around my questions, (y/n), and if I’m not mistaken you looked terrified. If you want to break our engagement, I understand. It’s alright. There’s no benefit for either of us if we’re trapped in a marriage that you detest. Nothing good can come of that. I don’t fault you for not wanting to commit to this,” he reasoned, making it sound so simple and so obvious that you felt stupid for not telling him sooner.

Tears were spilling from your eyes now, and your bottom lip was trembling violently. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “You are a good man. You just aren’t good for me,” you said quietly, quoting Newt without realizing. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, I was so scared,” you murmured, and he traced the side of your face comfortingly with his thumb.

“I forgive you,” he said evenly, and you looked down at your trembling left hand. You pulled the ring off and handed it back to him, and he accepted it, tucking it into his pocket. You couldn’t look away from your hand, which was blissfully bare for the first time since…since the night you met Newt. He got up to leave, but you called after him.

“No matter how I felt about our betrothal, I promise I wasn’t…I wasn’t involved with Mr. Scamander,” you emphasized truthfully. You had never attempted to the boundary of friendship with Newt, and Newt had been a complete gentleman. He turned back to you, looking a little curious but not arguing.

“You’re a good woman, (y/n). You apparently just weren’t good for me.” he echoed your earlier phrase simply. He pressed a kiss to your hair, and then you were alone in your apartment, crying and shaking with complete relief. It washed through your body like a wave, and you sobbed into your hands, feeling bittersweet.

———————————

For at least a week, you couldn’t bring yourself to visit Newt after the terribly awkward encounter he had endured with your fiance. Former fiance, you reminded yourself, feeling nervous and pleased at the same time. You quit your job at the Ministry on a whim, and you had absolutely no idea where to go from there. Rent had to be payed, and now you didn’t have a job to supply the necessary funds. You needed something more than the Ministry, but what? You were anxious, you were alone, and you were a little happier, but not much.

You could feel the inevitable panic brewing slowly in your chest, and you decided to do the one thing that never failed to calm you down and help you organize your thoughts: good old fashioned muggle-style baking. You had the pumpkin muffin recipe memorized by now, and you got to work quickly, mixing the dry ingredients and then combining them gradually with the wet. It was calming and it smelled wonderful, and you felt your thoughts wander as you stirred. You felt a pang of unidentifiable emotion as your mind settled on Newt, and you stirred a little more harshly. Soon, the muffins were all baked and ready to be cooled off. You pulled them out of the oven and turned around, dropping the pan with a start as you noticed a familiar figure in the doorway. You were at a complete loss for words, and you hurriedly crouched to pick up the pan. The muffins were, to your relief, completely unharmed.

“What do you have against muffins? You seem awfully determined to maim them, whether by dropping them or tearing them apart,” Newt commented playfully, and you smiled as you set them on the table.

“I’m their god, Newt. I can create and destroy if I so desire,” you joked back, but the air was tense and an awkward silence hung between you. You didn’t care. You were just happy to see Newt again.

He pulled his signature quirked smile, and walked toward you, a novel in hand. “They agreed to publish it,” he explained, rubbing his fingers over the deep red cover. Excitement flickered in your stomach.

“That’s wonderful!” you cried, rushing forward. You held your hand out to touch it, but withdrew cautiously. “May I…?”

“Please do!” He held it out and you took it carefully, handling it as though it was incredibly valuable. “This is only the first copy they bound for me. The rest will be a little better-printed,” he said hastily, but you didn’t hear. You were too busy staring at the pages. Each of his illustrations danced playfully across its respective page, and you grinned. The drawings looked just like the creatures did in person, you observed fondly.

“It’s beautiful,” you gushed, taking your time to study each page before carefully turning to the next.

“I came to give you this copy,” he said, clearing his throat slightly and fussing with his messy hair. “As a thank-you gift for all the muffins you baked me,” his eyes gleamed. “oh, and for helping out with my creatures.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes, but you were careful not to let them fall. You didn’t want to smudge the ink on any of the pages. You looked up at him, unsure how to adequately express your gratitude. This was the best gift you’d ever received. “Newt, this is the first copy, are you sure…? I mean, I…I couldn’t, not after all the hard work you put into this, and all the time you spent going through your notes…” you protested incoherently, incredibly flattered (and flustered as hell). He smiled, but didn’t argue, and you trailed off, clutching the precious gift to your chest. 

“I also came to say goodbye,” he admitted gently, not meeting your gaze. Your shoulders drooped, and you felt a heavy weight settling in your stomach. “I don’t need to supervise any more of the publishing process, and my contract with the landlord ends tomorrow.”

You blinked at him, and your hands started to tremble. “Newt…”

“I’ll write, I promise, and I’ll even come to visit you once in a while. I’m terribly sorry I can’t attend your wedding, but congratulations anyway,” he mumbled, still not looking you in the eye.

“Take me with you,” you heard yourself blurt out. The words were off your lips before you’d even processed them, and for once, you didn’t regret what you’d said at all. You had nothing to lose.

He looked up at you, surprised. “(y/n), I-”

“I mean it,” you insisted hastily. “I love… I love the creatures almost as much as you do, Newt, and I’d like nothing better than to go with them. With you,” 

“(y/n), your wedding, your job, they’re-”

You set the book down reluctantly. “Gone. They’re out of the picture. James realized I wasn’t happy, we ended on good terms, and I quit my job the day after.” you declared excitedly, wiggling your fingers to display the obvious vacancy where your ring used to glitter. “Newt, I want you. I mean, I want to go with you. If…if you’ll have me,” you finished, straightening your shoulders and standing as tall as you could.

He looked bewildered. “Of course I’ll have you. I’d love to…have you,”

You were both too overwhelmed with information and emotion to take notice of the awkward wording, and you flung yourself forward. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed yourself up on your toes, planting a sloppy, affectionate kiss on his cheek. So that’s what stubble feels like on my cheek! you observed, pulling back slightly but leaving your hands clasped behind his neck. His eyes studied your face for a moment, the proximity almost suffocating as you stared at each other.

You couldn’t tell who initiated it, and to be honest it was probably a team effort, but your lips pressed firmly to his and his hands found the small of your back, pulling you closer, holding you firmly but with care, as though you might break if he held you too tight, but disappear if he didn’t hold you tight enough. You pulled away, breathless, and your eyes locked with his. “That was long overdue,” you murmured, breath ghosting across his skin and sending a shiver through his body. “I’m sorry, Newt. You changed my life, honestly, and if I hadn’t met you I’d still be bored out of my mind with every aspect of my life, but I would have had no idea,” You tangled a hand in his hair, and a sharp exhale slipped past his lips, still flushed from the kiss. “I owe you…so much, and you deserved a thousand times better than I have given you these last few months. I’m sorry,” you ducked your head into the collar of his jacket. “I love you,” you mumbled into the scratchy fabric, and as you said it, you realized for the first time how absolutely true it was. You loved Newt Scamander with all of your heart, and for the first time in your life you didn’t give a damn what your father or anyone else would have to say about it. “They say that ignorance is bliss, but they’re so wrong. I didn’t know I was unhappy, but I was unhappy nonetheless, and without you, I never would have known. I never would have…” you trailed off, voice cracking with emotion.

His breath tickled your ear, and you could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. “I love you too.”

You pulled back to look at him, awe sparkling in your wide eyes and your chest glowing. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? It would have made things so much simpler,” you mused, pulling one of your hands back to brush your fingertips over his collar.

He let out a shuddering sigh as you traced his jawline, your gaze trapping him where he was. He couldn’t look away. “Enough of your decisions had been made for you. If you were going to choose to be with me…” his lips tugged upward in a small, amused smile. “that decision needed to be yours, and yours alone,” he cupped your cheek with his trembling hand, his face filled with relief.

You buried your face in his neck and your hands in his hair and he gripped you firmly to his chest as if he was content staying like that forever, closer than you had ever been. For the first time since your very early childhood, you felt secure and happy, at the same time. The happy was pure, undiluted, legitemate, and the security settled around you in the form of his warm embrace. You had, after all this time, found something that was good for you.

———————————

The house was comfortably large, and Mr. (l/n) was reclined in his study, reading carefully through a fascinating novel that had just been released. He had never known that there were so many different types of magical beasts out there, and he studied each page with interest. He wondered who in the world would had that much free time on his hands (the answer was Newton Scamander, apparently, he noted as he checked the cover for the author’s name), and why they would feel the need to write it all down. He couldn’t deny that it was fascinating, and he made a mental note to send a copy to his daughter for her upcoming birthday. This novel could be useful information for her to know. Beasts information wasn’t exactly common knowledge, and he reasoned that it could make her appear to be intelligent and cultured to her peers.

He hadn’t heard much from her lately. Her last few letters had been a confusing, rushed mess, and he was sure he must have read them wrong. He knew she had broken the engagement with James, as he had spoken with James himself about that, but he was convinced that she hadn’t ‘quit her job’ and ‘run off to adventure with her new employer’. That was so unlike her, he had reasoned, and she was probably just doing some sort of traveling assignment for her job at the Ministry. Who knew what sort of assignments your line of work might demand.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and he drew his eyes from the novel as his wife opened the door a crack. Her face was aglow and her eyes gleamed, a grin adorning her familiar features. “Oh, (f/f/n), we have some visitors!” She chirped, looking mischievous and excited all at once.

He looked at her expectantly. “Invite them in!”

She opened the door a little wider, and his daughter’s nervous face appeared beside her mother’s.

“(y/n)!” He exclaimed, setting his book down to greet her. She leaped forward to trap him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Hello, father!” She cried, and as she pulled away, he took notice of the changes in her appearance.

Her hair was no longer professionally pinned, and the uncomfortably sticky lipstick was gone. Her face was smudged with dirt, one of her hands was wrapped up in a bandage, and another bandage peeked out of the collar of her white button-up shirt. She wore dusty brown pants, rather than her usual blouse and ankle-length skirt. He was taken aback, but one thing he noticed above all else was that her face was radiant. She was beaming, and her eyes glowed. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was much messier than he had ever seen it, but she looked ecstatic. He had never seen her look so thrilled in all of the years he had known her, which was every year she had been alive.

She kept her hands on his shoulders, studying his face for a reaction, and she bit her lip slightly as his gaze flickered to a man who slouched nervously behind her. 

“Father, I’d like you to meet Newt. Newt Scamander.”

———————————

Thank you for all the requests! You guys have some really incredible ideas, and I’ve already gotten started on a few of those!

And thank you so much to all of the people who supported this fic! I really appreciate it. This was enormous fun for me to write, and I hope you like reading this as much as I loved writing it. xoxo -Jamie

Once upon a time, a couple of people (mikkenko and tailkinker-to-ennien, I believe) sent me a request for WORLD BUILDING FICS, which is a favorte thing of mine! Whether building an entirely new world for the characters or building up an established one, I tried to keep the focus on those fics that spend time in the world they inhabit and explore various aspects of it, along with the plot! This often means Jotunheim, but also I am entirely here for focus on Asgard or differing takes on Svartalfheim or Nidavellir or Alfheim or any of the Nine Realms!  (Part one of probably, like, three eventually. orz)

THOR/LOKI RECS:
A Prelude by umakoo, thor/loki, NSFW, jotunn!loki, 10k

Thor is young and reckless, eager to slay one of the ferocious frost giants and have the skalds sing songs of his mighty deed. He sneaks into Jötunheimr, but the giant he meets is nothing like the hulking, bloodthirsty creatures from the age-old stories they tell in Asgard.

Hammer, Horn, and Heart by umakoo, thor/loki + loki/mjolnir, jotunn!loki, intersex!loki, in heat!loki, berserker!thor, mythology, NSFW, 10k

Thor often chose to visit him in the summer, for his golden skin was not made to withstand the cruel winters of Loki’s homeland. They would hunt together and feast together, tell stories and sing songs, spar and play and roam the land. Sometimes they bickered and came to blows, but no argument ever kept them from fucking for days on end, taking pleasure from each other’s bodies until their youthful lust was sated.

Of Gods and Monsters by umakoo, thor/loki, NSFW, jotunn!loki, intersex!loki, 10k

Moonlight shone in through the high windows and the cracks in the walls, creating a pale halo around Thor’s wooden frame. Loki laid his hand on the skillfully carved Mjöllnir that stood between the idol’s feet, tracing the patterns and runes with his fingers. He could not ignore the fact that the Thunderer held the place of honor in the mortals’ place of worship.

Thrice Blessed by umakoo, thor/loki + frigga + odin, NSFW, jotunn!loki, intersex!loki, pregnant!loki, mild childbirth scene, mild lactation kink, fluff, norse mythology elements, 14k

Part four in my Jotun AU series in which Thor and Loki have their first child.

Monstrous Terrain by rayemars, thor/loki + other thor characters, NSFW, jotunn!thor + jotunn!loki, au, 30k

At the conclusion of the war between the Aesir and the Jotnar, Laufey not only takes his choice of spoils from Odin’s treasury, but also claims his eldest son as a hostage. Concealing his parentage from Thor would be easier were it not that an Aesir can’t bear a jotun’s touch–at least not a full-blooded one’s.

a history of things unsaid by circa1220bce, thor/loki, a handful of NSFW scenes, 30.5k

The Kings and Princes of Jötunheimr gain immortality and a ruthlessness unmatched by any other by having their hearts consigned to the Casket of Ancient Winters. Odin, thanks to the Well of Mímir, knew such a ceremony would leave the Casket vulnerable for the taking. Odin brought the forces of Asgard to Jötunheimr on the day Loki’s heart was to be sealed away, disrupting the ceremony half way through. When Loki learns that he has only ever lived with half of a heart, he sets to finish what was begun. But events don’t proceed quite as he plans…

The Fault is Not in Our Stars by MonstrousRegiment, thor/loki + other asgardians, au, 30k wip

After a long and wretched campaign, Asgard has conquered Jotunheim. To ensure King Laufey’s cooperation and later friendship between the kingdoms, Asgard takes home the apparent heir to the throne, Loki Laufeyson. Loki is, unfortunately, anything but complacent.

The Sound of Letting Go by Velvedere, thor/loki + background characters, mildly nsfw, 35k

He was going to do it. Thor knew he was going to do it. He had seen that look before. That look echoed across a childhood of stolen nights and broken trespasses. Of dangers fought, revisited, and conquered. It was the look in Loki’s eyes when he’d made up his mind.

Winter and Spring by Sinclair_Spirits, thor/loki, NSFW, some dub con aspects, some violence, jotunn!loki, arranged marriage, 62.5k wip

Loki is given to Thor by his brother as a ploy to gain Asgard’s army. Much political scheming and conspiracies ensue as Loki finally finds his place in life and in Thor’s heart.

Never Doubt by rayemars, thor/loki + other asgardians, some loki/omc (that’s not really about them), NSFW, berserker!thor, implied child abuse, 35.9k wip

The Aesir won’t accept a king who would ride into battle and be unable to tell enemy from ally; and so when his berserker nature is discovered, Thor and Loki’s inheritances and roles are upended drastically. But some things never change.

Stone Age AU, thor/loki, nsfw, dub-con/non-con in parts (at first), brief descriptions of child death, stone age au, 60k

norsekink prompt: Thor’s tribe destroys another tribe because they couldn’t agree about their territories. Loki, a son of the leader of that tribe, survives, but he gets captured and enslaved.


THOR & LOKI RECS:
What Once Was Lost Returned by DemonQueen666, thor & loki + loki/angrboda + other mcu characters, jotunn!loki, divergent timeline, 74k

Things go very differently on the ill-suited venture to Jotunheim when the Frost Giants notice something about one of the invaders. But their decision to “rescue” what they assume must be a kidnapped Jotun has many unexpected and far-spanning consequences…especially for Loki himself.

The Poison Rain by Lizardbeth, frigga & loki, frigga & thor, thor & loki, odin/frigga, 36k

Frigga and Thor battle Loki to save him from himself. Words are Frigga’s weapons and love is her strength, and she will not surrender this fight.

Hail of Shadows by Lizardbeth, thor & loki + frigga & loki + thanos + malekith + other marvel characters, torture/loki whump, plotfic, redemption fic, 64.5k

Outside the boundaries of the Nine Realms, beyond the protective embrace of the World Serpent, waits a figure of nightmare and shadow, who leaves only death in his wake: Thanos the Eternal. Even as Loki vows revenge, dark forces are moving. Frigga knows only her family united will withstand the coming storm, even as the fates seem determined to rip them apart.

Road to Nowhere by Lise, thor & loki + frigga + other thor characters, thor 2 spoilers, action fic, quest fic, 27.2k

When Loki turns up demanding Thor’s help on a quest to retrieve the All-Mother from Valhalla, Thor isn’t about to say no. But that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten anything, and what better time than a road trip through the backwaters of the universe for trying to talk things out?

Id Est Furor by kaasknot, thor & loki, thor 2 spoilers, role reversal, berserker!thor, character death, 1.8k

“Come to visit me again, brother?” Thor’s voice rumbled through the prison block like thunder in the distance. Loki stepped out from the shadows of the stairwell. “Disasters are always so compelling to watch,” he replied.

Ere the World Falls by kaasknot, thor & loki + frigga & loki, berserker!thor, role reversal au, 5.9k

“The sonic boom ripped through the sky over Asgard’s capital, rattling windows in their casements and scaring clouds of pigeons into the air. It overlapped with a deafening crack, and the combined reverberations, enough to set the dust of the streets shivering into the air, vibrated through Loki’s chest. He frowned, looking up from the doll-like mask of the Svartálfar corpse he was examining. He knew that sound. Catching the eye of the einheri captain beside him, he tilted his head in silent command. ‘It seems my brother has come home,’ he said. 'We should give him a proper welcome.'”

full details + recs inside!

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Why we may never meet Baby Watson

I’ve posted various theories on the pregnancy before, and I still don’t think we have enough clues to come up with one as the clear probable case. Mary’s faking it? Maybe. John’s not the father? Possibly. Stillborn? Parentlock? Baby is an alien? Sure, why not.

Then I started thinking about the few times from the end of TSo3 onward that the baby is actually mentioned. And from a writer’s perspective, one thing started to stick out. But that thing is…well, a bit not good.

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south falling

Jake hates goodbyes. just something i wrote after the season finale destroyed me. posted on ao3 here.

“So. Putting the moving plans on hold for a little bit.” Jake tries to smile, something he knows he’s usually very good at, but it feels like his face is crumbling, despite it.

The car that will take Jake and Holt to the airport is waiting some ten metres away, the suitcases in the back, an officer in the driver’s seat, and Jake has a small box of stuff from his desk in his hands. It’s horribly reminiscent of that time two years ago, when he laid himself out for Amy to see. So much is different now, better and worse.

Back then, he’d at least had a time frame.

It could be six months this time. It could be six weeks, or even six days (assuming Figgis miraculously sees what a terrible asshole he’s been and decides to turn himself in). It could be six years, though Jake’s found his breathing quickens whenever he thinks of that possibility and he has to mutter lines from Die Hard to himself to stop from hyperventilating.

“I can redecorate a little for when you get back,” Amy says, with a smile that looks as painful as Jake’s feels.

“I hope that means updating to the 21st – or even the 20th – century,” Jake says, lightly. “But I still say you should move into my place.”

“You say wrong. Mine’s place is bigger – you know it makes more sense,” she says with half a sigh and it’s almost, almost, like it should be. Arguing about the apartment they’ll be living in together without the promise of separation and threat of death weighing them down.

Keep reading

Major Crimes-Hiatus Monday

The Decision-Sharon’s POV

“I understand you need to take this slow. But I’m not Jack. I love you and I won’t ever intentionally hurt you. So, if you’re not ready to make love with me, that’s fine, I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for you to be comfortable. But if the problem is that you just don’t want me, well, I guess I’d like to know.”

Having poured herself a glass of wine Sharon leaned back on her couch, pulled a throw pillow to her chest and reflected on the conversation she’d had with Andy regarding his invitation to spend the long weekend together at a little beach bungalow he wanted to rent.  

It was her hesitation that had caused his response, a response that had shocked her speechless. Yes, she’d wanted to move things slow, but not want him?

Oh, she wanted him all right. Sometimes, when he was kissing her so deep and so long she never wanted it to end, when his hand was cupping and kneading her breast, it was all she could do to keep from dragging him off to her bedroom or even straddling him right there on the couch. How many times had he left her throbbing with need?

No, that wasn’t fair. She was the one who left them both throbbing with need. She was the one who always shut things down, who kept his hand from sliding inside her panties or unhooking her bra, scared to make that final step in their relationship.

But not want him. Was that how she’d made Andy feel? Initially she’d been shocked, but now that she had time to wrap her mind around that statement, it wasn’t as crazy as it sounded. From the very beginning of their relationship she’d always been the one holding back. Still, she thought he’d understood, had never dreamed he might think her desire to move at more old fashioned pace meant she didn’t want him or that he might see it as a rejection. Guilt tore at her. How could she have been so blind? She thought he knew, knew that she had to fight her desire for him every bit as much as he fought his for her. But then, why would he?

Andy was so different from her. He was spontaneous and impulsive and he acted on his emotions. If he wanted to sleep with someone, he did it. He didn’t question his desire or worry about how sex would completely change the dynamic in their relationship. But she did. She was guarded and careful, always weighing pros and cons, evaluating every move she made in her life. It might seem like she was acting like a skittish virgin, but this was important. Their relationship was not a casual one and when they slept together it wasn’t going to be just sex. Maybe if they were younger, if they didn’t work together it would be different. She probably would have already gone to bed with him. But she was older now, older and wiser. Old enough to know there were consequences to allowing someone so completely into your heart. Old enough to have scars and fears. Making love with Andy was going to change things between them forever; there would be no going back. If things didn’t work out the hurt would be magnified, it could affect their work together. She had to be completely sure about them before taking this next step. So, was she sure? And if she wasn’t, why not?

Was it as Andy had said? Was she unwittingly forcing him to carry Jack’s baggage? As much as she’d like to dismiss the idea, it hadn’t come completely out of left field. Andy did share some scary similarities with her ex-husband, but they were certainly not the same man. Intellectually she knew that, but her scars ran pretty deep.

As a very young woman, a girl really, she had been taken in by Jack Raydor’s suave good looks and blustering charm. Well, Andy was even better looking than Jack and he was no slouch in the charm department. But that’s where the similarity ended. Charm settled differently on Andy.

Jack was bigger than life, always putting on a show. For so long she’d had a hard time telling when he was being sincere and when he was just playing her. He was a master manipulator, a great trait for his chosen profession, but not one for a husband. And he knew just what buttons to press to get her to do what he wanted. Or at least he had. Since the divorce she had no tolerance for his games. She’d come to truly see him for what he was. Jack Raydor was a taker. He’d taken everything he could from her and the only thing he’d ever given her were two beautiful children she loved more than life itself. Two children who had made every sacrifice, every moment of the pain she‘d gone through in her marriage worth it.

On the other hand, Andy’s sweet boyish charm was genuine, his emotions always honest. Andy Flynn wore his heart on his sleeve. When he was angry everyone knew it, when he was depressed everyone knew it, when he was happy everyone knew it. There was honesty in those emotions that especially touched Sharon because she was a woman who kept her own emotions held very close to the vest. And because she’d spent years trying to figure out what was real and what was an act with both her husband and her male colleagues. But when Andy brought her flowers or a cup of her favorite spiced tea it was because he simply wanted to do something nice for her, not because he was trying to get something from her or manipulate her emotions. Andy gave as much, if not more, than he took in their relationship.

Taking a sip of her wine she remembered how touched she’d been when during one of their particularly difficult cases Andy had offered to notify a mother that her children were dead because he knew how distressed she was about the whole thing. She hadn’t taken him up on it because it was her responsibility, but he had waited around for her to finish then took her out for dinner to decompress. And one night when she wasn’t feeling well he’d shown up at her door with his own homemade chicken soup. Sometimes he’d stepped over the line, like when he’d tried to protect her in the Julio situation but when she’d called him out on it he had immediately respected her work boundaries.

Having someone looking out for her was a new experience and it took some getting used to because unlike her former husband, Andy wasn’t completely self- involved. He’d taken the time to really get to know her. He paid attention to the things she liked and didn’t like. He knew she took her coffee with a splash of cream and no sweetener. He knew she preferred tea at night over coffee–and what her favorite brands were— and that she loved a nice foot rub after a full day chasing bad guys in her stilettos.

A couple years ago a homeless Jack had stayed with her for a while and it had shocked Rusty, though not her, when Jack had to admit that he didn’t know his own wife never ate more than one pancake for breakfast and that she didn‘t take sugar in her coffee. That was something Rusty had learned within weeks of living with her. So, when Andy had placed one pancake on her plate alongside an unsweetened cup of coffee while he was staying with them, Rusty’s eyes had met hers with surprise. Her youngest son had his own demons with men, but that one move on Andy’s part had done more to show Rusty how deeply he cared about her than any stilted conversation could have done. And it had been the start of Rusty finally coming around to accept Andy into their lives.

But sharing boyish good looks and charm was one thing, sharing an incurable disease was something else entirely. Both Jack and Andy were alcoholics. Jacks addiction to alcohol and later to gambling and his infidelity had destroyed her youthful dreams and idealism, destroyed their marriage, destroyed their family, destroyed their bank account and finally destroyed the love she’d had for him. Jack had never been there for her or their children, had never been someone she could lean on or rely on and her memories from before they’d separated were ugly and painful. She had been a single mother physically, emotionally and financially almost from the start. And she’d be lying if she said the fact that Andy shared that disease hadn’t been an underlying concern in the beginning. It had. She’d worked hard to get her life together after Jack, had enjoyed her independence and she didn’t want all that drama and chaos back in her life. It scared her to think about opening herself back up to all that hurt and disappointment.

But she’d known Andy a long time and they had become friends well before they’d begun dating. She knew his history with alcohol.  From the start he’d always been completely upfront and honest about his addiction and was proud, rightly so, of the nearly 20 years he‘d been sober. He’d answered every question she’d asked without sugarcoating anything. She respected that. The more honest he was about it, the more she trusted him. And the more she got to know him, the more she’d come to see that although they shared the same disease Jack and Andy were completely different people in how they’d dealt with it and where they were in their lives with it.

Unlike Jack, Andy had always been a high functioning alcoholic. Drinking had never cost him his job or his friends, though it had cost him his marriage. But also unlike Jack who still continued to drink, losing his family had been rock bottom for Andy. And when he‘d hit rock bottom he’d reached out for help. He‘d joined AA, started seeing a therapist and slowly began to put his life back together. He‘d been sober now for going on 20 years, had sponsored and helped many men through the same process, embraced a healthier lifestyle and had worked hard to repair his relationship with his daughter. There was a sweetness between Andy and Nicole, in the tender pride they had for each that never failed to touch her heart—especially because she knew just how hard earned it was.  For so many years she’d prayed that Jack would come around, that he’d kick the monkey off his back and realize all that he was missing by not being a part of his children’s lives. And even though she had completely divorced Jack from her life she would never stop wanting that for Emily and for Ricky.

So, that brought her to infidelity. Finding out Jack had cheated on her had cut her to her core. When she’d confronted him with his actions he had two responses. First was to blame her, lashing out at her in that scathing way he had for being a beautiful but cold, frigid bitch. Second was to blame the alcohol, which usually occurred the morning after, when he was crying and apologizing and begging her not to kick him out, insisting he loved her and that  it only happened because he was drunk. His infidelity and condemnation had torn away at her confidence as a woman, as a lover. It had taken Al-Anon and private counseling to help her see that it had been Jack’s problem all along, not hers. But even with the counseling and even though she was a strong, beautiful and confident woman, there was a small part of her that worried she might not be quite up to snuff in the bedroom, especially considering Andy seemed to have a lot of experience in that department.

Oh yes, her Andy had quite a history as a player. For the many years she’d known him he always seemed to have a different woman on his arm, usually a much younger woman. But he’d been single and lonely, sewing wild oats he hadn‘t sown when he was younger because he’d married his wife right out of college–like her and Jack.  In any case, none of those younger women had kept Andy’s attention for more than a date or two, while he had been pursuing her now for a couple of years–even putting up with her old fashioned courting.  

Andy was a good man. Not a perfect man, but a good man who had turned out to be surprisingly perfect for her. And he loved her. She had no doubts about that.

Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back remembering the moment she’d found his letter. He’d left it lying on her pillow the day he’d moved out after convalescing in her condo for weeks. He couldn’t have known that was Jack’s MO. Weak to his core, unable to face her, Jack always left her with a note. The last one he’d left she’d ripped in two without even reading. This time, with her heart pounding and tears stinging her eyes, she slowly opened Andy’s letter. He’d written it in the hospital, right before his surgery when he hadn’t been sure he would survive. It was the most beautiful, heartfelt letter she had ever received. In it, he spoke of his deep love for her; of the beauty he saw in her inside and out and of how much she’d changed him, helped him grow as person and how he looked forward to each and every moment he spent with her.

Warmth spread through her at the memory

She’d spent so many years building barriers around her heart, barriers that would keep anyone from hurting her the way Jack had. Yet somehow, Andy Flynn, of all people, had charmed his way right past almost all of them. There was only one left. Once he’d breached that final wall she’d be laid completely bare, completely vulnerable. So, she had a choice. She could continue to protect herself, continue to live her life in half-measure. Or, she could take the risk, give of herself completely and totally, open herself to the chance of finding a love like she’d never known before.

Picking up her phone she hit the call sign next to Andy’s name. This was too important to text.

“Hey sweetheart,” Andy answered.

A grin curved on her lips at the endearment. That was another great thing about Andy, he always made her smile. “Hi Andy. So, I’ve been thinking about your invitation to spend the weekend with you at the beach.”

“And?”  

She could tell he was holding his breath. “And the answer is yes. I’d love to go away with you for the holiday weekend.”

TBC next week with Andy’s POV